#if people just stopped falling over every five minutes

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

me, who consistently trips and falls over nothing, watching people fall into the water when attacked in shark movies: omg, learn to balance, you stupid bitch.

[pepperyduck]

“roomates” with satoru gojo

 this is part five of my kinktober event!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nsfw, roomate au, fingering, gojo has a nasty mouth, pwp!, virgin reader, overstim. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i love the idea of actor and roomate gojo so much,,, may talk about it later. uploading early again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

having the satoru gojo as your roommate is quite the experience.

it was odd—

you had known satoru in college, always somehow getting stuck in the same overflow housing on campus. you had gotten to know each other well, being forced to live with the other off and on. after he had gotten his degree in drama—and you got your degree in a successful STEM major—he proposed moving in together. you needed a place off campus, and he needed someone to room with, because rent was too high for him to afford on his own as a budding actor.

things were fine for a while, daily routines consisted of seeing one another regularly. but then satoru had his first big gig. he disappeared for months, needed for a last minute replacement. he told you about the role; a younger version of a strong—no, the strongest—sorcerer. apparently, he got to play his part in a dramatic friendship breakup, which you figured perfectly suited the way satoru acted normally.

his fame quickly rose, with the series being released only a few months later. after that, satoru never really came around all that often; you saw him maybe twice a month, if you got lucky. but even after that, satoru stayed in the apartment. you didn’t mind, honestly, he kept up with his side of the rent plus some.

but the really odd part?

your social media feed.

every social wouldn’t shut up about him—“upcoming star, satoru gojo makes an impact in new tv series,” “he’s so hot, i’d let him do whatever he wanted,” “I NEED HIM,”

and yeah, maybe curiosity got the best of you when you searched up the fanfiction—but hey, people seemed like they would kill to be in your position. the creative minds of those online made you see your goofy, struggling artist of a roommate in a different light. the way they wrote about his chest, and how smooth and toned it is, or his sparkly blue eyes and how they could make clothes fall of with just a look. recently, satoru had shared in an interview his fingers are 6 inches, and boy did people go feral over that.

they focused on every part. his soft fingertips, and how lengthy his fingers actually are the more you look at them. the subtle veins that ran over the back of his hand and up his arm. his middle and ring finger, how nicely they slide in and out, hitting that spot, coaxing you toward—

“whatcha readin’?”

the abrupt question shocks you out of your trance, making you yelp and practically throw your phone across the room. it lands face down beside your vanity, earning a loud thud when it hits the floor. your heart speeds up as you turn to face your roommate, internal temperature rapidly rising.

“jesus, satoru! what are you doing home?” you ask, praying that he wouldn’t take it upon himself to grab your phone for you.

“it’s my apartment, too, y’know,” he retorts, throwing his hands on his hips dramatically. “i’m gonna be here for a few days, if you don’t mind.” every word off his tongue is laced in sarcasm. it’s annoying.

and just as you try to reply, gojo swoops to the other side of the room to grab your phone, intently staring at the screen before you can even say, “stop!” you want to run away because you just know he’s reading pure filth about himself that you looked up. but you find yourself unable to move whatsoever, only able to watch in horror as your roommate reads fanfiction about himself. immediately, a sly grin overcomes satoru’s expression, and his eyes flicker from the phone to you over his sunglasses.

“this is pretty detailed stuff,” satoru teases. you’re able to tell he is in fact reading whatever you had pulled up on your phone, because he’s taking his sweet time scrolling and reading through all the divine things said about his hands.

“stop, satoru,” you whine, pathetically reaching for your phone. gojo holds it out of your reach, of course, and even though you almost came to grab your phone that was almost touching the ceiling, you can’t quite reach it. “please just go away,” you sigh, giving up and flopping back down on your mattress. you can only look on, still mortified, as satoru continues scrolling.

after a few heavy minutes and some more comments on your choice of fiction to read, he throws your phone back on the bed next to you, placing his hands on his hips once more.

“how long were you gonna keep that from me?”

“never really planned on telling you, satoru. leave me alone.” you reply, grabbing your phone so it’s out of gojo’s reach.

“you could’ve just asked—,”

“go away—huh?” you furrow your brows and look at the taller man, who’s sassily posed next to your bed, “don’t fuck with me like that.”

“i’m not.” he assures you.

satoru wasn’t joking. in fact, he had never been more serious in his life. he’d always thought you were pretty – more like drop dead, breathtakingly beautiful – but never mustered up the courage to talk to you about it. you were his friend, his roommate. he didn’t want to scare you off. but all chances of him not scaring you off were thrown out the window because he knew you wanted him now.

so, yes, he did what he did with every other girl—encouraging a hot make-out session after you got over the embarrassment of what was on your phone. you hadn’t had a chance to think about all those stories you read online, because it was all happening to you in real time.

with your lips in a permanent lock, satoru takes his time rubbing his hands all over your body, grabbing your waist, flipping up the skirt you had worn in the previous hours to run errands—

“wait,” you labored out, breathing heavy as you pushed your roommate’s shoulders away from you, “i’ve never—i haven’t…” your words are tripping over themselves into silence as you try to explain to your – gorgeous, famous, actor – roommate that you’re a virgin.

queue satoru’s head almost exploding. he swears then and there that his nose should’ve started to bleed, and his face turned an awful shade of red at the news. it was unfathomable in his mind that you, his smoking-hot roommate, was a virgin. he swore he saw you come home with your ex-boyfriend plenty of times…but maybe you were saving yourself, or something.

“stop looking at me like that. you were a virgin too.” you scoff at his ogling, crossing your arms over your chest. you’re still trapped against your headboard, the sheer size of satoru making you stay in one place. your legs are draped over his thighs, not quite straddling but close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off of your clothed pussy.

“do you want me to finger you?”

the crude question rolls off his tongue with ease, and you smack his shoulder with the palm of your hand in return. but again, he’s being serious. it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s being serious, he wants to finger you and it’s written all over his face.

after a few moments and shocked blinks, you nod your head.

satoru’s nosebleed actually happens whenever he gets you in position; you’re laid back with your legs on top of his, knees pressing into his waist. he just stares in utter disbelief at how cute and sexy you look, flustered all because of him. he runs the pad of his thumb over the mound in your panties, relishing in how soft, warm and damp you are. he can’t take his eyes away from how his thumb presses into the flesh, pushing down just to watch how his thumb gets swallowed by it.

“satoru—your nose is bleeding,” you gruffly state, snapping the white-haired man back to reality. one hand stays pressed to you while he lifts the other one to wipe under his nose with the back of his wrist.

low and behold, a few droplets of blood smear on the back of his wrist—but he’s too entranced by you to care. he looks back in your eyes, wiping his face with his shirt grossly.

“i’m okay—can i take them off?” satoru asks, almost politely if he wasn’t bleeding from the nose at how horny he is. his fingers hook into the waistband, eagerly awaiting your nervous little nod that you give him. he rips the thin fabric off your legs, taking it upon himself to lift you up and move your legs so he can toss your panties to the side of the room.

your immediate response is to snap your thighs together, but satoru quickly stops you and holds your legs open, forcing you to show your most intimate area to him. he drools over how pretty it looks, folds spread open and glistening, a perfect display of anatomy. he’s in love with the view alone. a prominent tent pokes in his sweatpants, but he ignores the feeling to focus on the task at hand.

“stop staring,” you meekly speak up, eyes looking anywhere else but at your celebrity roommate.

satoru’s bright irises look up at you before asking, “can i?” with the looks of a child begging for a piece of candy. after another quick, nervous nod, satoru swipes his thumb over your hole, then all the way up to over your clit. the sensation makes you wriggle and gasp, it’s odd being touched by someone else—but it feels good, even better than alone. natural lubrication practically drips off your pussy, so prettily, and satoru continues dragging his thumb up and down, paying close attention to how you whimper or move around when he gets to the bundle of nerves poking out.

you feel particularly needy at his ministrations, they’re so slow and it leaves you aching for more when he moves to less sensitive parts of your cunt. every time your eyes flash to gojo, he’s completely locked on what’s between your plush thighs, making you all the more embarrassed. embarrassment is thrown away, though, when his middle and ring fingers close together and creep up to slowly rub your clit.

your body jolts and satoru silently giggles, god, you’re so sensitive for him, he might go insane. he finds it simply endearing how well you react to him. each small circle he draws over your bud makes your thighs twitch and hole clench, and from his view, he can see it all perfectly. satoru’s eyes look up at you for once, just to see your head thrown back on the pillow and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to silence yourself.

“don’t be quiet, babe,” he says, and your eyes snap open to be brought back to reality.

“wh—uuht?” you drawl, mind hazy and foggy from just the little bit of pleasure he was providing. but as your mouth is open, he speeds his fingers up, forcing you to practically yell out, “satoru—wait!”

“i wanna hear you,” gojo taunts, his voice light and happy, not at all giving the impression he was playing with your cunt.

he does not wait, or slow down, he only continues to quicken the pace of which his fingers circle your clit. he feels accomplished when you finally begin to let out little moans and suck in air through your teeth, knowing the feeling of his finger pads was becoming all too much. this was the type of thing he lived for—making cute, inexperienced girls (you) lose their mind from pleasure.

it’s the type of pleasure that you weren’t able to achieve yourself; it made the bottoms of your feet tingle, and your legs move on their own—and the familiar feeling of an orgasm was quickly building up. the knot in your lower abdomen grows tighter and more intense, making you whine and thrash below your roommate.

satoru’s other hand comes down to prod his index finger at your tight hole, an unfamiliar feeling to you—especially as it’s being done by someone else. he pushes his finger in, causing another yelp to come from the back of your throat—but it doesn’t hurt. gently fucking you with just the tip of his finger, satoru’s hand focused on your clit speeds up more.

“mm—satoru, think i’m close,” your words are rushed as you warn him, but his movements don’t falter in the slightest.

“yeah? gonna cum on my fingers?” he teases, “gonna cream all my hand?”—and if you weren’t already so close, you would’ve kicked him out at the taunting. instead, you throw your arms over your face and try your best to hold back the feeling—wanting it to last as long as possible. he slowly pushes his finger in more and more, gradually coming to fuck you with one thin, long finger. the first bit he’s fully inside, it’s uncomfortable, but the pressure fades the more he plays with you. the bubble of your orgasm grows and grows until you’re about to topple over the edge.

“i’m gonna cum,” the words come out your mouth in a long, sultry string— satoru’s never heard anyone sound so good while telling him that.

“yeah, that’s it—come on, baby,” satoru encourages you, his voice having dropped multiple octaves to sound a million times more sexy — far from the satoru you’d come to know. his words force the orgasm to crash over you, your body continually jolting and stuttering—beginning to fight satoru because he doesn’t stop.

“i—i finished—stop, satoru—ohmygod—,” you stutter out, and satoru presses his elbows against your thigh, rendering you immobile.

“you’re so sensitive, princess,” satoru teases again, and you catch his eyes in a downright primal stare,

“gonna make you cum on my fingers again, baby.”

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

[itneverendshere]

all you've got to do is want something and then let yourself have it - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

this is a combination of a few requests: "hella see jj instantly jumping into uncle jay mode when autumn comes (...)  + "she's just so small against rafe and it's halloween where jj and monica and milo come stop by, and she's just so srunchy in her halloween onesie" + "the thought of baby cameron's first holiday being halloween! + thinking of jj having the most random nicknames for autumn that even rafes like what did u just call my daughter (...).

it was halloween—rafe’s first as a dad—and his baby girl, autumn, was just about a month old. his chest swelled with pride every time he looked at her—her little hands, those big blue eyes that still seemed so new to the world.

he'd never understood how people could fall in love so quickly with something so small. but now, looking down at her cute face, he couldn’t help but be consumed by it.

tonight wasn’t just another halloween—it was autumn's first.

rafe was determined to make it special. he'd even set up a few decorations in the living room, hoping to at least start the tradition early. not that she could enjoy it yet, but someday she would.

he heard the familiar chime of a text, swiping open his phone, he grinned at the picture you’d sent to the group chat. there was his baby girl, strapped in her car seat, snug as a bug, with her tiny fists curled up against the pumpkin onesie she was drowning in.

found her a decent costume, guess who’s about to come home! read your message.

he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he replied, i bet she’s ready to see her daddy.

another message popped up from jj, his voice coming through as if he were already in full-on uncle jay mode. he hadn’t even seen the baby for more than a couple minutes, but he was all about claiming his spot in the family.

aw, my sweet little chipmunk must be so excited to see me!

“chipmunk?” rafe mumbled to himself, brows pulling together as he shook his head. that idiot had a nickname for autumn every week since she was born, and every week, they seemed to get more random.

he could picture it now—jj walking in and immediately stealing the kid from his arms, calling her some out-of-nowhere name.

just as he pocketed his phone, he heard the front door swing open.

there you were, his pretty wife with that tired-but-radiant look in your eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, and there was his little girl, her chubby cheeks smushed against the car seat strap, already half-asleep.

“hey, troublemaker,” he whispered to his daughter as he scooped her up, her onesie crinkling as she wiggled and blinked up at him.

rafe had never felt so big as he did when holding her; her whole body fit in his arms like she was meant to be there. the doorbell interrupted their little moment, and rafe smiled to himself.

right on time.

he opened the door to see jj, monica, and milo—the familiar, chaotic crew.

jj was already leaning in for autumn, hands outstretched like she was his to claim. he rushed over, grinning like a kid who’d just won the jackpot. “ohhh, chipmunk’s home!”

“alright, alright, hold on,” rafe grumbled, stepping back. he shook his head, giving jj a warning glance. “dude, she’s barely awake. can you let her at least stay asleep for five minutes?”

“eh, five minutes is all she needs,” jj smirked, taking her from rafe’s arms with ease. “monica always says she’s got my personality—just sleeps through everything.”

monica rolled her eyes. “i never said that. don’t put words in my mouth.”

“come on, rafey, princess fussy butt just needs her uncle.” he shot rafe a wink, then immediately started babbling nonsense to the baby, who blinked at him with that open-mouth stare, like she was trying to understand why everyone thought this dude was so funny.

"what did you just call my daughter?" rafe raised a brow. “princess fussy butt? really, dude?”

maybank just laughed. “better than ‘chipmunk'.”

milo, meanwhile, was tugging at your sleeve, showing you the skeleton costume he’d been wearing all day, rattling off about the latest candy haul he was plotting.

monica glanced over, shaking her head. “if you start with that nickname, she’s going to think it’s her real name by the time she’s two.”

“good,” jj smirked. “she’ll be ready to take on the world by then.”

rafe chuckled, glancing back at his baby, her scrunchy little self bundled in her onesie, eyes already half-shut.

“look at her,” he nodded towards jj, while you rested your head against his bicep.

“it’s her first holiday,” you murmured.

“yeah, and she’s got maniac jj, aunt monica, and the skeleton over there to keep it interesting,” he joked, watching milo comparing candy bars with jj in what looked like a serious negotiation.

he was still cradling autumn, making faces at her and talking to her in a voice that was a little too high-pitched for anyone but a baby. rafe watched from the couch now, his arms wrapped around you as you sat beside him, both of you listening to the holiday mess around you.

“hey, i swear, if she calls him ‘uncle jay’ before she can even say ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ i’m gonna fucking' lose it,” rafe muttered under his breath to you, nudging your side.

you chuckled, lifting your gaze to meet his. “as long as she doesn’t call him ‘princess fussy butt,’ i think we’re good.”

first holidays were a big deal, but it was more than that.

this halloween was his first as a dad, and it felt like his whole life had changed in the best possible way. you two were building memories now, the kind that would last for years, traditions that he could carry with him and pass down.

milo, now done with his fifth round of candy negotiations with jj, walked over to you two, shaking his head in frustration as he planted himself right beside the couch.

“seriously, you gotta get him to shut up,” he complained, eyeing the blonde as he bounced autumn in his arms, making strange sounds in an attempt to get her to smile, and failing miserably.

rafe snickered, his arm still around you as he pulled you in closer. “what did i tell you, kid? maybank's gotta be himself. we can’t tame him.”

milo raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, trying to change the subject. “so, can we continue the candy haul now, or…?”

you grinned, happy to let him off the hook. “you’ve been thinking about candy for the last hour, haven’t you?”

milo nodded vigorously. “well, yeah, but only because jay’s been ignoring me. i’m on a mission. i need your professional opinion on my stash.”

you shot a glance at rafe, who was trying to hide his amusement. “looks like milo’s ready to be your candy mentor,” you teased.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, man. i might’ve been planning to steal some of his stash later.” he winked at milo, who, despite being ten, was wise enough to know when they were messing around.

“i need your help to make sure i got the best stuff this year. it’s a whole strategic thing, okay?” he leaned in close, as if he were about to reveal some secret mission. “the candy’s gotta be in prime condition.”

you raised an eyebrow. “so, you’ve got it all laid out?”

“oh, you bet,” milo said, reaching for the plastic pumpkin bucket beside him. he held it up with a dramatic flourish, as if he were presenting treasure. “operation candy haul is a success.”

rafe nodded, “what do you need from us?”

milo went into full-on candy expert mode. “okay, here’s the rundown. first, we’ve got your classics—snickers, m&ms, twix. but then there’s the premium section—reese’s, kit-kats, and my personal favorite, the milky ways.” he paused, looking at you seriously. “you have got to help me sort this. we need an unbiased opinion.”

you tried not to chuckle at his intensity. “you’re taking this a little seriously for someone who’s only ten.”

“well, i’m not ten anymore,” he said matter-of-factly. “i’m, like, ten and a half now. that’s practically a teenager.”

“i’ll give you that,” rafe said with a grin, as you smothered a laugh. “so what’s next on your list, teenager milo?”

“for the final test, you’ve gotta rank the ones that have the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio. i’ll leave that to you.” milo said, clearly trusting rafe’s opinion on these serious matters.

“you’ve got it,” rafe replied, pretending to think deeply. “the most chocolate-to-nougat ratio… now that’s a crucial step. can’t mess with the classics, kid.”

“exactly!” milo nodded, looking up at you. “we need to do a double-check of his candy haul. make sure the ratios are balanced.”

you pretended to ponder it, peeking at the candy bucket with exaggerated seriousness. “okay, you’ve convinced me. i’m in.”

you turned to rafe, who was already pulling a few pieces of candy from the pile, ready to play along. jj, still holding autumn, caught wind of what was happening and walked over with a dramatic sigh.

“what’s going on here? i hear talk of candy, and i need in.”

“too late,” milo said, grinning at him like he’d won a major victory. “i’m running this operation now.”

jj, not one to be outdone, threw a playful scowl at him. “when did you start talking back?”

as you and rafe dove into the candy sorting, a tiny whimper broke the festive ambience. everyone paused, glancing over to where jj was still cradling autumn and her face had gone from sleepy to fussy in seconds, her lips wobbling as her eyes squeezed shut.

“oh no, no, no...” jj muttered, bouncing her a little too enthusiastically, trying to avoid the inevitable meltdown. “come on, chipmunk, we’re just getting started here—don’t bail on me now.”

her hands clenched, and then came the wail—a high-pitched, all-out baby cry that instantly turned heads, her tiny face was scrunched, cheeks red, and her lungs proving just how powerful they were for someone so small.

“oh, jj,” you sighed, moving to take her, but rafe was already up, a smile spreading across his face as he reached for her.

“alright, alright, time’s up,” rafe said, easing her from jj’s arms. he held her close, gently rocking her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her tiny back. “hey, sweet girl,” he murmured softly, his voice dropping into that warm, gentle tone reserved just for her. “shh, it’s okay.”

as if by magic, her cries began to ease, her little body relaxing against rafe as she blinked up at him, still sniffling but calming with each second. she reached a tiny hand up, clutching onto his sweater.

jj put his hands on his hips, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “see that? kid won’t cry for anyone else. i think i’m losing my charm.”

rafe smirked, not looking up from his daughter, “told you, maybank. you gotta have the touch.”

you leaned into him as he sat back down, resting your chin on his shoulder as you watched her settle, her wide eyes blinking up at you both, taking in the world from the safe haven of her dad’s arms.

the blonde grinned, putting a hand on his heart in mock sadness. “well, fine then. guess she’s got her favorites.”

monica elbowed him, rolling her eyes, “they made her, you idiot.”

“ew.” he gave you and rafe a teasing side-eye, earning a good-natured smack from your sister.

autumn, oblivious to all the drama, had already snuggled back into her dad’s chest, letting out a sleepy sigh. rafe’s face softened as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back.

halloween had never felt more complete, and as you looked at your husband holding your daughter, you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

[mywritersmind]

I hope your requests are open. I had this idea of Lando dating either a singer or dancer. Mostly inspired how he said in a video that he would like to be a singer for 24h. Basically Lando surprises the reader on tour on a location of your choosing. The fans are freaking out about him being there, because they haven’t made it official to their fans and after the show they make it public. Maybe by a post where he is backstage with her being fluffy or something. It’s purely an idea so if you don’t like it then feel free to ignore it.

ROCKSTAR BOYFRIEND - LN4

listen up : kissing! cuteness! some smau! thanks for request!! i love lando x singer for some reason and even tho this is short, it’s adorbs!

word count : 1098

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I squeal as I jump into my boyfriend's arms, he spins me around while my head is buried in his neck, “I missed you!” Once my feet are back on the ground, I look at him. Taking every bit of him in, the face I have memorized. I look into my favorite eyes in the world, and smile.

“I missed you too.” He tugs at my waist a bit and kisses me softly. “I’m excited for tonight.”

“Great to see you too, Y/n.” Max fewtrells tone makes me laugh instantly. He’s staring at us like we’ve commuted some crime.

“Hi Max. I’m happy you could come!” I lean into my boyfriend, noticing the camera around his neck.

He nods, “I’m worried how much you like Lan but, you’re good so.” I laugh as he gets distracted by my manager walking by with food.

Because he’s gone, I drag Lando to my dressing room where he immediately falls onto the couch, smiling widely. “Look at you, all famous and talented.”

“Right!” I tease, “You have no idea what it’s like!” I walk closer and Lando’s hands slide up the back of my legs, staring up at me.

He stops them right before the hem of my skirt. “You look good. Not fair that I have to share you with the thousands of people out there.” He refers to my current packed venue just as the opener starts another song.

He tugs me a bit closer so I move down slowly until I'm straddling him, his hands now on my ass as he smirks at me. Lando has this look that he does, like everytime he sees me he just has to be as close as possible to me.

I rest my hands on his neck and kiss him. He mumbles, “I really missed you.” He tugs me closer and kisses me harder.

I laugh into him, “I do have to go out eventually so don’t get too excited…” He groans when I say it and moves his lips to my neck, “Lando…”

“Don’t all rockstars do this?” He eyes me as I laugh, his lips meeting mine again as there’s a knock at the door.

Lando and I end up backstage with my crew while my guitarist strums on his guitar and my manager Ally goes over tonight as if I haven’t done it a million times.

I’m sitting on Lando’s lap, a bit more PG this time, with his hand on my hip as I listen to Ally talk.

She’s pacing before she turns and sigh at us, “You two are adorable.” It catches me off guard a bit because she’s always been the one saying we shouldn’t be public because of our careers.

It makes me happy that she supports us, even if she does think he’s bad press.

She’s pulled away as I get a five minute stage call. “You’re going to be amazing and i’ll be front row!” Lando grins, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

I laugh, “Lan, you’re in a box.” I’ve sat him and Max in VIP for my friends and family with Gracie Abrams and Finneas so that should be interesting.

“I’m seriously so proud of you.” His smile is so contagious, “You’re so talented and amazing and beautiful and perfect.” I want to cry at his words. But there’s no time because my stage manager hands me my microphone and points at his wrist.

I kiss him one last time before he leaves to find Max and go to their seats. Before I can step closer to the stage though, I get stopped by Ally.

Her face is stern, “I need to talk to you after the show, about Lando.”

I frown, immediately, scared of what she has to say. But her face goes soft, “I think you’re right, you should go public. You’re sickeningly in love and if that’s what you want…” I wrap my arms around her so tightly that she has to pry me off.

“I love you!” I scream so loud that even the crowd can hear me.

“Yeah yeah, say it with a raise.” she finally cracks a smile and squeezes my arm, “Go kill it out there.”

⋆༺

I’m sweating by the time the show is over. I can still hear the crowd screaming when I walk off the stage, the same grin I started with, still plastered on my face.

I scream when I see Lando. I could see him watching me the whole performance and I’ve never been so happy.

“Hey, you did insane!” Max is first to talk as Lando hugs me again.

I let out a breathy laugh as Lando kisses my cheek, “Thank you, Max!”

“Lando is so lucky to have someone so cool because it really evens out his weirdness.” Lando eyes Max who pulls up his hands in defense and wanders away.

Lando kisses me again, “You did… I can’t even explain it! You fit so well on stage and I was singing every lyric!”

I raise a brow, “You know every lyric?”

He nods enthusiastically, “Me and everyone in my garage! I play nothing else before a race.” I shake my head, running my hands through his curls, “But you seem extra happy… is it because i’m here?”

I roll my eyes even though he’s right, “I have some news.”

His jaw drops when I tell him we’re going public. He doesn’t even consult his PR people before posting the pictures.

⋆༺

LANDONORRIS

liked by yourusername and 823,644 others…

landonorris SHES MY GIRLFRIEND SUCKERSSSS @//yourusername ily🙂‍↕️🫶🏻

username235 : OMFGOMFGOMFG THIS IS NOT A DRILL HE JUST HARDLAUNCHED

↳ username00 : IM CRYING SHE DESERVES THE WORLD

username44 : HOLY FUCKING SHIT YES

gracieabrams : Break her and i’ll kill you.

↳ landonorris : If I fuck this up, please do.

username719 : I used to pray for times like these. HOW IS THIS REAL!?😭💗

landofan44 : I’m so single😆

y/nfanusername : WOAHHHHHH ITS REAL!?

username12 : As an F1 fan, and a y/n fan, IM SO OBSESSED ILL GO TO WAR FOR THEM

carlossainz : No more lando norizz?

↳ landonorris : LOSER ALERT I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

↳ yourusername : keep that up and i’ll dump you.

↳ landonorris : yes ma’am🫡

oscarpiastri : Finally you can talk to someone else about her. Y/n, you’re great and all but I know far to much about you.

↳ landonorris : shhh your ears are blessed

yourusername : my idiot 💗🫶🏻

↳ landonorris : my love 😍🧡

↳ carlosainz : WHIPPED

↳ alexalbon : WHIPPED

↳ maxverstappen : WHIPPED

↳ georgerussell : am I the only one who thinks this is cute?

↳ lewishamilton : George.

↳ georgerusell : WHIPPED

↳ francocolapinto : WHIPPED🫵

[aduh0308]

Since Yeonjun's mixtape advance came out I can't stop thinking about drugaddict Jun who sells his body to reader to be able to pay his rent and drugs... yaeh

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁2:57am [choi yeonjun]

summary: yeonjun has to find some way to pay for what he needs. genre: smut, pwp, fwb, non-idol au warnings: drug addict yeonjun (drug isn’t specified), sex worker yeonjun, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, yeonjun refers to himself as ‘jjun’, calls reader ‘baby’ and ‘doll’, handjob, blowjob, face fucking, protected sex, cunnilingus, references that this isn’t a one time thing, reader’s lowkey falling for him, yeonjun’s a douche, roommate beomgyu, your conversation with beomgyu goes an interesting direction… word count: 3.6k 🎧 — illicit affairs (taylor swift) + boyfriend (dove cameron) + f**k it I love you (lana del rey) + my strange addiction (billie eilish) + a&w (lana del rey) a/n: happy spooky season! here to give a little taste before my kinktober starts~

It’s late when you get the text. 

It’s customary, of course— Yeonjun never bothers you during the day, only in the most unholy hours of the night. He swears it’s to avoid too much attention, but you secretly believe he just likes the power it gives him to know you’ll come running the minute your phone lights up.

You do come running, though. You can’t help it. The opportunity is always too good to pass up, walking to Yeonjun’s apartment in the pitch-black of night, hood pulled up and over your head to try and remain unnoticed. The time of day is only a minor inconvenience compared to what the next 30 minutes always holds in store for you. The price you pay is entirely worth it.

You throw on a random sweatshirt from the pile of dirty clothes in your room. Sneaking down and out the front door, you’re once again grateful that your roommate is a heavy sleeper. You can hear his soft snores as you pass by the door to his room, smiling to yourself.

The walk is only five minutes, and you take the stairs up to the second floor two at a time. It would be an understatement to say you know the way by heart now— you have it memorized, the amount of steps it takes to get from your front door to his (817).

Knocking twice, the door opens on its own. The latch wasn’t fully closed. This isn’t unusual, Yeonjun’s never been one to check things like that. You step inside, the familiar smell of his apartment welcoming you.

It’s a wreck, of course. Clothes and things everywhere, there’s an empty pizza box on the table that you can see grease marks on. People say rooms are a reflection of the person, and in Yeonjun’s case, that’s exactly right. He’s passed out on his couch, messily-cut red hair falling in his eyes, and you poke him once on the shoulder.

“Yeonjun,” you hiss. 

He blinks bleary eyes open and shifts to an upright position slowly, as if he’s too out of it to move. Honestly, he probably is. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, his shirt is stained, and he stumbles over the tin bucket of coins and paper money on the floor when he moves to greet you.

“Didn’t think you were coming, weren’t as fast as usual…” Yeonjun mumbles. His hand makes its way to rest on your shoulder as he props himself up.

You scoff. “I don’t live to exist at your every beck and call.”

“Sure seems like it,” he shrugs, and his shirt catches on his lithe frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Can we just get this over with?”

“Baby, what’s wrong with you? You come all up in here to fuck me like we both need and you’re telling me that you want to ‘get it over with’?” He bites the plush of his bottom lip, and you have to look away.

“Yeonjun, it’s 3 in the morning. I’m tired and I don’t want to be walking back to my apartment at four. Bad things happen when women walk home alone at night.” Your arms cross in front of your chest almost involuntarily. 

Yeonjun’s fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you closer until you’re pressed flush against him. “Just stay here tonight, I can sleep on the couch.”

“Beomgyu’ll be waiting for me.” It’s true, your roommate’s texted you at 6am wondering where you were too many times for your comfort.

“He’s not your boyfriend, is he?”

Your jaw falls slack and you scowl at him. “Of course not. You think I’d be here if I had a boyfriend?”

He shrugs. “You even being here in the first place shows that neither of us has any sort of morals. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Keep questioning my morals and I’ll walk back out that open front door of yours.” You have to bite back from insulting his morals, which the both of you know are out of the window.

“Please don’t, baby, I need this today.”

And so the both of you settle on his stained, torn up couch, you between his knees. This was how it worked— you suck him off, maybe he eats you out, then you fuck, you pay him, and you leave. It was routine after your escapades turned weekly the past few months.

It’s not like you need to fuck him on a weekly basis. You have plenty of other options. But something about Yeonjun was so real, so raw, and it kept you coming back every time.

That, and how perfectly he fits between your thighs.

He lets out an elated sigh when you unzip his jeans, tugging him from his boxers. For lack of better words, Yeonjun’s got a pretty dick, and no matter how many times you’ve seen it, it still gets you drooling.

Slightly longer than average, tip flushed the pink of his lips, you can’t resist pressing a kiss to the underside of his length. Yeonjun shivers above you at the gentle touch and you giggle, licking a long line from the base of his dick to the tip, where the precum beads up again immediately after you lick it away.

He rocks his head back the moment your tongue meets him, pretty neck on full display, god, how you wish you could mark it up. But that was one of the rules. There were only the two— no kissing, and no hickeys. Yeonjun liked to joke you’d have to pay extra for those two, but you knew that he struggled with the intimacy of it all.

It’s one thing to have a quick fuck, get some head, maybe give head, but it’s entirely another to actually kiss while doing it. Yeonjun’s slipped up only once, and you didn’t see each other for an entire month after. It was torture for the both of you.

So now you abide by the rules like it’s your lifestyle.

Hand in your hair while you suck him off, Yeonjun’s a sight to behold above you, eyes screwed shut and jaw hanging open. He’s in his element like this— you swear he’s never looked sexier, except maybe for when he’s the one giving you head, face between your thighs and eyes on yours, the way he comes up with the lower half of his face shiny with your slick… You’re pressing your thighs together at the memory.

You suck at the head of his cock once, squeezing the base of his dick, and the noise that falls from his lips is purely pornographic. “Fuck, baby, y-you’re so good at this…” he mumbles, hips fucking up towards your mouth.

You gag on him a little bit as he hits the back of your throat, but he only pins your face to his pelvis, nose flush to the warmth of his skin. “Doing so good, doll, so pretty, taking my cock like this…”

You feel him twitch in your mouth and brace yourself for the taste of him, familiar after all this time, but he pulls back out of your mouth with a hiss. 

“Don’t wanna cum in your mouth, don’t think I have more than one in me today…” he whispers, drawing you up until you’re sitting in his lap.

His dick presses right up against your clothed clit and you have to bite back a moan when he rocks his body against yours, face in your neck. “Let me fuck you? Please?”

You nod, and he helps you slide off your shorts. They hit the ground with a thud, followed by your panties, but he lets you keep your sweatshirt on.

This is typical, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Yeonjun shirtless, nor has he seen you. You have no idea when that started, but it’s stayed the same since, and honestly, you have no problem with it at all. You’d rather not be tits out in front of some weekly hookup.

Yeonjun pulls a condom from the pocket of his jeans, tearing it open and rolling it onto himself, and you both let out simultaneous sighs of relief when he’s all the way inside you. Your walls flutter in thrill, fitted perfectly. Yeonjun’s hips thrust up towards yours so harshly that you squeak, arms wrapped around his torso. He slows at your noise, looking up at you in his lap with a look of concern uncharacteristic for him.

“You okay?” His voice is soft, tender almost, and your cheeks go hot.

“Yeah, just fine, jus— hold up, for a second? Need to get used to you again…”

He’s always been almost too big for you, walls stretching to take him, but it’s all worth it when he somehow manages to hit all the corners of your insides at once.

Yeonjun nods, face falling to your neck again, where you can feel his ragged breath on your skin. When you finally give him permission to start up again, he’s slow, languid with his movements in a way that makes the tingles in your stomach run all up your back.

“H-have I ever thanked you? For this?” He mumbles, raising his head so his eyes meet yours.

You’re surprised to see tears wetting his lashes. “Yeonjun… you know I always would. Getting railed so you can pay your rent and whatever else you need—“ Here you look at him pointedly. “—is nothing. Hell, at this point I’d give you the same amount of money even if you didn’t fuck me.” Your eyes go wide. “That doesn’t mean stop fucking me, please, I really enjoy it.”

Yeonjun’s lips press together in an effort to hide his laughter at your outburst. “I would never.”

“Then fuck me harder, please? I can take it.”

“I know you can, doll, always taking me so good…” he coos, and the pace he starts is so brutal that you can hear the tops of his thighs slapping your ass with every upward movement.

You bury your face in his neck, fingers threading through the hair at the back of his neck, and Yeonjun loops his arm around your form, holding you tight to him. He can hear every one of your noises so perfectly in his ear like this, and every single one of them sets off something in him.

“Sound so pretty, baby, don’t hold back, wanna hear,” he tells you when you put a hand over your mouth.

You shake your head, embarrassed. “Don’t like it, sound stupid.”

“Never… not stupid at all, do you not know how pretty your sounds are?” He cups your cheek in a palm. “Gets me so worked up, could cum from your pretty moans alone.” Yeonjun’s voice drops half an octave. “That, combined with the way this pretty pussy takes me so good, s’ tight and warm, don’t think I can last that long at all…”

“Me neither, gon’ cum, fucking me so perfect…”

The fucked-out tone of your voice is music to his ears. “Yeah? Jjun fucking you so good? Bet you waited all week for me to text you, hm? Getting yourself off at night and wishing I’d call, weren’t you?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod, and Yeonjun grins “Fucking knew it, doll’s so needy, maybe I should call you up more often, three times a week at least, how’d you like that?”

“Would love it, fuck, Jjun, ‘m gon—fuck— gonna cum…” you grip his shoulders, arms wrapped around his back so tight that he can feel the swell of your tits through the thick fabric of your sweatshirt.

“Go ahead, baby, deserve it, pussy feels so good around me,” he purrs, and oh, the way he loves the way you shake against him when you finally cum around him, walls clamping down on him and coaxing him towards his own high.

He pulls out of you and tosses the used condom in the trash, lying back on the couch and running a hand through his hair. Sweat sticks his bangs to his forehead— the sight of him has you trying to tamp down the arousal threatening to crawl back up your limbs once more. 

Catching your breath, you sit up against the armrest of his couch. “What time is it?”

“3:42.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, standing to pull on your clothes. “I have to go.”

“No. Stay.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?” Not once, in four months of this has he asked you to stay afterwards. “Are you gonna charge me more?”

Yeonjun laughs. “No, course not. Speaking of—“ he holds out his hand, and you place a roll of money in it. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna use that to buy more of that shit, are you?”

He shrugs and winks at you. “Maybe I’ll put this towards my rent instead. I’m half a month behind.”

You roll your eyes and settle back on his couch. “I’ll stay, but I am not sleeping on this thing.”

“Baby, I already said I’ll sleep here. It’s fine.”

And that’s how you end up in Choi Yeonjun’s bed. The sheets smell like him, like fresh cut grass and the mint toothpaste he uses. It’s dark— there’s no light from outside the room, and the curtains on the window are entirely light blocking. 

“Yeonjun?”

The door cracks open a moment later. “Yes?”

“Will you sleep with me?”

He grins at you, and shuts the door behind him. Yeonjun slips beside you under the covers, pressed against the bare skin of your arms; you’ve taken your sweatshirt off, it was too hot. He’s changed into sweatpants and a fresh shirt. Well, fresh as in different from before, not necessarily clean.

“You scared?” He hums, resting his head on the pillow beside you. It’s a cute sight, his lips smushed in a pout, and you smother a laugh.

“A little. It’s too dark,” you admit, and he smiles gently at you.

“You could’ve just asked me to come in here in the first place.”

“Well, that’d be no fun, wouldn’t it?”

You end up with your head on his chest. Yeonjun’s taken his shirt off— for the first time you’ve ever seen, and you can’t even see, can only feel his warm skin beneath your cheek.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, breath ruffling your hair.

“Night,” you hum in response. You can hear every breath he takes, it lifts your head up just a little bit, but it’s not unwelcome at all.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, you wake in the same position. Head on Yeonjun’s bare chest while he sleeps, you stay still. The time on your phone lets you know it’s seven in the morning, as do the six texts from Beomgyu. Gently, as to not wake Yeonjun, you scoot to the side and type out a response letting him know you’re at a friend’s house.

Ha. Friend is funny. You’re not even sure if Yeonjun is your friend. More like a rando you fuck.

Yeonjun shifts in bed beside you, then blinks his eyes open. A slow, dazed smile makes its way over his features when he sees you. “Morning, baby.”

“Morning, Jjun,” you smile back, lying back beside him. “Sleep good?”

“Definitely.” You pretend not to notice his gaze dropping to your lips, but it stays there for a good 15 seconds before moving to your eyes again. “You?”

“Once you were here, yeah.” He smiles even wider at that. 

He gets up to make coffee, and you stay in bed— he promised he’d bring you a cup when he came back.

And he does, settling beside you again. You take a sip of coffee, unsure what to say. This is weird, being with him like this. You’ve never spent more than an hour together, and here you are, in his bed, drinking coffee side by side.

Yeonjun’s still got his shirt off, and you’re having a hell of a time trying not to look at him. Honey-gold skin with curves of muscle beneath, he catches you looking and smirks. “Eyes up here, baby.”

You look away, cheeks hot. “Wasn’t looking.”

He laughs, looking away. “Mhm…”

You’re sitting in comfortable silence when Yeonjun puts his coffee cup on his bedside table and sits to face you. You follow suit, and the two of you are sitting criss cross across from each other.

“Yes?” You say after a moment.

His eyes flick down to your lips for a split second, then back up to your eyes, and you lose it all. 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to say something but you’re pressing yourself against him, lips on his, and fuck, they felt better than last time. Plump lips meeting yours, Yeonjun’s kissing you back so hard you’re breathless. Your hands splay across his back, and your tongue meets his.

But he pulls back so fast it makes you jump. “What the fuck?” He says, eyebrows furrowed. “What happened to the rules?”

“Fuck the rules!” You exclaim, sitting up straight, swiping the drool off your chin. “I want to kiss you, you want to kiss me, what’s the harm?”

He’s sputtering, cheeks red. “The harm? Fuck, the only thing that’s supposed to happen here is that you pay me to fuck you. That’s it. That’s the harm.” He folds his arms across his chest. “You’re gonna have to pay me extra.”

You stand, grab your sweatshirt, and toss a twenty into the tin of money he moved into his room. “There you go.”

And you’re out his front door without another word.

You stumble into your apartment five minutes later, wiping underneath your eyes to try and hide the fact that you were crying. “Gyu, I’m home!” you call.

He steps out into the hallway, brown hair mussed in the back. “Finally!” Beomgyu catches sight of your red eyes and the way you’re slumped against the door. “Hey, pabo, you alright?”

You shake your head and he pulls you tight to his chest, arms wrapped around you. You take a deep breath in, getting a whiff of his scent, and the clean laundry smell is setting you off all over again.

“‘m sorry, got my tears all over you,” you laugh slightly, wiping your nose.

“It’s fine. What happened? Something with your friend?”

He looks so sincere that you could start crying again. You sit down at the table in your kitchen, put your head in your hands, and tell him everything.

It feels like a weight off your chest— finally, someone else knows what you’ve been keeping a secret for months. Surprisingly, Beomgyu keeps a straight face. You’d expected him to at least say something snarky when you explained how you’d been fucking once a week for the past two months.

“So let me get this straight—“ Beomgyu leans forward, chin in his hands with his elbows on his knees. “This rando fucks you so he can pay his rent?”

“And to pay for drugs.” You nod.

“Damn.” Beomgyu runs his hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair once more. “So why are you crying?”

“I kissed him.”

“Oh. Fuck. And that was one of the rules, right?”

You let out a noise of exasperation. “Don’t get me started on those fucking rules. They’re only there in the first place because he’s scared.”

“Of what?”

“How would I know? He doesn’t talk to me. Other than calling me doll and telling me my pussy’s pretty.” It sounds childish now, but when it came from Yeonjun’s mouth… It had you on your knees.

“Is it?” Your jaw drops, and Beomgyu back tracks, throwing his hands up. “Not the point, sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s not the point, stupid.” You scowl at him, and he apologizes again. “It’s fine. The answer’s yes, by the way.”

His ears go pink and he looks away, visually collecting himself before turning to you. “You shouldn’t see him again.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I will. I was spending like six hundred dollars a month for some dick.” Beomgyu starts to laugh and you shut him up with one look. “Don’t start. I know it’s stupid. I just thought, he’s hot and it wasn’t like I was spending that money on anything else. It’d be the same as buying clothes and jewelry in a month.”

“Yeah, sure. Except I don’t know anyone spending that much money on some necklaces.” Beomgyu’s eyes look everywhere but yours. “I don’t know why you’d even think about spending that much.”

“Like you wouldn’t to get in some hot girl’s pants.”

“I mean, sure, but it’s not like you don’t have free dick just down the hallway.”

His gaze is fully on you now, watching you carefully, and it takes you a moment to realize he means himself. “God, Beomgyu, you’re such a pervert.”

“What? You’re hot, I’m hot, I’ve got a dick— a pretty good one, if I do say so myself— why wouldn’t we fuck?”

Oh. So he’s not kidding. 

Your cheeks go hot. “I’ll think about it, okay? I don’t know if I’m desperate enough to bang my roommate yet.”

“‘Kay. Just let me know, alright? And if you’re worried about me not being a good fuck, you can always ask around. I’m sure you’ll hear good things.”

How does he manage to look so comfortable right now? One leg crossed over the other and leaned back in the chair like he’s not talking about putting his dick in your cunt.

“Leave it alone, Beomgyu. I already said I’ll think about it.”

And you do. For about four days straight, and when you knock on his door on a random Wednesday night, he smiles up at you with such a smug look on his face, he didn’t doubt you for a second.

[keerysfreckles]

lay all your love on me — LN4

pairing: lando norris x piastri!reader

summary: the aftermath of y/n's worst date she's ever been on, lando comes to pick her up.

warnings: one curse word, not proofread

a/n: dedicated to kayla bae 🤭🤭 comment if i should make a part 2!!!

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n can't remember the last time she went on a decent date. in the past year she's been on five dates, none of them doing any justice.

two of them were too busy staring at her chest from the low neckline of her dress. one wouldn't stop talking about the football game plastered on the tv behind her at the sports bar he dragged her to. one didn't even show up.

and now, the fifth date, he isn't taking anything she says seriously.

she tried explaining how she's able to travel a lot due to her brother being a formula one driver, and the bloke just laughed in her face. claiming "girls can't be that into racecars".

y/n's never wanted to punch somebody as hard as she wanted to punch the man in front of her.

he then started talking about his own career, which lead y/n to talk about hers. however, to the man across from her, having a degree in communications does nothing to improve y/n's future.

this man was suffocating. every word he uttered just made y/n's blood boil.

it got to the point where y/n simply left. she left the man there, at the restaurant, with the most dumbfounded look displayed over his features.

she couldn't stand to be there another five minutes, so she simply left. no apology, no goodbye.

the chilly monaco air did not help her sour mood, in which she didn't bring a jacket with her. the walk to her apartment wasn't far, maybe twenty minutes.

the more and more the girl thought about her date, and the previous ones, she couldn't help but feel sorry for herself. the past five times she's gotten dressed up, and was excited to learn about someone new, she just left disappointed every time.

y/n didn't even know why she wore the heels she has on. she's never worn them, so she's praying she doesn't get blisters the next morning.

groaning, she pauses to take off her black heels. her shoulders slightly relaxing as the pain from her feet falls into the pavement with every step.

now y/n wasn't sure if the rumbles she heard behind her was thunder, or just the roaring of engines passing in the streets.

she pushed the thought off for now, and went back to thinking about her failed dates. she didn't think it was her fault, but maybe she was just unlovable. there was a chance it wasn't the people she dated, and that she was the one with the problem.

the over consuming thoughts had now gotten best of the girl. before she knew it tears were welling up at her bottom lashes. she didn't care about her makeup anymore, choosing to wipe at the tears now mixing with her mascara.

seconds barely pass, and it was final that the rumbles y/n heard earlier was thunder. meaning rain would shortly follow after. she groaned again, wanting to do anything but walk home in the rain.

she could easily turn around and wait the storm out in the restaurant, but she didn't want to face the man she left at the table again.

she then decided to call her brother.

however her plan quickly backfired once she remembered oscar and lily went out tonight, somewhere over an hour of where y/n is now. so calling oscar was out of the question. the phone didn't even let out a full ring before she hung up.

to make matters worse, y/n felt big drops of rain hit her shoulders.

there weren't many other options y/n could give into tonight. her close friends were all in france for god knows what, oscar was busy, and y/n just wanted to go home.

call her pathetic, but y/n couldn't help but cry. her night has only gotten worse, and she couldn't do anything about it.

after mere minutes, her hair was soaked from the now heavy pouring rain, she had no doubt her makeup was fully ruined, and she was sulking underneath a flickering lamppost.

she let out a dry chuckle after scrolling through her contacts once again, now seeing the only person left to call. the only person who'd answer her tonight.

on the third ring, he picked up.

"y/n? is everything okay?"

y/n hasn't gotten asked that in a long time. so she simply let out a choked sob. she tried answering, but her voice failed her again.

"lando," she managed to get out, only to have her cries over power her words.

he was quick to ask her what happened to make her this upset. to which he only got small answers in between more cries and jagged breaths. he knew he had to do something.

"can you tell me where you are?" he asked, while slipping his shoes on before running out of his apartment towards the parking garage.

he was glad to finally get a normal answer out of y/n, as he pulled out of his parking space with a loud screech of his tires. his windshield wipers did almost nothing to help him see in the rain, only making him driver faster, wanting nothing more than to get y/n in the warm and dry comfort of his car.

he drove carefully down the street address she gave him.

then he saw it. his heart broke at the sight in front of him.

y/n sitting on a bench, with her head in her hands. heels discarded by her feet, and her wet hair sticking to her back and shoulders.

her head picked up at the headlights of lando's car, and the sound of his driver door opening.

"god, y/n are you okay?"

lando kneeled down in front of her, placing his warm hands over her knees.

all y/n could do was lean forward into lando, wrapping her arms around him for some form of comfort.

lando couldn't care less if his shirt was getting wet, he could easily put on a new one once he got home. all he cared about right now was the girl in his arms.

he helped her get to the passenger side of the door, before jogging back to the bench to grab her heels. as he threw them into the backseat his eyes moved to an extra jacket. he was internally thanking his past self for leaving this inside.

y/n shivered out a thank you, for the hoodie and at his action of turning the heat on.

the ride back was silent. a comfortable silence, mostly because lando didn't want to pressure the girl into talking about exactly what happened tonight.

after lando turned left, y/n spoke up, "wait, lando you made the wrong turn. my apartment's that way."

she pointed out the window, but lando simply shrugged it off.

"y/n you haven't had the best night," he starts by pointing out the obvious, "so you can crash at my flat tonight, okay? we can watch as many rom-coms as your little heart desires. i know how much you love those."

y/n chuckles at his ending sentence, but can't agree with him more.

as soon as lando pulls into the parking garage, he helps y/n up the stairs to his apartment door. he successfully opens the door with one hand, as y/n's shoes are hanging over his fingers in the other.

he watched as y/n crossed her arms over herself once he shut the front door.

"do you want a hug?" he held out his arms with a small smile adorning his lips.

y/n walks closer to him, her barefeet hitting the hardwood with each step before she rests her head on his shoulder.

one thing y/n loves about lando's hugs is how secure they feel. his arms always end up wrapped tightly around her, and she swears she feels her bad mood leave her body whenever she's in his embrace.

after a few moments, lando speaks up, "do you want to change? i bet i have some clothes that'll fit you."

y/n nods before ridding her face of any tears. she then follows lando to his room. she sits on the edge of his bed, watching carefully as he grabs a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"i'll be out in the living room. take your time," he speaks softly, kissing the top of her head before he leaves the room.

y/n finally lets out a sigh. a sigh filled with many different emotions. too many to count, so y/n distracts herself by changing into the much more comfortable clothes lando grabbed.

she tried running her fingers through her damp hair as she exited his room, but her hair became too tangled from the rain.

lando's small smile made it's way to his face once y/n came into the living room.

"you feeling any better?" he pats the spot beside him on the couch.

all y/n does is nod, but lando senses that something's still bothering her.

he brushes off the thought for now, as he and y/n search for a movie to watch.

after eight minutes of flicking through netflix, y/n breaks the silence.

"lan, do i seem unlovable to you?"

the question certainly caught the brit off gaurd. he took a moment to think about his response before answering, but no certain response would be the right one.

"woah, what makes you think that?"

y/n gets more quiet, becoming more self conscious of herself as she sits beside lando.

she shrugs before responding, "every date i've been on in the past year has gone wrong. i can't help but think if it's something i'm doing. that i'm the one with the problem, not all the guys i've seen."

lando's heart breaks at y/n's statement. how long has she been feeling this way about herself?

"you're not unlovable y/n. it's all those idiots that don't know what they're missing out on. you're one of the greatest people i know, and if any guy you date can't see that, he's not worth it."

lando wasn't sure where his small speech came from, but the look from y/n made his heart beat faster than it did before.

she looked at lando with nothing but adoration. a blush covered both of their cheeks now, and before y/n could really register anything her brain was processing she leaned over to quickly kiss lando.

yes, she was kissing her brother's best friend. yes, she was kissing lando after she had a horrible date.

was it a bad idea? probably. but y/n needed one thing to go right tonight. she could only pray this was the thing.

just as lando got used to the feeling of her lips against his, she pulled away.

she couldn't read the emotion on his face, making her start to ramble.

"i'm sorry. i'm so so sorry lan. i- i just needed one thing to go right tonight. and i thought maybe kissing you was the right thing to do. shit, i'm sorry. i can leave-"

y/n's sentence was cut off, now by lando pushing his lips against hers. his hand found it's way to the back of her neck, as hers balled up the material of his shirt to try and bring him closer to her.

their panted breaths mingled together as they were only centimeters away from each other. their eyes filled with adventure and lust, both wondering where this thing could lead to.

[theorphicangel]

a rare morning. miguel x reader

Stirring awake, your hands rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the new day that lies ahead of you. The coldness of the room makes you shuffle your feet against his calves, attempting to derive some warmth from his body.

He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling, light— no, heavy snores leaving his mouth. Miguel’s hands are loosely wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your neck. And with every exhale your skin tingles from his breath.

Selfishly, you desire to move. You want to stretch your limbs to escape from the past restraint of sleep. But you hesitate, desperately trying to think of a way to do so without disturbing your lover from his sleep. He’s been working till late recently and waking up at times that no human possibly should be waking up at.

But, this morning was a rare morning. A rare morning where he’s promised to stay in and spend some time with you.

And he can tell that you’ve been missing him lately. Your failed attempts to stay up and wait for him were obvious, he’d often find you asleep on the couch with a book opened on its spine adjacent.

Becoming restless with every second, you decide to get up for a glass of water. Now you knew that you would have to be stragtegic. One wrong move and you’ll wake up him up. You first problem was the hands that held your waist.

Carefully, you begin guide one hand off. His large hands severely contrasting your own. You freeze at the sound of a groan, then an inaudible murmur.

‘Is he awake?’ You think to yourself. Anxiously, you wait a few seconds until his breathing returns to normal and place his hand away from you.

Now you just had to remove the other one and you’d be ‘free’ to go, that is if you don’t wake him up. Your hand only seem to make it to his wrist before you’re stopped.

“Baby?”

shit.

Another groan leaves Miguel’s throat and simulatenously, his hand wraps around your waist again.

“M’just going for a glass of water.” You whisper.

“Stay.”

“M’ really thirsty, I’ll come back.”

He mumbles again and you can’t make out what he’s saying, his mouth slightly covered by his pillow.

“baby I can’t hear you.”

“I’ll go, you stay.” He mumbles.

“Mig’-“

“Just five more minutes.”

And with that, his hands are all over you again, caging you back with him. mission unaccomplished.

You settle back into his arms, accepting your fate. You guess you can wait a few more hours.

After a few minutes of silence, a muffled voice is heard by your shoulder.

“are you still thirsty, nena? Because I can go get you that glass—“

“no miggy, m’fine.” you smile. Perhaps if it was any other morning you’d still be restless but this?

You rarely got to experience this. his arms around you, his bare skin on yours, his naked soul entwined with your own. Upon meeting him for the first time you would have never thought that this is how you’d end up. Being one of the only people that he feels comfortable around. So much so, that he feels comfortable being vulnerable with you.

and you wouldn’t take it for granted. not anymore.

i love him your honor. :(

[kombuuuu]

NEEDD someone to write more about simp!miles and how he finally asks reader out. I love him w the trope friends to lovers i definitely feel like he would try to ask his s/o out and fail to so many times😭😭

Jitters.

Simp!Miles Morales x Gn!Reader

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

THIS WAS LIKE FIVE MINUTES ADTER MY CALL FOR POST LMFAOOO OKAY BBY I GOT U ‼️

2 + 1 Trope? Got that DOWN baby.

—

The first time Miles had ever met you, it had been the most bland, unimportant, nothing-burger of a day he’d ever been privy to living.

The weight of his classmates gazes settled uncomfortably, but familiarly, onto his back. The whispers they shared with one another having him strain to hear over the beating of his own finicky heart.

A boring, low effort slide show casted on a lazily erased white board was barely keeping him from falling asleep.

And yet his foot wouldn’t stop tapping, the nerves alighting something within him like sparks near a gas leak. The way his heart was beating wasn’t just from the whispers flown around he knows weren’t about him. (He couldn’t help it, what if they are?)

There was something else, like an anticipation boiling his blood vessels. Spidey-sense through the roof and heart rate accelerating.

He stanced his feet, twisting them slowly to shoot out of his seat when ready, as if a crazed, murderous version of him was going to burst the the door at any moments notice.

The handle twisted, his vision honed in, ears sharp-tuned to every movement the muse terry figure made.

And as the door swung open, the breath he was holding left him. Exasperation and amazement at the person in front of him, the harmless, beauty of a person.

“Ah. Mx.[Last Name], Pleasure of you to join us,” His Teacher snarked, adding a hasty ‘finally’ to the end under his breath.

Miles shot the man a dirty look before focusing back onto you, as seemingly everyone had.

You caught people’s attention from the get-go, aura leaking something trusting, something good. Like out of everyone in the world he could talk to, he knows you’d listen in earnest.

You made eye contact with him, your eyes glistening against the light of the projector, he almost sighed.

You looked away again, addressing your Teacher. “Sorry Sir, I didn’t exactly know where to go.” You politely laughed it off, disrespect to authority wasn’t exactly something you wanted on your track record the moment you got to this place.

“It’s—“ He dragged a hand down his face whilst you shuffled in your spot. “It’s fine. Just go sit next to uh.-“

Miles say up a little straighter, a silent competition with the other people in his class crawling for your attention.

“Miles. Morales raise your hand.”

He felt almost smug as he did Small huffs of disappointment coming from his undeserving peers. You smiled at him, waltzing over with a confidence he could only dream, and sat in the chair beside him. He watched you unpack your stuff as the professor drawled on, and when you caught his watchful eye, you waved.

He blushed. The whispers definitely weren’t about him now.

—

One.

You were putting you books in your locker when a small tap was placed upon your shoulder.

Catching your attention, you stuffed the remaining books inside carelessly and turned to face the subject of curiosity.

The boy you had sat next to your first date stood shuffling foot to foot before you. Nervously scratching his neck and kicking his Jordans.

“Hey I- Uhh.” He coughed, scared his voice would crack in front of you, he almost cringed at the thought. “I’m Miles-“

“Morales. I remember you.” You smiled sweetly up at him, you did remember him. It was no lie, he was kind of hard to forget. “Oh, you do?”

“I mean, you were the only one in that class willing to sit next to a stranger. And you were pretty nice about it too.”

“Uhuh, yeah, that’s me.” Only one willing? With a person like you showing up? The entire room was glaring at him.

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

You closed your locker and turned back to him.

“Yeah, no problem. It was no big deal, really.” He rushed out, your presence alone making him nervous.

“Anyways I-,” he cleared his throat again. “I was wondering if you’d y’know..” He looked at you through his thick eyelashes, god he was pretty. “I’d…?”

“Wannahangoutsometime.”

You stumped for a moment, trying to figure out what he’d just said before laughing lightly. He swears he saw heaven the second you’d smiled at him.

“Yeah we can hang out, right now actually!”

Grabbing his arm and walking with him as you chatted. His breathing stuttered, unprepared for your misunderstanding of his intentions, but okay with the outcome. Having your arm linked with his, pulling him wherever you wanted to go like some puppy. Giggling and whispering to him something he couldn’t pay attention to over the sweetened sound of your voice. He was pretty damn okay with it.

—

Two.

It had been around three months since you had met Miles. And although you hated the thought, you only had your mean professor to thank. So, kudos to him.

You were into the boy, no doubt. His charming personality additional to the kind of dorky thing he had going on, you loved it. A month after the initial meeting, he had finally got the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It was probably the most adorable thing you’d ever seen watching him stumble upon his words.

Now you sat with him on the rooftop of his apartment building.

A picnic blanket had been laid for the both of you by Miles himself, and his mother had made snacks.

You had just met his mother, Rio. The sweetest woman you’d probably ever met. And by the way Miles and Rio interacted, you could only think how good of a man he was.

You can always tell the intentions of a man, by his treatment of his mother.

“Your ma is really nice.”

“You think? She’s kinda protective of me.” He turned to look at you through his peripheral, leaving enough space it wasn’t obvious. “I think it’s cute, she cares for you, y’know?” You shifted yourself to face him, the Sundown light glittering against his smooth skin. He looked beautiful here, you thought. He looks beautiful everywhere.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good, ‘s always good to know you’re loved.”

Miles’ heart stuttered in his chest, sucking in a quick breath and turning himself to face you.

“Mhmm.”

You looked up at him, leaning on your hand, drifting closer to him subconsciously.

He let himself drift as well, your voices quieting without either knowledge.

“Miles?” Your soft words questioned him, doey eyes gazing up at him, heart on your sleeve.

“I wanna—“ His sentence was cut off, a blaring siren sounding in his head, nerves.

“I think I might..—“

He huffed, mad at himself for being unable to speak.

“Do you want- Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning back, a genuine glee in your eye.

“Do I want holy shit?-“ You giggled, he felt his heart flutter along with his disappointment (once more).

“-Not really, no.” You kept giggling, the serenity of your moment with Miles and his fumbling an apparent treat to you. He buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. Only furthering your hysteria, “Leave me alone.” He dragged the ‘lone’ dramatically before flopping back against the blankets. Huffing and staring up at you from his spot. The smile on your face was a quick fix for his soured mood, not that it was that sour in the first place. But knowing a moment of undeniable spark like that, had you smiling and giggling after, even if it led to nothing. Had his hopes and his pulse rate rising.

—

Miles was head over heels for you. He was smitten, a total and complete dog for your affection. Sitting at home sulking when you weren’t there to hang out with him. Making you add his steam solely so he can play games with you.

A puppy of a man, god he wasn’t even ashamed.

“Dude, you just need’a ask ‘em out already.” Hobie served no help to his ever growing dilemma with you, but did serve to humiliate his seemingly non-existed romantic experience. “I’m *trying, man. They just keeps misunderstanding.” “Are they taking the hint?” “What hint?” He looked up from his slouched spot in his gaming chair. Spinning the thing in circles idly. “You haven’t given ‘em a hint?” Hobie blanched at Miles, like it was some obvious mistake.

“What. Hint.”

“Oh my god, Miles.”

—

He still didn’t get it, Hobie had explained his way of ‘hinting’ to someone he liked them. Through slight touches and subtle looks, a wink here and there. But not a cringey wink (Miles would argue they’re all cringey.), the ones where you feel like you’re part of a secret. This would be helpful to him, sure. If had hadn’t done everything with you already, except the winking, that is.

He did touch you, he did catch your eye when everyone else around looked away. He kissed your forehead and held your hand. You seemed borderline allergic to walking without you arm linked through his. All of there’s things that Hobie said were couple things, he’d already nailed. So why couldn’t you just.. date each other?

“I don’t know, it’s not like that.”

“But it is,” Hobie pointed to the centre of Mile’s’ forehead and flicked. “You guys are quite literally already dating.” “No, not really?”

“Oh my god you’re clueless.”

Hobie sighed, jumping off the bed and stretching his arms above his head. Miles grumbling a pouted ‘am not..’, Hobie settled him a look, taking a deep breath and continuing.

“Miles, mate, You both go to each other for comfort. You cry to each other, you find solace in one another. You touch and cuddle and sleep in the same bed.” He took another breath, seemingly needing a lot, “The only things you’re missing, are kissing each other for real. And calling each other your partners.”

“And if they end up saying no?”

“Then i’ll smash my guitar.”

Miles paused, considering the severity.

“Okay, okay i’ll do it.”

“Thank fuck.”—

—

+one

Miles had spent the better of an entire afternoon hyping himself up (and subsequently psyching himself out), before he finally had managed to make it your door and knock.

He was beyond nervous, the jitters in his bones crawling under his skin like spiders. Worse than normal, he observed.

A shuffle from inside your apartment had brought him back down to Earth. Everything suddenly becoming very real to him as you opened the door grumpily.

“Oh i’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Oh, Miles!” Your pout had almost instantly been lifted, a smile grazing your face sleepily, it was so late, he shouldn’t have come.

“I’m so sorry- It’s late. I should—“

“No!”

“No?”

It was your turn to get bashful, twisting the hem of your shirt in your hands nervously. “Stay Miles.”

He softened, posture relaxing at your tone.

“Don’t want you running away again.”

That caught his attention. “Wha-“ “I was wondering when you’d finally show up outta’ the blue.” You glanced down to his lips then back. The amber in his eyes haunting your dreams, in such a welcomed way.

Miles couldn’t take it, with the way you spoke, so soft and fragile. To the things you were saying, confident and headstrong. He couldn’t fucking take it.

His hands shot up to your face, caressing the curves of your cheeks and slope of your jaw. The trails of hair behind your ears his fingers just grazed. He brought himself down to your height once more, standing on your porch step. Like some sappy rom-com.

“Tell me to stop.” He was near breathless. You didn’t, you didn’t say a thing. You simply carded your deft hands over thick curls, and pulled him down to meet you. His eyes fluttered closed and lips met yours. He felt like crying.

Like after the months of pining for you. For trying and trying for your love, for your affection, that everything in his life had only ever led to this one point. And everything farther was his happy ending. The spiders under his skin stopped crawling, settling into the crooks of his bones and finding home. He wasn’t shaking. He was still.

And as you pulled away to breathe, ogling up at him with nothing but love to give he smiled and laughed just like you did.

ITS FUCKING 3 AM I GENUINELY HAVENT SLEPT THIS IS SO CUTE

(he is ⬇️)

[ashasdiary]

Five Margaritas, Five Senses

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You enjoy a night out with your girlfriends. You all get enamoured with a dark haired bartender. Gojo gets jealous so naturally, he has to remind you whose you are. 

CW: drinking, alcohol, established relationship, jealous Gojo, possessive Gojo, smut — unprotected sex, drunk sex, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia if you squint WC: 5.9k A/N: loosely based off of my own shenanigans. still steaming from last night as I write this 😹 ENJOY <3

You were drunk. 

There was no denying it.

You’d all but downed your first three margaritas, had inhaled a strawberry daiquiri, were halfway through your fourth margarita and had every intention of getting some shots after. 

You found your body moving on its own accord to the groove of the music that was playing in the bar, hands in the air, hips swaying without a care in the world as you danced. 

Your two friends, Shoko and Utahime cheered as you danced, getting up from the booth to join you. 

Your third friend, Suki, walked into the room: a cute little secluded spot with pink fur on the walls, a disco ball shining in the corner, and plush seating, drinks in hand. 

“Guys! There was a bartender that just started his shift, he was soooo handsome!” She tries to set down the two cocktails carefully on the table but a little spills from the sides. “Go and get more drinks and you’ll see him!” 

Suki’s insistence for you all to see this handsome bartender doesn’t so much faze you because there are handsome bartenders everywhere. Utahime’s interest however is piqued slightly so she dances away from the group with a laugh to Suki, “Let me get another cocktail and see some eye candy.”

Suki draws her away for couple of minutes as you and Shoko keep dancing and giggling together. Utahime comes back to the room with her drink, squealing in excitement to you and Shoko, “You have to see him! He was so freaking pretty!” 

Utahime is quite the character so her reaction was not out of the ordinary. Shoko twirls you under your joined arms and grins, “I’ll go get some shots for us.”

Shoko sashays away to the bar, leaving you to finish your fourth margarita. You set down the empty glass and you giggle, twirling around, the music taking control of your body. 

“Is Gojo picking you up later?” Suki asks as she slings her arms around your neck, swaying with you.

“Mhm…he said he’d come at 11 so we can get an early night,” you smile at the mention of your boyfriend, the blush on your cheeks deepening a little. 

“You lovebirds…make me sick,” Suki laughs and she pinches your cheek. 

Shoko comes back to the room, wide eyed, a tray of shots in hand as she calls your name, “They weren’t lying. That bartender is fucking beautiful.”

“My goodness, you three, relax! There’s beautiful people everywhere!” You spin on your heel and stumble a little, Utahime catching you. 

“I do want another drink though. So I will be back shortly,” you nod, earning a couple of snickers from them. 

You stroll over to the bar and lean over it, waiting to be served. There was a man with his hair gathered up in a little man bun, crouched down tending to the fridge on the other side, so his back was to you. He stands and straightens up and turns towards you and stops when he sees you. “Hi,” he greets you, voice velvet smooth and brown eyes twinkling, “what can I get for you?”

You just blink at him for a moment. The alcohol already in your system was slowing things down considerably but you were in awe of just how beautiful this man was. How the strand of hair that he had loose was framing his face perfectly. You don’t usually get shy, either, but words were lost on you for a second. “Hi…” you manage to smile, “can I get a vodka lemonade please?” 

“Playin’ it safe, huh,” he chuckles, rolling up his sleeves and in the low light of the bar your eyes fall to the dark ink adorned on his skin. It was so intricate and detailed, nothing like you’d ever seen before. You watch him move around the bar and start to make your drink in the mixer bottle so effortlessly, and you suddenly come to yourself and realise that you’d been holding your breath this entire time. 

“Can’t go wrong with a vodka lemonade,” you breathe out, and his gaze locks with yours, a smirk on his pretty lips. That’s when you realise you’d taken your sweet time in responding and you blush as you fumble to occupy your hands with something, settling on the chain of your belt. 

“I saw your friend over there get some shots. Have you ever tried a baby guinness?” He decorates your vodka lemonade with a small sprig of mint on top and gently pushes it toward you, leaning on the bar and coming closer to you. 

“I can’t say that I have,” you answer, and you clear your throat, your hand absentmindedly coming to play with the straw in your drink. 

“I’ll make you one to try. On me,” he gives you a grin and holds your gaze longer than he should have before he looks away to find the bottles of Irish cream and coffee liqueur.

Placing a shot glass in front of you, he is mesmerising as he makes the drink carefully so that the Irish cream doesn’t sink into the liqueur. He gestures to the smaller glass and gives you a playful smile. 

“Have a try. I bet you’ll like it.” 

His voice…oh, his voice. It’s so smooth and so deep that it rumbles through his chest, the tone of it something sublime. It’s a voice that you could fall asleep to from how soothing it was. 

You take the shot glass between your fingers and hold it up, “Salud,” and he lets out a chuckle right before you knock it back. You were expecting a burn, because it’s a shot after all, but were surprisingly greeted with the soft touch of what genuinely tasted like chocolate.

“Oh my god, that was divine,” you tell him excitedly, “can I get 4 more?”

He grins at you, “I told you you’d enjoy it. But sure. We do table service. You go enjoy your vodka lemonade and I’ll bring 4 more to your table in a minute.”

“Thank you…” you gaze at him, unable to look away, “sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“I’m Geto,” he gives you a friendly smile and holds your gaze and it continues on until you get bashful and look down at your hands. 

“Thank you, Geto. I’ll see you in a minute,” you grab your vodka lemonade and shuffle away from the bar as fast as your legs would allow, not looking back because you know in your drunken state you’re extra playful and extra daring. 

The three girls were talking and giggling and sipping on their drinks when you came in and they all turn to you as you sit down among them. “I hate to admit that you were all right,” you take a quick sip of your drink, “he was unbelievable. None of you even saw his tattoos! And I really don’t know why, but I asked for his name, too.”

“He has tattoos—?”

“His name—?!”

“What w—?”

“And,” you interrupt the chiming of your friends, “he gave me this delicious chocolate tasting shot, for free.”

That admissions sends them into a frenzy, Utahime grabbing at your thigh, Suki falling back onto the sofa, and Shoko spluttering on her drink. Granted, their reactions were exaggerated what with the state of drunkenness you were all in. 

“And when I walk in all that I wanna hear…is you say daddy’s home…home for me,” you all hear the familiar voice of Gojo singing as he strolls into the pink room and he snorts at just how pink it is.

“Look who it is,” Shoko giggles and you smile widely when you see him. 

He walks on over, giving Suki, Utahime, and Shoko brief hugs in greeting before he reaches you, bright blue eyes twinkling. “Hi, baby. I missed ya.”

“Hi, my love, I missed you as well,” you give him a drunk smile and make grabby hands to him and he chuckles, plopping himself next to you and pulls your legs over his lap while leaning in to give you a kiss. You drape your arms around his neck and settle against him comfortably. 

“Havin’ fun, hm?” He asks. 

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Suki answers him before you can, and all three girls laugh. 

You sip on your drink until you hear the air being sucked from the straw, signalling its emptiness. Gojo gently takes the empty glass from you and places it down on the table. 

“I’m glad that you’ve been enjoying yourselves. I’ve gotta get all of you home soon, don’t I?” He says and Shoko and Utahime groan. 

“Absolutely not. I got us more shots!” You tell him and he raises a brow, gaze falling onto the empty shot glasses on the table. “Those were…Shoko, were they yours? Yeah, she got some jolly rancher shots before but the ones I got are so delicious, literally like chocol—“

“Knock knock,” you all hear that captivatingly deep voice from the doorway of the room and you all look up to see Geto, tray of shots in hand. Everyone falls quiet as he waltzes in, placing the baby guinness shots down and collecting the empty glasses. From the girls’ silence, you know that they’re all just drinking him in, admiring his tattoos and his full frame. “You have your beautiful friend here to thank for these,” he nods towards you and you blink at him, cheeks blushing crimson red when he winks at you and throws you a smile. “Enjoy your night,” his gazes trails over all five of you in the room before he leaves. 

The girls stay silent as they watch the dark haired man exit the room and turn to look at you, then at Gojo.

“Uh oh,” Suki breaks the silence when she notes that Gojo isn’t smiling anymore. “Gojo, you good?”

He’s quiet for a moment, completely still as he replays what just happened in front of him and then looks to you. “I’m actually shocked at the audacity of that man to flirt with her seeing the way that she’s draped over me like this,” he says and your fingers play with the soft hair at the back of his head. 

“It happens, dude, relax,” Shoko says and she gets up and hands around the shots, skipping Gojo as he is the dedicated carer for the evening. 

“Geto’s very nice, he wasn’t flirting,” you find yourself saying matter of factly through your drunken state, and this makes Gojo’s brows furrow together. 

“You’re on a first name basis already?” He lets out a dry laugh. 

“He just gave me his name before, that’s all,” you shrug and the girls all hold up their shot glasses, and you follow suit. 

“To being smart and sexy!” Shoko says and you all repeat it before downing the shots. 

“That was quite a pleasant shot actually, everyone say thank you,” Utahime comments and stands up to dance again. Shoko and Suki follow suit, all three enjoying the rhythm as they dance. 

“My smart and sexy girlfriend has been quite the minx tonight, then,” Gojo’s lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he caresses your jaw and kisses your temple. 

“I had…” you start giggling uncontrollably, head falling back as you hold onto his neck, “I had like five margaritas. Have you heard that song?” You ask Gojo but Suki is quick to respond. 

“Give me one margarita, imma open my legs!” She sings and drops into a squat, opening her legs. 

“Give me two margaritas, imma give you some head,” Shoko sings.

“Give me three margaritas, imma put it in my puss—“ you add and laugh as Gojo pushes his finger over your lips to quieten you and the girls all giggle, holding onto each other so they don’t fall over. 

“Give me four margaritas, imma put it in my tush!” Utahime is quick to add, and all four of you sing the next line in unison as Gojo sits and watches, shaking his head as he tries not to laugh.

“GIVE ME FIVE MARGARITAS, IMMA HAVE SOME FUN!” All of you burst out in uncontrollable laughter, tears in your eyes. 

“Alright, gang, I think you have all had plenty of fun tonight and you should all get home and recharge your batteries,” Gojo announces and is met with a chorus of ‘aw’s. “C’mon now. Get your things, ladies, we don’t want to leave anything behind.”

You stay wrapped around him for a moment, breathing him in, kissing his neck, playing with his hands, “I was really enjoying myself tonight so I’m sad we’re going home but I also love when you get all…authoritative,” you tell him and he smirks down at you. 

“I know you do,” he tells you quietly and you bite your lip as you gaze at each other. He steals a quick kiss before you get up and grab your coat and bag from the corner, overwhelmed all of a sudden by the urge to pee. 

“Oh, god, I need to pee. I’ll be right back,” you walk — not in a straight line — out of the room and towards the restrooms which thankfully weren’t far. It’s a unisex bathroom with the toilets in individual spaces. You lock the door once you get in and shove down your tights and underwear, holding up your skirt as you feel the relief of an empty bladder. You sigh and then smile to yourself, reading the scribbles on the walls. There’s always some clarity gained upon reading the writing on the walls of a bar toilet while drunk. 

Once you’re finished, you fix your clothes and go to head out but come out of the toilet and crash into a large, firm chest. “Oh!” 

The large, firm chest of the dark haired man. Geto. 

“Careful, there, shortcake,” that silky smooth voice….his gentle hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady…the soft twinkle of his brown eyes. Jesus, he’s mesmerising. He lets go of your arms as you blink at him, again. Shortcake? 

“Sorry about that,” you say quickly. 

“You’re fine,” he reassures you. “I’ll see you later.“

He turns and disappears around the corner. See you later? You go and wash your hands and try to think. Why would he see you later? Was he flirting? 

You dry your hands with the paper towel and check yourself in the mirror before you exit, making your way back to the pink room, but it was empty. The heck? Where had they all gone? You look around for them, but can’t find them in your vicinity. You walk around the bar slowly, scanning through the crowd of people, unsuccessfully. You huff to yourself. They can’t have just left you, especially not Gojo. 

You stand in the middle of the bar, trying to find a familiar face, until you do, but it’s not the familiar face you were hoping for. “Geto!” You call out to him as he’s walking back to the bar. 

“Hi again, shortcake,” he smiles softly, “saw you sooner than I thought. You okay?”

You swallow upon hearing the use of that nickname he’d chosen for you. It made sense. He was tall. You were not. “I…yeah, I’m okay. Did you see where my friends went, by any chance?”

“Yeah. Come with me,” he nods his head to the side and holds out his hand for you, which you don’t think too much about taking because in a crowd of people, it’s easy to get lost. 

When your hand slips into his, it’s warm and gentle, and he envelopes your hand as he leads you to the bar. You feel a flush on your cheeks at the touch. 

On your approach to the bar, you see your boyfriend’s white hair peeking out in the crowd. They were at the bar, paying off the tab. Of course. Geto leads you to the group and taps Gojo on the shoulder to inform him of your arrival. 

“Make sure this beautiful lady doesn’t get lost again,” Geto tells him, and Gojo eyes how he’s holding your hand. 

“Thanks,” Gojo replies curtly, staring daggers at the other man. Geto releases your hand and heads back behind the bar. The girls are all wide eyed trying to stifle their giggles. 

“Baby, we told you we were going to come pay off the tab. How’d you get lost?” Gojo asks you, arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him. 

“I didn’t hear you guys say that,” you whine and rest your forehead against his chest. He kisses the crown of your head. 

“It’s okay. Tab’s paid now. Let’s go home,” he squeezes you gently as he gathers your friends. 

“Good night, Geto!” Suki waves enthusiastically at the bartender and blows him a kiss. 

“Suki!” Shoko hisses, pulling Suki’s arm down. 

The sound of Geto’s laugh reaches your ears, “Good night, ladies. Hope you had a great evening.”

You find yourself smiling over at Geto before Gojo moves to block your view with a deadpan look, “Home time.”

“We’re just saying bye,” Utahime sighs dreamily. 

It takes some effort but finally, all 5 of you are buckled in Gojo’s fancy car, with you curled up in the front. He begins the drive to Suki’s place which is closest, and when he drops her off, he goes up with her to make sure she gets in safely. 

You love how thoughtful he is, taking his time to ensure their wellbeing with each stop. Utahime was next, and then Shoko, and then…there were two. 

You laze in the seat, fumbling with the buttons and making the seat lie back, trying to get your mind off of the urge to pee. 

“I need to pee again,” you tell him and he reaches over and caresses your knee. 

“We’re almost home, sweetheart,” he says, putting his foot down on the accelerator a little more. 

“Hm…my pretty man,” you gaze at him, enjoying the view of his side profile, soft white hair framing it. He glances over with an enthused expression and before he can reply, you reach over to cup his jaw. “So pretty it hurts.”

“No need to flatter me, sweetness. Not when you’re as beautiful as you are. I can’t wait to see what our kids will look like,” he says the last sentence more to himself, but you hear it, and it makes your heart skip a beat as he turns his head to kiss your palm. And for some reason, that same sentence makes your pussy awaken from its slumber. 

You stay quiet, letting him take your hand in his, fingers interlacing with yours. Your mind races for a minute, thinking of everything Gojo has done this evening. For a moment, the acknowledgement of each action — picking you up, protecting you and your friends, taking care of you and your friends, paying the tab, driving your friends home and making sure they get in safely — leads to gratitude of having such a thoughtful, considerate, perfect man being yours. But that gratitude quickly transforms and only adds to your growing arousal. You almost forgot how horny you get when you’re drunk. 

It’s not long before he’s pulling into the garage and parking the car, cutting the engine. The single act of him turning the steering wheel with his palm makes your pussy purr and you try to ignore the wetness that’s accumulating at your core. He gets out and walks around, opening the door and scooping you up into his arms. You let out a little squeal in happiness as he carries you all the way and inside your shared abode, a nice penthouse with the most breathtaking views of Tokyo. 

Once inside, he toes off his shoes, gently pulling off yours and letting them fall with small thuds on the floor by the door. He carries you still and sets you down in the bathroom, where you keep your arms around his neck and smoothly pull him into a kiss. 

When you break apart, he makes sure that you’re steady since alcohol is still surging through your bloodstream. “Pee. Wash up. And I’ll get you some water and your pajamas.”

He washes his hands quickly and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You try to go about your night routine as best as your drunk and horny brain would allow you to. 

Gojo had every intention of taking care of you this evening, he really, truly did. He wanted to tend to you, cuddle you, love on you, and make sure you were hangover free tomorrow morning. But there was something inside him that he simply could not ignore. The fiery flames of jealousy were ignited within him. Hand in hand with his possessiveness, oh, it was a lethal combination on his hands. 

He did as he promised, getting you a glass of water, some painkillers, and your pajamas, setting them neatly on the night stand and the bed, respectively. He slips out of his outside clothes as he waits for you, pulling on a cotton t-shirt and foregoing any pants. 

You emerge from the bathroom, having haphazardly pulled your hair up and put it in place with a claw clip, and stripped down to your underwear. “My tummy hurts a little.”

“You didn’t eat anything yet, sweetheart. You want me to get you some food? I can make you a sandwich,” he offers, moving around the bed to get you the water and painkillers, handing it to you. You take them and drink the water to wash them down, still a little dazed, but the more you look at him, the more you want to pounce on him. 

“M’not hungry,” you tell him and he circles his arm around your waist loosely. 

“Maybe not now, but you will be in…” he turns and looks at the clock on the wall, and turns back to you, “half an hour.”

“That’s specific,” you laugh a little. Your arms slip up around his neck, finding their place there. “Are you in my stomach keeping watch of how much food is in there?”

“I can be in your guts if you want me to be,” he smirks, and you snort at this. “You should know I’m setting myself a time limit,” he nods in all seriousness. 

“For?” Your inquiry lit the fuse in him. 

You dared to ask?

His eyes flash with mischief as he gazes at you, his hold on you tightening, pulling your hips flush against his. 

“To remind you whose you are,” his voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, lips ghosting by yours.

Your brain takes a moment to register. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Of course he’d gotten jealous of that bartender. Of course he had. You should have sooner realised this but in your hazy mind, it had slipped. 

“Satoru…” you press yourself against him, showing that you’re eager for him, wanting him, needing him. He knows, of course, he knows how you can get disgustingly horny when you’re drunk, so he’d perfectly orchestrated the last hour with that in mind. 

“My beautiful girl…” he brings a hand up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek as he gazes into your eyes so intensely you feel like he’s seeing the depths of your soul. “You are. You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. 

“Satoru…I know I’m yours,” you whine softly, giving into your carnal desires, “please…I need you right now.”

He fucking loves when he has you begging for him like this. 

“Aw, my sweet girl needs me, huh,” he hums, bringing his lips to yours. You eagerly press your tongue against the seam of his lips and he instantly parts them to tangle his tongue with yours in a filthy kiss. 

Taste.

He debates on edging you, making you beg for it, but he decides that the best method right now is to consume all of your senses to the point of overwhelm. He wants you to cry. 

He walks you the half a metre over to the bed and breaks the kiss to pick you up and place you by the pillows. 

He kneels in front of you and pulls off his shirt in one movement, something which makes you stupidly excited. 

Sharing another dirty kiss, your lips are locked and he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and pull it away. At the same time, you push off your underwear and toss it to the side. 

“Show me how wet you are,” he requests, warm hand rubbing the outside of your knee as he sits back a little. You part your legs for him and bring your hand to your centre, drawing your fingers up and down through your folds, spreading the wetness around easily. God, he loved your pretty pussy. He loved her even more when she was dripping wet like she was now. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing. He has to free himself from the confines so he quickly and deftly gets his boxers off, kicking them to the side. 

“She’s cryin’ for me,” he purrs, smirking a little, “Who got you this wet, baby?” He brings his fingers to your folds and teases them alongside your own. You shudder when he circles your sensitive clit. 

Touch. 

“Y-you, Satoru, only you.” 

“That’s right, sweetness. Tell me again,” he hums. 

“Only you can get me this wet,” you sigh, and you go to circle your entrance with your middle fingers and dip them inside but he stops you. 

“Ah ah…I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. C’mere.” He slips a strong arm under your waist and lifts you easily, and your legs automatically lock around his hips as he switches the position, lying back against the pillows and perching you on top of him.

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean down to kiss him again, “Mmm…I love this view.”

“Mine’s better,” he quips, leaning his head up to kiss all over one of your breasts, teasing your nipple with his tongue. 

His hands roam up over your back and you find your hips moving on their own accord, grinding your folds over his hard length. Your wetness coats him and he groans against you, one hand gripping your hip and the other swiftly reaching down to guide his cock into you.  

Your head falls back as you feel the tip push past your entrance. He’s slipping inside you easily from how wet you are, but your walls weren’t ready to be stretched out so suddenly. He keeps pushing in, pressing his hips up, until he’s bottomed out inside you completely. You bite your lip and let out a soft whine from just how full you feel with him inside you. “S—ah…Toru…I…” you can’t formulate any coherent words in this moment, so you stop trying. You can’t think, because all that’s in your head right now is the thought of him stuffing you full of his cock. 

Satoru doesn’t like to rush, so he allows you a moment to adjust to him, because the last thing he wants is for you to be hurt. He gently guides your hips to rock back and forth and you start to do it on your own, gasping when you feel the fullness again. 

“Who’s got you full of his cock, baby? Huh?” He asks, a smugness in his tone. 

“Y-you,” you muster, rolling your hips in gradually bigger circles. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises you, letting you take the reins, his hands resting on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh. Your walls adjust to him relatively quickly and you lean forward, bouncing your hips on him faster, pussy gripping his cock tighter each time you sink down onto him. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, cupping your face to bring your lips to his. 

“Mmm…Toru, I’m close…” you moan out against him, making him groan to your lips. 

“Not yet,” he tells you, and you feel your walls clench at the sound of his authoritative tone. You slow down your hips a little and pant softly as you continue to ride him slower. 

In a flash of white, he’s snaked his arm around your hips and flipped you onto your back, slipping out of you in the process. Your legs dangle up in the air as you blink at him and catch your breath a bit. 

He gives no warning as he takes control and slides into you again, all the way home, and you keen from the perfection of his dick fitting so wonderfully inside you. His pubic bone teases your clit and your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as he draws his hips back and fucks into you again, but harder. 

You feel his balls slap against your ass each time he ruts his hips into yours and you are rendered speechless from the feeling of his cock pounding into you. 

Your brain is overcome with emotion from a combination of not being able to articulate any words and the way he’s fucking you senseless, and you find tears pricking your eyes and filling your vision. 

You try to blink them away and avoid eye contact by looking down to watch the way he fits so smoothly inside you, but this only overwhelms your senses more. 

Sight. 

Your back arches, a whine falling from your lips which quickly turns into a breathless moan of his name. 

“Baby…you cryin’?” He coos, leaning down and resting his body weight on yours, continuing to fuck his cock into your heat. 

“M-m…” your lip trembles as you cry, the tears rolling along the side of your face as your legs quake. You try to ground yourself, bringing a shaky hand up around his back, feeling the way his muscles are tensing, but it’s no use. 

You feel the imminence of your orgasm as the pressure increases, your walls tightening, making it harder for him to keep pounding into you the way he was. But he doesn’t let up. He keeps going, knowing all too well the signs your body was giving him. He reaches between you, pressing his thumb to your clit, teasing it, circling it. 

You gasp for breath, shallowly, your heart racing, the sound of your wetness accentuating the way your hips were colliding. 

Sound. 

You had made a complete mess of yourself, him, and the bed, but your senses were so overwhelmed by him that you didn’t even notice. 

With each pump of his cock into you, you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge. Your body cannot hold up for another second, the tension having built up so forcefully that it’s sudden; your body releases, the orgasm washing over your entire body and causing you to let out a sound that’s partly a moan and partly a cry. Your walls clench so tightly around Satoru’s cock that it pulls a strangled groan from him, his deep pants only adding to the high of your orgasm. 

He slows down, rocking his hips into yours now and riding you through it as your walls clench less. But he doesn’t stop. 

You tremble under him as you feel the heavy drag of him sliding in and out of your gummy walls. “You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he praises, and you choke out a soft cry as you melt into the sheets. “Shh…I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

His soft voice contrasts with the harsh plunge of his cock deep into you and he begins to fuck you relentlessly once again. Your body had not fully recovered from your first orgasm, yet your second was fast approaching. Feeling overwhelmed and quickly becoming overstimulated, you try to inhale deeply to steady your mind but the delicious scent of his sweat and his pheromones takes over your nose. 

Smell. 

That was it. The final sense, unlocked, consumed in full. Every single cell in your body is consumed by him. Your brain begins to shut down, very well and truly cockdrunk, and he can see this, how he’s got you putty in his hands, senses so gone that you’ve been rendered speechless and become his fuck toy. 

He brings his fingers to your cheek and caresses it softly, “Talk to me, sweetness… wanna hear you.”

His soft coaxing stirs something to life inside you and you feel like you’d been outside of your body for a moment and had come crashing back into it and into this moment. 

“I’m gonna come,” you rasp out. You let out a gasp when you feel the emptiness of your walls when he slips out of you, stopping the tension that was building in its tracks. 

He loves having control, the power, it’s something he gets off on. So when he grabs your legs and pushes them back, folding you in half, you find yourself starting to cry once more. Not from discomfort, nor from sadness, just from pure overwhelm. 

“Toru,” you cry his name and he lets out a low grunt at how fucking sexy you sound. 

“Give me one more, sweet girl,” he dips his head to lock his lips with yours in a long kiss and all you can do is nod through your tears as he slips into you again. 

He’s quick to return to his previous pace, rough, deep, making sure you feel every single ridge of his cock inside you. You felt everything more now because of the new position, and you cling onto the pillow as you feel the tension building fast.

“I-I…I’m close, Toru,” you whine out and you sit up a little, mustering whatever strength you had left in that moment to pull him down to kiss you. With his lips on yours in a bruising kiss, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your swollen clit, and his cock pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, you’re tipped over the edge into the throes of bliss, breathless moans being drawn from you. You feel the rush of your second release wash over your body, this one stronger and more prominent than the first, every nerve ending in your body on fire. 

Satoru’s hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him so tightly, and he tries to hold off but he doesn’t know if he can. He kisses you again, and again, finding a steady pace as he allows you to catch your breath for a moment. “Come for me,” you whisper to his lips, and it catches him off guard slightly, but he wasn’t ready for what you said next, “come in me.”

He groans your name deeply, rutting his hips roughly into yours a few more times until his orgasm takes hold of him, hot streams of cum being released into you and painting your walls. He slows to a stop and then lies on top of you, closing his eyes as he enjoys the high. Your hand threads through his soft hair, and you run your fingers through it gently, both of your bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat as you pant for breath. 

“You definitely sobered me up,” you let out a breathless, tired laugh. 

He looks up at you, giving you a languid kiss, staying connected and in your arms. 

“I had to mark my territory,” he shrugs and you flick his arm. “What? I had to remind you that you’re all mine, and always will be,” he smirks. 

 The phrase ‘fucked your brains out’ had found a whole new meaning, because, fuck, did he. 

~

Do not copy or translate my work.

© ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

[cosmerelists]

Pros and Cons of Stormlight Characters in the Middle Seat Next to You on a Budget Airline.

As requested by anon. :)

1. Kaladin

Cons: His legs are so long. His hair is so luxurious. His shoulders are so broad. This large, beautiful man is not trying to be in your space, but the budget airline seat cannot contain him. Pros: You started what you thought was an idle conversation, but by the end of your flight, he had diagnosed your chronic pain and become your therapist??

2. Shallan

Pros: Well, she's more of a regular-sized human and she's friendly but quiet. She seems to just want to sketch the whole flight, so no complaints! Cons: Why does she keep staring directly at a space across the plane and sketching the creepiest symbol-headed creatures you've ever seen with her eyes vaguely glazed over like she doesn't even know she's doing it holy shit is this a Twilight Zone situation where there are invisible gremlin monsters on this plane that only she can see and is it your imagination or do you hear humming from somewhere

3. Adolin

Cons: Listen, this is a budget airline, and this guy seems to think it's a fancy spa?? He's got the slippers, the posh eye mask, the luxurious travel pillow, some really nice face creams, and he seems to be video chatting with a girl even though the internet on the plane doesn't even work. Frankly, you're jealous and grouchy about it. Pros: Okay, he actually seems really sweet and he gave you some of his way-too-nice-for-an-airplane snacks. You take it all back; this guy is awesome.

4. Szeth

Pros: He is so still. So quiet. Almost folded in on himself. Barely...breathing? Honestly, you keep forgetting the middle seat is occupied, and how rare is that! Cons: You just...you think you'd feel better if he just blinked. Just once. Please.

5. Lift

Cons: You had to sigh just a little when a little kid plopped down next to you. Also, she goes to the bathroom every five minutes, and comes back with food every time. You think she might be robbing people. Pros: She complimented your butt quite sincerely. You've always been kinda self-conscious about your butt! But apparently yours is the "second best she's ever seen." Feels nice.

6. Jasnah

Pros: Like, is it possible for someone to just be really good at flying? She came in, expertly stowed her luggage, sat down elegantly, did her seatbelt, used a wipe to clean up the tray table and surrounding area, and immediately starting reading some thick tome. Do you have a crush on her? You might have a crush on her. Cons: She glanced at the book you're reading, and you know she judged you for it.

7. Wit

Cons: Does this guy EVER stop talking? Pros: Okay, actually, you found him kind of annoying at first, but that story he told you about the temple and the duck might have healed years of trauma? Did you just realize that you don't have to forgive your mom and that's okay?

8. Renarin

Pros: He sat down and you were like, "Okay. Cute nerd. I dig it." Cons: You just wish he wouldn't scrawl foreboding-seeming numerals on the back of the airline chair in front of him. Is it counting down to...just before the plane lands? What does it mean???

9. Amarem

Cons: He came in and was IMMEDIATELY like, "I am taller than you and so I should have your seat." And then he just...waited? Like he thought you'd just comply??? Pros: He seems intent on pretending that never happened. Fine by you. That guy seems like an asshole.

10. Zahel

Pros: He falls asleep, like, immediately and doesn't stir for the entire flight. Cons: He's just kinda stinky.

11. Dalinar

Cons: He sits down and, unprompted, says something like, "In my youth I would always battle to occupy every armrest but now, after reading The Way of Planes, I have realized that it is the journey, not the armrests, that matter, so you can have them" and then you're like, "Dude, the person in the middle seat gets the armrests that's just common courtesy" and then he looks at you and you look at him and it's vaguely awkward the whole flight and nobody uses the armrests. Pros: Actually, after a while you do take the armrest and the tension goes down a lot.

12. Taravangian

Pros: He just kinda seems like a nice old man, you know? Kinda confused about stuff, but harmless enough. Cons: He falls asleep partway through and droops his head onto your shoulder and drools a bit and you know you sound ridiculous but it feels somehow calculated. Intentional. Evil.

13. Sebarial

Cons: The very second beverage service starts he's all, "Bring me a BOTTLE of wine" and you're like, "Oh no. It's one of those dudes who gets way too drunk on planes!" Pros: You know? This guy actually seems pretty jolly and chill. You catch yourself thinking, "I wish I could pretend he was my uncle." You're not sure where that came from.

14. Rock

Pros: He scoffs at the provided airline snacks and gets out this thermos and gives you the best damn soup you've ever had in your life. Cons: He's just a large, warm man. Very large. Very warm. Not his fault, of course, but now YOU are very warm.

15. Elhokar

Cons: Every time there is plane turbulence, he mutters something about how it's the assassins coming to finish the job. Poor dude must be really scared of flying. Pros: You feel a warm, parental feeling growing in you as you look at this sad, scared man. Maybe your mom was right. Maybe you WOULD be good with kids.

16. Eshonai

Pros: This lady is, just, SO excited to be traveling that it can't help but make YOU excited to travel. Like, you always thought plane travel sucked, especially budget airline travel, be she is so delighted by everything that you find yourself thinking, "You know, it IS pretty amazing that we're soaring through the sky right now traveling to a new land." Cons: Cons? No cons. You wish you could ALWAYS see flying through this woman's eyes.

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9 Part 2

Summary: Azriel’s been subjected to the effects of a love potion, causing him to be incredibly clingy to you. You have to take care of him until it wears off.

Author’s note: ask and you shall receive! The people wanted it, the people got it! I’m also open to doing a short part 3 where they find out that Cassian and Rhys gave Az the potion - but let me know!

(Part 1)

You open the door, stepping back in. Immediately you are surrounded by shadows circling every part of your body, twirling through your hair, around your legs, your waist, your wrists.

“Thank gods, you were gone for hours,” Azriel whines, striding over to you, picking you up and spinning you.

“Az, sweetie, I was gone for five minutes.” You reply, chuckling as he sets you back down.

“It was days. I was starting to worry I’d need to eat my foot.” His hand gently caresses your face, before he crouches down and picks you up over his shoulder. He dashes over to the bed, placing you on top of it and then laying directly on top of you.

“You’re squishing me,” you mumble into his neck.

“Yes,” he replies, not elaborating more.

You huff, moving your arms out to get more comfortable. Without saying anything, his hands grip your waist, and he flips you two so you’re on top of him. Your legs straddle his waist, and he holds you impossibly tight to his chest.

“My turn!” He exclaims, and you’ll have to note that love potions make you 1) incredibly clingy and 2) essentially drunk.

You lay on top of him, wondering if he was going to fall asleep like this. He has been busy the past few days, and you always worry when he’s gone whether or not he sleeps properly.

You hear his breathing get deeper and you think he’s fallen asleep until he murmurs, “feels s’good.”

You didn’t even realize you were lazily tracing your fingers up and down his arm. You still yourself, worried that this was too much, that when he sobered up he’d feel violated. Cassian’s words ring through your mind, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.” Was that true? Could he?

You feel yourself getting a little too comfortable, when a realization hits you. “You stink,” you say, beginning to untangle yourself from him, “you need a bath.”

“Trying to get me naked, sweetheart?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows as he stands up and starts undoing his leathers.

“No! No, you just have been gone a few days. You reek of the forest.”

He stops undoing the straps his arm covers, “do you not like forest men?”

You shake your head no, “no, I like clean smelling men. I’ll start a bath for you, okay?”

He whines, “will you help me bathe?”

You sigh, the pitiful look on his face working on you. “No, I think you’re capable of bathing yourself.” Being a healer, you were used to nudity, it didn’t bother you, except for when it came to the male you were head over heels for, who was currently standing in front of you.

He starts undoing his leathers again, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. You can’t stop yourself from staring - watching the tattoos that cover his chest as they practically dance across his skin as he’s moving. Tracing your eyes down his arms, watching his fingers move, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the floor. You genuinely can’t stop yourself from ogling this man standing completely naked in front of you.

You, Feyre, and Nesta had all gossiped about which one of them you thought would be the biggest, all three of you declaring it would definitely be Azriel. Staring at this marble statue of a male, the three of you were right. There’s no physical way the other two brothers could measure up to him.

“Like what you see?” Your head whips up to meet his eyes, looking at you with drunken amusement. He chuckles, enjoying the way you looked at him. Your cheeks are on fire, you’ve never ogled a patient before. But also, Azriel’s never been in such need of patient care.

He walks over to you, and you take a step back. “You’re drugged, and it would be a terrible idea for anything to transpire while you’re in such a state.” You declare, trying to maintain some sense of professionalism.

“So you don’t want to join me in the bath?” He asks, trying to step closer, as you side step him. “That would be a very bad idea,” you say, stepping away from him and toward the bathroom.

“Actually I think I got injured on my mission,” he says, a pained expression overtaking his face, “I don’t think I can bathe myself. Can you help me?”

His expression shows mock pain, but his eyes are aglow with amusement.

You laugh, “okay, fine, if you get in, I’ll help you.”

-

You didn’t take into consideration just how much he would enjoy your touch on him as you bathed him. Honestly it was actually very pleasant - you lit a few candles for him, and gathered a few washcloths and some soap. He was still covered in dirt from his mission, so you started by dipping the cloth into the water and cleaning off his arms.

You start humming, enjoying the peace and quiet of the bathroom. His room was nice and cozy, a surprising contrast to the image he wishes to portray to the world.

After cleaning his arms, you ask him to tilt his head back, “so I can wash your hair.”

He does as you ask, and you had actually stepped out to your room to gather your bathing supplies for him. His room was sparse of supplies, so you figured he could just smell like you for a day or two.

You cup your hands together, forming a basin with them, gather water, and pour it gently over the top of his head. After wetting his hair enough, you lather some shampoo in your hand, gently coursing your fingers through his hair.

You hear him practically purring at the situation of your fingers rubbing into his scalp. “Does that feel good?” You tease.

“Gods, yes. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done that for me before.”

Your heart breaks a little at the admission, not sure how anyone can be so cruel to him. Teasing aside, he was always incredibly kind to you and all the other members of the inner circle. You swear you haven’t had to open a door for yourself since coming to the night court and you’ve never been worried that they don’t like you. The male before you had always made you feel so included, even when you hardly knew anyone.

“Well, if you want, you can ask anytime and I’d be more than happy to help.” You say, trying to get the sentiment across.

You two continue in peaceful silence, before he asks, “can you sing for me? I once heard you singing, you were in the kitchen, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Gods, you thought, he’s really trying to make me a puddle.

“Sometimes I hear you singing in my dreams.”

“What do I sing about?”

He thinks for a moment, “seeing me again. You only sing in my dreams when I’m away. You sing to me, asking me to come home.”

His admission makes you want to squeal, but you oblige his request and start singing an old song, one you had heard in your home court at a bar. You sing as you untangle his hair, a tale about falling in love as if some force was pulling the subject of the song to the singer.

“You have delicate hands,” he says, his head still tilted back. You had finished rinsing out his hair, but he was so calm like this, you just kept raking your fingers across his head.

“And a beautiful voice. A beautiful everything, really. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. And kind. And smart. You’re so nice to me.”

“I could say the same things about you, Az. You’re also incredibly kind and beautiful.”

He just kept his head tilted back, enjoying the peace of this bath. You’re wondering what he’s thinking about, when he starts speaking again, “can you do this every time I come back from a mission? Might make me come home faster too.”

You giggle, “sure, I can do this after every mission.”

You didn’t mind agreeing - either you got to do this or Azriel will completely forget he asked. Gods, you think, will he remember any of this? On one hand, you know he’ll be incredibly embarrassed and flustered, on the other, you’re not sure how you can pretend none of this happened.

You help Azriel out of the bath, handing him a towel so he can dry off when he grabs your wrist. “Thank you,” he says, looking into your eyes.

You’re not sure if the effects of the potion are starting to wear off, but he seems less loopy, but still just as clingy. You smile in response to him, turn to leave, when he tightens his grip on your wrist.

“Can you dry off my wings? I hate going to bed with wet wings.” He says, and his hand has reached up and is caressing your jaw now.

“Won’t that uh, make you.. ya know?” You say, gesturing with your hands trying not to say the words.

“Make me…?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your cheeks burn with heat, “aren’t wings like super sensitive?” You practically whisper. He laughs, “yes, but mostly just to touch from someone, rubbing a towel on it isn’t that seductive, I must say. Knowing you’re the one holding the towel, however..” he trails off, and he spends a moment just looking you up and down.

“Stop that,” you say, grabbing a towel.

“Stop what?” He asks, spreading out his wings for you to dry them. You start dabbing his wings with the towel, rubbing the towel up and down his left wing.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a meal,” you say, focusing on his wing.

His hand grasps your thigh. “But darling, how can I not? You’re taking care of me, touching me. Regardless, if I was a condemned man, I’d pick you for my last meal.”

You stop cleaning his wing at his words, “sweetheart,” he groans at the pet name, “nothing can happen while you’re still under the effects of this love potion, talk to me when you’re clear-headed.”

You resume cleaning his wings, honestly amazed at all the nooks and crannies. You’ve always wanted to see Ilyrian wings up close, but have never been confident enough to ask any of them. You know they’d probably let you look at them for medical knowledge, but they feel so… personal.

“But baby, I’m not under a love potion. I’m under your love spell.” He waggles his eyebrows, still with his eyes closed, enjoying both the cleaning of his wings and making you fidget like this.

“I did not cast a love spell or love potion on you!” You say indignantly.

“You existed and charmed me immediately.”

“I did not,“ you reply.

“After I met you, I spent days trying to learn everything I could about you. Your powers, where you’re from, your favorite cookies. Rhys caught on super quickly, unfortunately, and wouldn’t tell me more about you. ‘Ask her yourself’ he told me,” he says, doing a quite spot-on impression of the high lord.

“And did you ask me yourself?”

“I tried to get Cassian to do it, the bastard figured it out pretty quickly. You were just so pretty, how was I supposed to walk up to you and go ,”hello, tell me everything about yourself, I’ll listen. Are you free forever?” He looked so lovestruck, you couldn’t believe you could have this kind of effect on him.

You giggle, “well, I’m pretty easy to impress. I’m ashamed to admit it but that line would have worked on me. Honestly any line from you would have worked on me.”

He bolts upright, “you mean to tell me we could have been having gloriously hot sex this whole time?”

Your cheeks flame, “well I mean hopefully there’d be other stuff too, I’m not that easy.”

He tilts his head back in laughter, “you might not be that easy, but I am.”

You laugh, “okay Mr. Nice and Easy, I’ve finished drying off your wings, how are you feeling?”

He thinks for a moment, “honestly, I’m pretty tired. I don’t sleep well on missions - too wired to sleep.”

In addition to the clinginess, the love potion is making him so vulnerable. It’s nice to have him open up to you like this - how can you go back to how it was? You two were very friendly before, but this? This is a whole new level of vulnerability.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that as he was leaned against the cupboard, he had started falling asleep. You convince him to lay in his bed. He agrees, but “only if you come with me.”

He insists on you cuddling with him. You tell him you’ll go grab some pajamas, but he whines and takes off his shirt, handing it to you. “Your room’s too far,” he says, “besides I think you look adorable in my clothes.”

-

Azriel woke softly, a warmth pressed against him. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he slept so well - usually only when he’s injured and you or Madja provide him a concoction to sleep for days to heal.

He looked down, seeing your head nuzzled into his neck, his mind exploding with questions - did we do it and I forgot? Was I drunk? Gods, he thought, I hope not. He lifted the blanket a smidge, and both of you were fully clothed, eliminating that possibility. He did note that you were wearing his shirt, the back slits undone so we could see little slithers of your back. His hand was resting there, touching the exposed parts of your back.

He starts trying to remember what led him here - the mission, coming home, his brothers, the debrief, waiting for you to come check on him. Oh, gods. It all came back to him. He grabbed your ass, shamelessly. He flirted with you, shamelessly. He flirted with you, while he was naked. You bathed him. He wouldn’t let you go farther than 6 feet away from him. You dried his wings. You sang for him.

That’s it, he thinks. I’ll have to move. There’s no way she’ll want anything to do with me after forcing myself on her for hours. Maybe I can work for Helion in Day.

His thoughts are interrupted by you nuzzling your face into his neck. He swears he feels you kiss his neck, but he’s not sure.

He feels you stir after a while, and you look up at him, a sleepy smile adorning your face. “Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling this morning?”

He groans, “you can stop the nicknames, I think the potion’s out of my system.” He sees your face falter for a split second before composing yourself.

“Ah,” you say, “how much do you remember?”

He sighs, tightening his grip around you. Convinced you’re about to disown him and want nothing to do with him, he’ll take all the physical contact he can get right now. “I remember all of it, and I’m… I can’t believe I did all those things.”

“I don’t think you should feel too embarrassed,” you say, rubbing his arm.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, “and why not? I’ve practically been forcing myself on you for twelve hours.”

You giggle, still rubbing his arm, “did you know that love potions only work if you already have feelings for someone? Love potions work by just taking what’s there and bringing it to the surface. It smells different for everyone, smelling like things you’re attracted to.”

He stills at your words. He could deal with the embarassment of being all over you, but the knowledge that you now posess that he has deep feelings for you? It’s too much, he thinks, putting his face in his hands.

“People who take love potions are often covered in the smell of it, and it comes off of their breath like alcohol.” He feels your hands wrap around his that are still covering his face. “I uh couldn’t smell it on you. I smelled your canteen out in the hallway,” you pause, “it smelled like books, and fresh ink, and you.” His eyes snap to your face, and you look directly into his eyes.

You clear your throat, so what you’re about to say will come out as clear as possible. “If I drank a love potion right now, I would be hanging all over you, telling you how beautiful you are and how much I think about you. I’d probably also tell you that it was incredibly difficult not to give into your advances yesterday, because I did not want you to regret anything. As much as I wanted something to happen, I didn’t want it like that. At least, not the first time.”

He keeps your eye contact, searching your face for any trace of amusement.

“There’s a first time?” He asks, a smug look overcoming his face.

You laugh, “there’s as many times as you’ll have me.”

“Well I think it’s only fair for it to be your turn, falling all over yourself, telling me how beautiful I am.”

“Yeah?” You ask, putting your hands on his face. “Yeah,” he replies. “Well in that case,” you start, leaning in closer, “you are devastatingly gorgeous,” you kiss his cheek, “incredibly kind,” you kiss his other cheek, “oh so smart,” you kiss his forehead, “and I am hopelessly obsessed with you.” You lean forward, catching his lips in your mouth. Your lips move in harmony, his hands gripping your waist. You press yourself into him, deepening the kiss.

After minutes, hours, or days, you pull your head back and tell him, “now, uh, if I’m supposed to be hopelessly in love with you, I think you’re supposed to take care of me and give me a sponge bath.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Thirteen

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.9K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

"So, how does this work?" She asked as she laid against Lando's chest. Oscar was sitting above them, Lando's head in his lap as he pushed his fingers through the curls.

Oscar turned his attention to her. He didn't stop brushing Lando's curls, but he did it mindlessly as he gave her his full attention. "How does what work?" He asked, laughing when Lando moved his head up, chasing his touch.

Maybe it was the post sex glow, but the two of them looked so pretty beneath him. Lando was practically falling asleep at his touch and she was blinking up at him with those pretty, pretty eyes.

She gestured between the two of them and Oscar sucked in a breath. He didn't know how this worked. between him and Lando. It was something they were figuring out as they went along.

"The whole werewolf and vampire thing."

Oscar deflated, released a breath as he slumped back. "For a vampire, you have to be bitten and then drink the blood of the vampire that bit you," he answered and stopped the movement of his hand in Lando's hair.

A snore left Lando's lips. "No way," Oscar whispered and grinned down at Lando. Tomorrow was the full moon, and that was going to drain him, he knew. But he looked like a sleeping angel, his head still in Oscar's lap.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, holding her chin in such a sweet way.

They slept against him, but Oscar stay awake. He was a vampire; he didn't need sleep. He raised his hand to his neck and touched his bitemark. Two puncture wounds in his neck that would never heal. Every other injury he'd ever had, scars from before he was turned disappearing in a blink of an eye.

Part of him couldn't remember what it was like to dream, to escape into a world that was so entirely his own. Where anything could happen.

The things she and Lando had described dreaming about sounded so impossible that he couldn't begin to imagine them.

For the last hundred years, Oscar had hated staying awake while the rest of the world slept. But now he had something to stay awake for. Two people he loved, sleeping on his lap while he watched over them, keeping then safe.

When early morning sunlight danced into Lando's bedroom, Oscar placed a gentle touch to her cheek. She rolled away from his fingers and, still asleep, pushed him away.

He tried not to let the hurt show on his face as he gently woke her up. "Morning, sweetheart," he said as she opened her eyes. She immediately shut them again and let out a dramatic groan, rolling her body towards Lando.

"Hey," he whispered and rolled her back towards him. "We gotta go."

It was the day before the full moon. Oscar had already pushed his luck by staying in the pack house and keeping her there also. He knew that tensions would be high from the moment to pack woke up.

She let out a noise and snuggled closer to Lando. "Five more minutes, Osc," she mumbled and pressed a kiss to Lando's shoulder. His response was to tighten his grip on her.

Oscar ran his hand through his hair and then started to untangle Lando's arms from around her. "The pack won't be able to control themselves around me," he explained, voice still soft. "They'll try to kill me, and they won't be able to stop it."

Reluctantly, she let go of Lando. But he hadn't let go of her. No matter how hard the two of them tried, Lando's grip remained tight. Giving up on the niceties, Oscar pulled on Land's arm in an attempt to unravel him.

His eyes snapped open, a growl leaving his lips. His usually bluey green (or greeny blue, neither of them could tell, they just knew they were beautiful) eyes were yellow as he stared at Oscar. They'd seen them flash yellow before. But this was more than that. This was dangerous.

"Lando," she said softly, laying her hand on his chest. "Lando, my love." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and let her hand travel down, travel towards the hand on her back. "I need to head home. But Oscar and I will see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Lando kept his grip on her tight. But she gently pried his hands away from her and slipped out of his grip. He reached for her, his noise desperate. Beyond talking, Oscar realised, his heart aching for him. He reached out and pushed his fingers through Lando's curls.

A rumble started up in his chest, something close to a purr. His eyes natural colour flashed between the yellow, but it never remained for very long. "Stay safe for me," he whispered and dropped a kiss to his forehead.

As soon as she was dressed, Oscar grabbed a hold of her hand. He spared Lando one last glance before pulling her out of the room. The noise that Lando released was pained, but then it turned angry. He launched himself off of the bed and chased after them.

Oscar held her close as he moved impossibly fast. Well, impossibly fast for a human. She gripped him tight as he ran out of the pack house and into the woods. The wolves were behind them, both of them knew it. Chasing them towards her house.

He took her in through the window. As soon as she was safely on her bedroom floor and her window was shut, Oscar released her. "Sorry about that," he said through a breath as he turned his attention to the window. The wolf pack were out there, no longer human.

"What was that?" She asked, wincing (from the night before) as she sat on the bed.

Oscar released a breath as he sat beside her. "It's the night of the full moon," he explained. She gave a nod as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It messes with their brains. If I wasn't there, you would have been safe. But their instincts say 'Kill the Vampire'. They no longer see me, just a blood sucker."

Standing up, she joined him at the window. There was movement at the edge of the woods, an indicator that the pack was still there, waiting for Oscar to reappear.

***

The pack gave up hunting the Vampire. They waited at the edge of the woods, hidden from the human house until another scent caught their attention.

Most of the pack had the foresight to stock up on food before the full moon took over everything. But not Lando. He'd been busy. Busy doing what? Now, Lando didn't know. But the patchwork of hickies on his human body told another story.

The wind changed direction and he caught the smell of a deer. Just one, grazing somewhere in the woods. He put his hunting instincts to good use and and chased after the deer.

Hunger sated, Lando returned to the pack house. Everybody else had already returned from chasing the Vampire, watching him with yellow eyes as he walked towards them on all fours.

All Carlos had to do was scruff him to have him changing back. "Not yet," he said through a growl. It wasn't aggressive or unkind, but his control over his emotions had slipped.

The daytime before the full moon sucked. The pack sat around, energy building up. Just a few more hours and they'd be able to run beneath the full moon.

The pack tried to entertain themselves in different ways. Carlos tried cooking something, but the pan ended up bent in half and thrown against the wall. Daniel's knee was bouncing as he tried to meditate. But the packs preferred method of entertaining themselves was to fight.

It wasn't a proper fight, pairs of them wrestling on the grass until the moon rose in the sky.

All ten members of the pack transformed beneath the moonlight. None of them were particularly big werewolves, with Lando being one of the smallest in the pack. He was small, but he was strong and fast.

Running beneath the full moon was a tradition that dated back to the first pack of werewolves. It was something they looked forward to every month.

Carlos led the pack. He released a howl, one the rest of his pack copied, and started forward. They didn't launch into a run right away, paws heavy against the forest floor as they walked. But it sped up until the pack was running. Carlos stayed ahead of the pack. Every time one of the boys tried to overtake him, he growled and snapped his jaws at them until they fell back into formation.

They were passing by her house. Just on the other side of the trees, she was there. Following his instincts, he broke away from the pack. Alone, he walked the woods, keeping himself low and invisible.

There she was, in her bedroom. He could see her at her desk, and released a howl. It wasn't an uncommon noise in town. But he hid himself beneath the shrubbery as her fathers bedroom light flicked on.

He peered out, searching for anything in the woods. When he saw nothing, he returned to his bed, light flicking off.

But she was there, back door open for him. He padded over, cold nose pressing against her bare leg as he walked past. His steps were slow and careful, his nails making soft clicks against the floor. She shut the door and laced her fingers through his soft fur.

The two of them crept through the house and up to her bedroom. She stayed ahead of him, checking for any sign of her family.

They made it to her room, unscathed. "Hi," she said as she sat on her bed. Her fingers moved through his fur and scratched behind his ears. His tail thumped against the floor as he looked at her. "You scared me this morning," she whispered as she sat up against her pillow.

Lando climbed onto the bed beside her and laid his head on her lap. "Aren't you meant to be with your pack?"

He made a low noise.

They fell asleep like that, her hand in his fur. At some point in the night he transformed back, and her hand fell into his curls. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.

It was almost perfect.

Lando didn't know what woke him up. Something in the air, a feeling, a smell, it wasn't right. His eyes snapped open, back to their usual pretty colour. He looked at her, sleeping beneath him, and unwound his arms.

The feeling that settled in his gut was awful. He sat up and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. NOT SAFE! NOT SAFE! NOT SAFE! His instincts were screaming at him as he walked over to the window.

Movement at the edge of the woods wasn't uncommon. Wolves, his pack seeking him out. It was a comforting site.

But this wasn't his face. The unfamiliar werewolf stared at at him with glowing red eyes.

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@darleneslane

@hiireadstuff

@urfavnoirette

@goldenharrysworld

@andydrysdalerogers

@llando4norris

@evlkking

@lilymurphy03

@hollie911

@customsbyjcg-blog

@honethatty12

@nikfigueiredo

@not-nyasa

@nurse-floyd

Series Taglist (CLOSED): @cmleitora

@booksandflowrs

@evie-119

@annispamz

@neilakk

@ginsengi

@lighttsoutlewis

@charleslecler

@eviethetheatrefreak

@rbv3rstappen

@vicurious28

@val-writes

@lovecarsgoingvroom

@minmira95

@forza-dolce

@lindsayjoy444

@ophleiahome

@cassielikereading

@styl1shl1v

@ln4norizz

[thedensworld]

Sweet Macaroons | C.Sc

Pairing: Gangster!Seungcheol x Baker!Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Words Count: ±600

Summary: Seungcheol was far from pleased when a food critic posted a negative review that started to impact your sales. He couldn't stand to see you upset.

In the midst of a picturesque five months, Seungcheol, with an air of exclusivity, tenderly asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around you, as if the universe itself was savoring the moment. His crew, astounded, couldn't fathom that a humble bakery owner just down the block from their bar had captured their boss's heart. He had transformed into something they never imagined: a unabashedly cheesy boy. Even Jeonghan, Seungcheol's right-hand man, remained baffled by the depth of his friend's infatuation with you. He couldn't quite grasp what had caused Seungcheol to fall so hard until he witnessed how Seungcheol would gladly stop the world at your command.

As an example of Seungcheol's devotion, he had gone as far as hiring a bodyguard to watch over you and ensure your safety. Seungcheol, ever mysterious about his business, would simply say, "I do business in Seoul and Busan," which, in its own way, was true. He owned nearly a hundred bars and nightclubs, not to mention his own association—a realm of details you didn't need to delve into.

Your bodyguard, Jun, who currently disguised as a barista in your bakery, would dutifully relay every detail to Seungcheol. This included mundane activities like your trips to the grocery store, visits from friends at the bakery, or even encounters with rude customers. Despite being in the know about your daily affairs through Jun, Seungcheol cherished hearing you recount your day, especially when it involved a customer that cussed on you. He'd teasingly inquire, "Should I track him down and make him pay?" A promise he would have swiftly fulfilled if you had not said, "No, you don't have to. I'll give him a piece mind when I'm a billionaire."

At times, Seungcheol really wants to say, "Marry me, and you can cuss him back in an instant." He was acutely aware of the influence he held.

However, he received an extremely irritating message from Jun, stating that a popular food critic had left a scathing review on their social media, claiming to have found a fly and cockroach legs in your sweets. This review had a detrimental impact on your sales and the overall image of the bakery, as people began leaving unpleasant comments on your social media platforms.

"Jeonghan, do you know this person?" Seungcheol inquired, displaying a video of the food critic.

Jeonghan confirmed, "Yeah, they're a very influential food critic."

Seungcheol nodded thoughtfully and hummed, "Do you know how to contact them?" he pressed further.

"I think we just need to get in touch with their management. They'll provide you with the pricing for their content," Jeonghan explained, prompting another question from Seungcheol.

"Then we can have them review our food however we want?" Jeonghan nodded, "Why? Are you thinking about having them promote our new foodbar?" he inquired.

Seungcheol shook his head, simultaneously signaling to Jeonghan that he wanted to be dropped off at your bakery.

Jun had informed Seungcheol that you had closed the bakery early today due to the lack of customers following the internet sensation. When Seungcheol arrived, only Jun was present in the bakery. He mentioned that you had gone to the convenience store for a few minutes. As Seungcheol patiently waited at one of the tables, you returned with a plastic bag in hand. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't immediately notice him. Instead, you went straight to Jun, telling him he could go home. Jun subtly gestured towards Seungcheol, indicating that he was waiting for you.

"Hi..." Your voice, though soft as always, carries a subtle shade of sadness. Seungcheol swears he can hear it, a touch of blue in your tone.

He smiles, approaching you and subtly signaling for Jun to leave the shop.

"Are you okay? I saw it online," Seungcheol asks gently once Jun has vanished from view.

You smile back at him, but tears well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. You turn away, hiding your face from him as you wipe away the tears. Seungcheol's heart aches at the sight, a feeling he's never experienced before, like someone's squeezing his heart, causing a deep ache.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs softly, turning you to face him and pulling you into an embrace. He can feel the tightness in his chest intensify when he hears you sob.

This is the first time he's seen you cry in the five months you've been dating. He swears he'd never want to be the cause of your tears, let alone someone else.

"It's okay, baby. Bad things happen sometimes. It's not your fault," he reassures you as you try to explain how diligently you maintain your bakery's hygiene and ensure the freshness of ingredients. There's no way the accusations the food critic made could be true.

Seungcheol noticed the contents of the plastic bag you had been holding earlier: cleaning soap and equipment. His heart breaks once again, this time tinged with anger.

"Let's go home and rest, okay? I'll hire someone to clean the shop. I don't want to see you laboring with a heavy heart like this," he insists.

Seungcheol calls Jeonghan and swiftly arranges for his people to clean your shop. He drives you home, ensuring you have a proper dinner before settling down for some much-needed rest. Once you're peacefully asleep, he quietly slips away, reaching out to Jun and Jeonghan.

"Get them for me before midnight. Alive," he instructs.

Seungcheol doesn't concern himself with the specifics of how they carried out his request. But when his people successfully bring them to his office, he finally confronts the face that caused his girl to cry.

"What's your name?" Seungcheol asks, rising from his seat and approaching them.

"Who put you up to this?" Seungcheol presents their damning post about your bakery to their face. Poor soul, Seungcheol thinks. This food critic probably never imagined they'd be dragged in by a gangster and subjected to an interrogation like this.

Once Seungcheol acquires the name, he signals his people to reveal the extent of their capabilities. Images of their family and significant other are displayed, and they immediately plead for an apology, expressing regret for their actions.

"You should've thought about that before you posted that garbage," Seungcheol states, fixing them with a steely gaze.

"Upload a clarification video about your previous review. Go to that bakery tomorrow and apologize to the owner. Post both of those things before lunch if you want to spare them," Seungcheol directs, referring to the individuals in the photos as he delivers his unwavering ultimatum.

*

"It was a very wrong act of me to accept the offer to give a bad review to another bakery. I deeply apologize to the owner and my followers for doing such a wrong thing."

Seungcheol smiled at you as you showed him the video from the same account that had claimed they found a cockroach leg on your macaroon.

"See! I knew that my bakery and kitchen have passed the hygiene standards," you said, placing your phone down. There was a visible pout on your face, prompting Seungcheol to let out a chuckle.

"You're too cute," Seungcheol teased, pinching your cheek. He was relieved to see no trace of tears like the previous night.

You gently pulled his hand from your cheek as you stood up to restock the macaroon stall, which was nearly empty. Seungcheol couldn't help but smile as he watched you, his girl, his love, engrossed in the work you adored.

"Before you go, want a macaroon and your favorite latte?" you offered. He swore he would nod to anything you said.

"Here! I've packed some for your staff as well," you added, handing him boxes filled with sweets and a bundle of coffees for Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

He wouldn't let anyone steal your smile, even if he had to stop the world.

[astridthevalkyrie]

xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."

"how many more are there?"

"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."

"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.

with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."

he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.

sleep can wait another day.

zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"what do you think?"

he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"

"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."

he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.

"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"

predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.

rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.

he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."

a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."

he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."

you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."

"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.

"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"

his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.

"okay."

[ivy-elle]

The One About Virtues

Scaramouche’s fingers drum relentlessly against the coffee cup.  The rhythm spiking a little every minute that passes without anything moving.

You can still smell the last trace of nicotine from the cigarette he must have smoked earlier, mingling with the fragrance of coffee and the sweet perfume he claims to hate.

“This won’t finish faster just because you glare at it,” you murmur, eyes fixated on the laptop screen. You don’t look up when he scoffs, but you don’t even need to. His expression of impatience and irritation is one you’ve gotten all too accustomed to over the years.

“Well maybe you should be faster then,” he retorts.

You hum, unfazed. “The grass won’t grow quicker just because you pull on it. Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

His eyebrow twitches. “So is respect. As in respect for the time, which I so graciously offer, and you so thoughtlessly waste.”

Scaramouche casts a disdainful glance around the university cafeteria. How he despises being surrounded by loud, obnoxious people. The fact that you are able to focus on your assignments in this environment is beyond him.

You glance at him briefly, before turning back to your work. “Forgiveness is also a virtue.”

He turns his head back to you. The tapping of his finger stop as he leans in. “Then you would do well to remember – I do not indulge in forgiveness.”

You meet his eyes. “But you do indulge in me, don’t you?” One amused wink, and his brows furrow even more.

“You’re reaching.” His hand shoots out, snapping your laptop shut.

“Hey! What if I hadn’t saved my docs, you ass?”

“You’ve been done for at least five minutes already. You’re just enjoying testing my nerves.”

Your lips twitch. “For that, you have no evidence.”

He rises from his seat, throwing his coat back on in all dramatic manner. “Stop slacking around and let’s get home. I’m hungry.”

You quickly pack up your things and fall into step beside him. “We’re literally in a cafeteria right now. You know – the place where they serve food.”

With a scoff, he plucks your bag from your shoulder. “Do you wish to poison me?”

“Don’t tempt me.”