#see I told you I would get it done eventually!!!

[themultifanshipper]

i am ovulating so bad but can I request a franco x reader x ollie smut where they were fighting over the reader like that one fight scene from bridget jones' diary, and the reader was like... why not both??

To say the start of the 2025 season had been eventful was an understatement. 

Or at least from Franco and Ollie’s points of view. 

Warnings: smut, threesome, blowjob (the return of Franco's dick sucking lips), mention of quickies, also a lot of alcohol, Yukierre being little shits, Ted kravitz once again making an appearance, very plot heavy ngl there's not much smut

At some point during the winter break, you had struck up a situationship with Franco. And you’d managed to keep it a secret for about a week. 

There was no such thing as privacy in Monaco, so of course it was inevitable that someone would eventually snap a pic of him leaving your house, and that was it. 

Ollie had been planning on asking you out at the start of the season, given that he now had a full-time seat and you'd be seeing a lot more of each other. 

And he didn’t really consider Franco much of a threat, so he decided to ask him during testing. 

The two of them were gazing at you from across the pitlane. 

“Are you and her like... an official thing?”  

Franco scoffed “What is that supposed to mean?”  

“You know... do you love her?” 

Franco frowned at him.  

“No, I don’t. But just because we aren’t in a relationship, do not think for a second that I will let you have her” 

Ollie raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say I wanted to. I’m just curious.” 

Franco didn’t believe him. And Ollie didn’t believe Franco.  

And they were both right. 

Because the truth was that Franco was in love with you, but he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So he was fine with just sex, until he could muster the courage to confess to you.  

And the truth was that Ollie was going to do everything he could to have you. He did have feelings for you, that had been brewing for a while, but the added element of competition made him hungry. 

Ollie was nothing if not proactive. He took every opportunity to talk to you, and flirt shamelessly with you. 

And at first, you were reticent. 

You’d been waiting for Franco to make a move. You liked him, a lot. And you knew he liked you. So any day now, right? 

Except weeks went by, and still no indication that Franco was going to make any kind of commitment to you. Not even a drunk phonecall, or a proper date... 

So eventually, Ollie's advances started getting to you. You were only human.  

You had no idea that the two drivers were in any kind of altercation in Melbourne. 

Someone had spotted them having a heated argument and a blurry video was circulating around the more remote spots of the internet, so you missed it completely. 

In China, you got your first indication that something was going on. 

Before FP3, Ollie had come to you saying he wanted to talk to you about something important. 

You told him to meet you in your drivers room after the session, and that you had something to talk to him about as well. 

His heart swelled with hope. Perhaps you also had feelings for him and he was finally going to beat Franco. 

But then, Franco was there, in your drivers room, waiting for you after the session.  

“I’m waiting for someone, you need to get out before someone sees-” 

“I don’t care about Ollie, I need you so bad right now” he groaned into your neck while his hands worked to get your suit off. 

He’d never done anything so bold before. And as soon as his hands and lips were on you, you caved. He had his way with you on the massage table, doing his best to get the sweetest, and loudest, noises out of you in an effort to ward any lurkers away. 

One of said lurkers, Ollie, froze when he heard the noises coming from your room.  

His heart sank, Franco had gotten to you first.  

This time. 

You and Ollie both did terribly on sunday. You weren’t expecting a podium, but some points would have been nice. And Ollie DNF’d thanks to one of the Alpines (in his mind he blamed Franco, even though the Argentine wasn’t even in a car) crashing into him in turn 2. 

So you and him did the only thing you knew would lift your spirits. You went out drinking. 

You ended up in some club, and you knew Yuki and Pierre were there as well. 

You drank, and danced with the three men. Forgetting your worries for a night. You hadn’t had that much fun in a while, Yuki and Pierre were absolutely unhinged when you got a bit of alcohol down them. 

Ollie stuck by your side the whole night, and eventually your mind went back to the FP3 session. 

You dragged him outside to talk (the club was stifling, and loud as fuck), and he wondered briefly if there was something wrong because of the haste with which you’d grabbed him. 

“Ollie, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday. I got... distracted”  a blush crept over your cheeks. 

Ollie found it adorable. 

“That’s okay” he pulled you into a drunken hug “At least you were making so much noise there was no chance of me walking in on you” 

You giggled shyly, nuzzling into his chest.  

“Oh my god... that’s so embarrassing” 

“Well, I suppose that was Franco’s way of staking his claim” there was an undertone of something almost bitter in the way he said his name. 

That was a very odd thing to say. Why would Franco even need to stake a claim? Unless... 

“Let’s go inside, I’m cold” you muttered, and Ollie led you back to the booth where Pierre and Yuki were arguing over whether Mijiu or Baijiu tasted better. 

You had no idea what either of them were, so you ordered a round of both for everyone to do a taste test. 

They were both awful in your opinion, so you ordered a round of shots of tequila to wash them down. 

It didn't take long before all of you made your way to the dance floor, inhibitions completely obliterated. 

In the back of your mind, you had a plan. Granted you were on the edge of blackout drunk, but it still made sense to you. 

When the song changed to something a bit slower and more... sensual, you shuffled closer to Ollie.  

If Franco had been trying to stop Ollie from talking to you, there had to be a reason, right? 

So you moved to the beat, rolling your hips enticingly as you sang along to the words. 

Ollie lifted an eyebrow in question, his lips curving into a drunken smirk. 

You bit your lip and got closer, hooking your fingers into his belt loops to pull him in. 

He got into the rhythm very quickly, and slid a hand around your lower back to hold you close while you danced. 

The tension was palpable, but the chemistry was undeniable as you moved in sync, rolling your hips to the heavy bass pumping through the speakers. 

Your faces were inches apart, separated only by your mingling breaths, and the rapidly dwindling amount of restraint you two had. 

“Kiss mee” you slurred, smiling up at him. You needed to know whether he wanted you as much as you wanted him. As if the way you were grinding on each other wasn’t enough. 

“What?!” 

“Kiss me!” you said, louder. 

His mouth opened, hesitation written all over his face, but he glanced down at your lips. 

Between the alcohol and the noise of the club, it was impossible to hear anything, so you mistook his hesitation for misunderstanding. 

You decided to get your point across by curling a hand into his hair and pulling him down to crash your lips together. 

He quickly got over the shock of it and cupped your face with his hands to deepen the kiss. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there making out, but it was long enough for Yuki to come and tell you that he and Pierre were leaving and that you could all share an uber if you wanted. 

The miniscule part of your brain that was still rational decided that you and Ollie should go with them, so you did. 

You had what you wanted anyway. Confirmation that you had two boys that wanted you. 

Japan is where you realised just how badly. 

You didn’t know about their arguments over the weekend, you just knew that Franco was trying to have sex with you every minute of every day, and that Ollie had a smug smirk on his face constantly. 

It was unnerving, really. 

On sunday morning, your team made you aware that pictures were circulating, of two blurry figures kissing in a club in China, next to two people who looked suspiciously like Pierre and Yuki. 

It was impossible to confirm who the people kissing were so you had nothing to worry about, but your PR manager asked you to please, for the love of god, be more careful. 

The race came and went, and you and Ollie both finished in the points. 

Yuki was taking Pierre to a karaoke bar that night, and in true Yuki fashion, invited you, Ollie, and Franco. 

The little shit- stirrer. And of course you knew the idea was probably a Yuki-Pierre collaboration. 

It was a bit awkward at first, both Ollie and Franco were trying to get your attention under the table with wandering hands, but you quickly shut that down. 

You and Pierre were up. You were singing a duet version of ‘My Way’ but Pierre sang his parts in french. It was hilarious. 

Yuki jumped onto the table and joined in within seconds. 

You were so into it that you didn’t notice Ollie and Franco slip out.  

Until the song finished and you looked down to see that the leather seats were unoccupied.  

You decided to go and look for them, and it didn't take you long to find them. 

The shouting could be heard as soon as you shut the door to the private room. 

You followed the voices all the way to the men's toilets, in which the two were arguing. 

You pushed the door open and couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of you. 

Ollie had Franco in what seemed to be an attempt at a headlock, but while one of his arms was around Franco's throat, the other was pinned under Franco's weight against the wall. 

“Oi!” you hollered at them and they immediately let each other go, attempting to straighten themselves out. 

Ollie had a swollen lip and Franco looked like he'd had an altercation with a plug socket. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

“Nothing” “He started it!” “He said-“ 

“I don't care!” you shouted “get your asses back in there and behave!” 

You pointed towards the room sternly, and they quickly shuffled down the corridor with their tails between their legs. 

You managed to finish the karaoke without another incident, but you could feel the tension between them. 

The walls were closing in. It was becoming all too real to you all of a sudden. They both wanted you, and you didn’t want to choose, but you couldn’t exactly let them keep tearing each other to shreds over you. 

Shit hit the fan in Bahrain. 

They were behaving like animals. 

You couldn't speak to either of them without the other one getting jealous and pissing you off. 

Ollie didn't do FP1 because Haas had gave his car to a rookie for the session, which meant that both he and Franco were in the paddock during the session. Unsupervised. 

It came as a shock to everyone but you when they started openly brawling. 

You'd just got out of the car, and were getting weighed when you heard the commotion. 

“DON'T YOU DARE!”  

Crash. 

“MOTHERF-“ 

“YOU TWO STOP I-  OW!” 

You ran towards the two dickheads. Who were fighting in your garage. 

These two could not fight to save their lives. It was the stupidest brawl you'd ever seen. 

Your mechanics sort were hesitant to intervene, sort of standing around ready to step in as soon as there was any risk of them doing actual damage to each other. 

You didn't know who threw the first punch. You didn't care. 

The adrenaline was coursing through you so you went straight in, pushing the two struggling men down to the ground to destabilize them, then grabbed the shirt of the first one you could get your hands on. 

Which happened to be Franco. 

Someone next to you shouted “Yeah! Get your boyfriend!” 

“He is not my boyfriend, fuck off!” you shouted back. 

Your words had different effects. Franco’s heart broke a little, despite it being true, and Ollie now knew he had an undeniable chance. 

And everyone around you went “ouch” 

You dragged Franco away and threw him to the side, allowing Ollie to get back up and lunge at him. 

You blocked him, and slapped him, hard. 

You turned around and slapped Franco even harder. 

“Out of my garage, now!” you spat at them. 

They looked like they wanted to argue but you didn't even give them the chance. 

“I said, OUT!” you bellowed, and they looked at the crowd sheepishly before making their way out, in opposite directions. 

You didn't even entertain the small mass of people that were staring at you. You strutted to the back of the garage and made your way through the corridors to find a quiet place to think. 

You thought things couldn't get any worse, but of course, you quickly found out that a camera had wormed its way into the crowd and had broadcasted live the moment where you intervened and shouted at the person (who turned out to be Ted Kravitz) to ‘fuck off’. 

You were in your hotel room, looking through tweets about the footage, when a message popped up on your screen. 

“I'm sorry about earlier, can we talk?” 

It was Franco. 

“No” 

You left every subsequent message on read. 

About 10 minutes later a knock at the door interrupted you once again. 

It was probably your PR manager, coming to give you the 7th speech of the day about how “for the record, this is not what I meant when I told you to be more careful!” 

You looked through the peep hole and cursed loudly. 

It was Oliver fucking Bearman. 

You wrenched the door open. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? If anyone on my team sees you here we are both dead!” 

You dragged him inside and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“I wanted to come and explain-“ 

“No!” you whisper-yelled “There is nothing to explain! You and Franco have humiliated me, and yourselves today!” 

“But-“  

“There is no ‘but'! This shit stops now, I can't have my name dragged through the mud because you two wankstains decided it was a good idea to start fighting in my garage! Do you realise how that looks?” 

He looked at you guiltily and hung his head in shame. He looked almost small while sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning! Because the truth is I like you both and I don't want to-“ 

You were interrupted by another knock at the door. 

Oh hell no. 

You stormed over to the door and wrenched it open again, revealing Franco in gray sweats and a dark hoodie. 

His attire told you everything you needed to know about his intentions right now. 

“Go away!” you hissed. “I told you I didn't want to talk” 

Franco glanced at Ollie still sitting on the bed and frowned. 

“So I am not allowed to be here but you invited him? That is not fair” 

“Oh for god's sake!” 

You dragged him inside, like you did Ollie, and motioned for him to sit on the bed. 

“You two are idiots!” You hissed. “What was that, today?” 

“We both wanted to go to your driver’s room to talk to you” 

“Yeah? And then you started fucking fighting!” 

“Because we love you!” 

“I can fucking see that, dipshit” you flicked Ollie's forehead “And thanks to you every motherfucker who watches Formula One also saw it, because you fought on live fucking television!” 

Ollie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and Franco stared at the floor. 

And as if the universe hadn't punished you enough. Another knock rattled against the door. 

You turned around and watched in horror as your PR manager let herself in, and upon seeing the two men on the bed, stared daggers at them. 

“You two just don't know when to quit do you?” 

“I'm sorry about this, I didn't know either of them were coming they just turned up” you muttered. 

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well at least this all seems a bit more mature than whatever the fuck happened in the garage earlier” 

She turned to you. “I've smoothed it over for you, given that you'd just come out of the car, and according to the footage you actually stopped the fight, so you won't be getting any fines or penalties. Although I would refrain from telling any Skysports presenters to fuck off anytime soon. No matter how much they deserve it” 

She turned to the other two. “I however do not have the power to save either of you, so my guess is you will be informed by your teams of any fines you may be getting.” 

She eyed you all sadly. 

“Please sort your shit out. What you do, or do not do behind closed doors is none of my business, but please stop being idiots in public, it makes my job so much harder, and I am not paid extra.” 

The two drivers had the decency to look ashamed as they apologised to her. 

“On that note, I wish you all good night, and please don't break any furniture” 

And with that she smiled softly and left, leaving the three of you in silence. 

“You heard the woman” you sat on the chair next to the bed and crossed your arms defiantly “Let's sort it out.” 

They looked at each other helplessly and you rolled your eyes.  

“Come on, what do you want?” 

Franco piped up first. 

“I want you. All of you. I have been in love with you for months but I’ve been a coward…” 

You nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his confession. 

You looked at Ollie. 

“I was planning on asking you out. But I got jealous when I found out you were with Franco… and then I uhhh… kind of made it into a competition. Trying to get you to like me back before Franco had the guts to tell you.” 

You hummed, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What about you?” Franco asked. “What do you want?” 

“I uhh…” you were almost intimidated by the two men staring at you. “Well… I like you both, so… either you can learn to share, or neither of you can have me” 

They looked at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation as they glanced back and forth between you and each other. 

The fact that they seemed to be entertaining the idea of sharing you was doing funny things to your brain. 

You imagined having them both at your mercy. Then your mind wandered to all the possibilities. 

The image of them making out briefly flashed in your mind.  

The butterflies returned to your stomach and you let your mind wander even further, Franco on his knees for Ollie.  

A voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” Franco asked, and you stared at his lips. They would look so perfect wrapped around- 

“Yeah, you look a bit flustered” Ollie chuckled. “What are you thinking about?” 

You bit your lip. 

“The two of you. Together.” 

A small blush crept up their necks and they squirmed uncomfortably. 

“We can share” Franco muttered, eyes darkening slightly. 

“Good” you smiled, standing up and slowly making your way towards them. “I want you both naked in the next 15 seconds…” 

They glanced at each other with wide eyes before hurriedly taking their clothes off. 

Once they were fully bare, they looked up at you expectantly. 

You grinned and swiftly sat down in between them. 

You pulled Franco in for a kiss, hands inching their way up the two men's thighs. 

You could feel Ollie's gaze on you so you turned your head and smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. 

One of your hands went to touch Ollie's cock, which was half hard, and your other was met with Franco's hand, that he had already wrapped around himself while watching you make out with Ollie. 

You swapped again, Ollie's cock hardening at your touch, and at the sight of Franco pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

Then Ollie's turn came again, and he was fully hard by now, so you swept your thumb over his tip to make his hips twitch. 

You then stopped touching them altogether and leaned back on your elbows on the bed. 

“Now you two” you smirked. 

They looked at each other breathlessly, blush high on their cheeks and eyes lidded. 

They were hesitant, Ollie's hand weaved its way into Franco's hair to pull him in.  

It started out chaste, but still, the sight of it was truly something. 

You wriggled out from in between them and they looked at you in question. 

“Gonna lock the door” you muttered, jogging over to it. 

You heard a muffled “good idea” and turned to see them back at it, and this time with gusto. 

Their eyes were closed, so you undressed silently and climbed back on the bed. 

Ollie gasped into the kiss when Franco's hand made its way around his cock, squeezing gently before setting a slow, almost teasing pace. 

Franco trailed kisses along his jaw, making his way down Ollie’s chest, and the latter looked at you. 

His eyebrows jumped when he saw your state of undress. And went even higher when he noticed you were touching yourself. 

But it was quickly wiped from his mind when Franco’s lips suddenly made contact with his tip. 

He gasped, head whipping down to look at where Franco was kissing up and down his length.  

One of his hands once again found itself weaved into Franco's dark locks when the absolute tease decided to lick his cock from base to tip, while staring straight up at him through his lashes. 

“Jesus” he muttered “You've done this before haven't you?” 

Franco just winked, and took his cock halfway down into his mouth and sucked. 

The two of them looked ethereal, Ollie gasping for air while Franco sucked him down as far as he could go. 

Apparently Franco was doing something with his tongue, because Ollie kept throwing his head back and hissing. 

“Fuck- I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that.” 

Franco pulled off with a pop and smirked at him, pulling him in for another sloppy makeout. 

You were sitting there, two fingers deep inside yourself, and they were completely ignoring you. 

The irony of the situation made you scoff. 

“Guys… is either of you going to fuck me or…?” 

Ollie laughed and Franco started crawling up the bed towards you. 

“It would be my pleasure” he smiled. 

Ollie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Actually, I think you have fucked her enough, it's my turn now” 

He crawled up to you, and kissed you sweetly, pulling your hand away from your cunt and replacing it with his own. 

“God, watching us got you this excited?” 

You nodded shyly. “You two look really fucking hot together” 

He laughed, gummy smile making a brief appearance as he lined himself up, sliding his tip up and down your folds to tease you. 

“You ready?”  

“Of course” 

He slid home in one gentle thrust, and you moaned into his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. 

Franco came to kneel next to your head and waited for you to take a breather before asking you to open your mouth for him. 

He slapped his cock against your tongue teasingly, and the wet noise caught Ollie's attention, who had been mouthing at your tits absentmindedly. 

Franco fucked you mouth in earnest, and when he noticed the pther man looking at him heatedly, leaned over to capture his lips in a bruising kiss... 

It was all over far too quickly, but the exciting novelty of the situation had gotten to them and they came together with a muffled whine. 

You then made them clean you up with their tongues, and the sight of both of their faces between your legs, taking turns lapping up your juices, just felt right. 

If they could share, and not be too obvious about it, then the rest of the season should be a breeze. 

You sent your PR manager a hefty check, with a note. 

“Thank you for putting up with our shit. It's been sorted <3” 

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 3: Pinned Down

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

y/n_rb

liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, and 1,231,245 others

y/n_rb: let’s do it babes! One last race before summer break!

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user1: getting a dose of Senioritis here?

↳y/n_rb: NO! In fact I’m counting down the days till I can get BACK into the car again and break hasn’t even started!

↳y/n_rb: and stop calling me old!!

maxverstappen1: Show them how it’s done!

↳y/n_rb: oh you know it!

redbullracing: get it girl!

↳y/n_rb: 🏆🏆🏆🏆 getting it!

↳y/n_rb: ^^^ all my trophies thank you

↳user2: yeah!!! Show them them at you’ve been getting it already!

↳y/n_rb: 👈🏻😎👉🏻

logansargeant: one last weekend before I get a break from seeing you? Thank you 🙏

↳y/n_rb: you’d think right?

↳logansargeant: …what do you mean?

↳y/n_rb: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

↳logansargeant: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN??

↳user3: so slay of her to menace everyone liked by y/n_rb

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡Lo harás genial, chico! you'll do great, kid!

↳user4: isn’t it so nice seeing 2 rookies get along?

↳user5: there’s no way that old man is a rookie???

↳y/n_rb: YOU TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S A ROOKIE!

↳y/n_rb: Mr. Fernando sir of course. I’ll do you proud 🫡

↳fernandoalo_oficial: ¿Sabes que puedes llamarme solo Fernando? you know you can call me just Fernando?

↳y/n_rb: I don’t think you understand how much I can’t do that. Thanks 😊

↳user6: wait you speak Spanish? I just realized

↳y/n_rb: while you were busy goofing off, I studied the blade (Mr. Fernando)

↳user6: iconic actually

f1

liked by user, user, user, and 2,234,123 others

tagged: y/n_rb, lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial

f1: and that’s contact. y/n_rb was pinned down between the wall and lewishamilton who himself was boxed in by fernandoalo_oficial. This marks the end of the race for y/n_rb. No contact has been made from y/n_rb yet.

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user7: Jesus…

↳user8: I hope she’s ok. That crash was bad, bad

user9: it’s been almost 2 minutes and they still don’t have word from her…

↳user10: the marshals are booking it to her

↳user11: why did it take so long????? She slammed into that wall so hard

user12: air support has apparently been called for

↳user13: it’s that bad?

↳user12: her car is all over the track and she STILL hasn’t responded

↳user14: they’ve called the race for it

↳user15: good god finally

user16: this is either gonna be the best day of her life or the worst

↳user17: we don’t even know if she’s ok?

↳user16: she crashed with Lewis Hamilton and Fernando Alonso though

↳user17: …ok you might be on to something

↳user18: let’s be real — she’d probably comment something like “my fav threesome”

↳user16: 😂

↳user17: that does seem like her

user20: it’s been a couple of hours — is there still no word?

↳user21: logansargeant posted something. Apparently he’s at a hospital — I’m assuming it’s for her

logansargeant

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 1,928,333 others

tagged: y/n_rb

logansargeant: still no news but I’ve been told that’s a good thing?

view all comments

user22: keeping y/n_rb in our thoughts!

lewishamilton: where?

↳logansargeant: check the group chat — I’ve sent the location

↳lewishamilton: on my way

↳fernandoalo_oficial: mismo same

user23: thanks for the update Logan!

oscarpiastri: need anything before I come?

↳logansargeant: my bag?

↳oscarpiastri: 👍🏻. Food?

↳logansargeant: shockingly good here

francisca.cgomes: dis-moi — est-ce que mon amour va vraiment bien? tell me — is my love really ok?

↳logansargeant: as y/n would say — babe you’ll be the first person I text (when I finally can)

↳pierregasly: are you…are you helping y/n steal my girlfriend? (Merci de nous tenir au courant. Thanks for keeping us in the loop.)

↳logansargeant: (channeling y/n) our girlfriend Frenchie 🤝

↳francisca.cgomes: ma chérie…

↳pierregasly: 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: leo is ready and waiting to give healing kisses when able too

↳logansargeant: careful there — she might try to steal your dog

↳pierregasly: she might try to steal your girlfriend too

↳charles_leclerc: …noted

↳alexandrasaintmleux: oh? 🤨

↳charles_leclerc: nothing to see here

maxverstappen1: Tell y/n_rb that Jimmy and Sassy (the #1 pets) are waiting for her back in Monaco 🇲🇨

↳charles_leclerc: Siri how do you say “you’re wrong” in Dutch?

↳maxverstappen1: Wouldn’t know — never been wrong before?

↳maxverstappen1: You can tell her in French though

↳user24: unconscious and still able to cause mischief…

↳user24: i think i wanna be here when i grow up!

↳maxverstappen1: No

↳charles_leclerc: non

↳pierregasly: un seul suffit

↳logansargeant: there are so many better role models out there

↳oscarpiastri: please don’t

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@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @voidvannie @justaf1girl

[takuma-talkz]

Boyfriend’s Wrath

pairing: Daisuke Juarez x Fem!reader

requested: no

A/N: Inspired by Lockless on ao3 <3

warnings: Jimmy, r@pe

divider creds: @dollywons

Your alarm rang. You groaned as you arose from your bunk. 

It was time to give Curly his pills. 

Your “captain” Jimmy ordered that Curly be given pain medication twice a workday. He decided you would give Curly his medicine at night and Anya would during the day.

You rubbed your eyes as you made your way to the med bay, passing by Daisuke’s room. You stopped and admired the door. Silly little Gen-Z memes written all over the door, that only you and Daisuke would understand. 

“What the hell is Deez Nuts?” You remember Swansea asking one day, you and Daisuke laughed so hard that you spent the rest of the day in the med bay due to the cramping in your bellies.

You and Daisuke were always together. You were both young and boarded the Tulpar at the same time. Except, he was here on an internship and you were hired as a janitor. 

You both clicked instantly, quickly developing a crush on him. Eventually, you told him how you felt and he returned your feelings.

Finally, making it to the med bay and inputting the entry code. 

“Morning, captain.” You call out to Curly. It was routine. You would greet Curly with a good morning and he would respond with a dry groan.

Except this time, a different voice responded.

“Mornin’”

It was Jimmy’s voice.

You pulled down to the floor before you could get the chance to scream, his sweaty, gross hand covered your mouth. 

“Scream and I’ll fucking kill that little boy toy of yours.”

You whimpered and pushed against him when his free hand wandered lower. He removed his hand covering your mouth and slapped your right cheek.

The force of the slap turned your head to face Curly. He had a sad look in his eyes. He was flailing around like he wanted to stand up and free you from Jimmy.

It lasted too long. When he finally pulled away from you, you couldn’t recognize yourself. 

You were so disgusted with yourself. You slowly stood up and looked at Curly.

“Sorry, you had to see that, Captain…” He tries to reach out to you, but it doesn’t work.

You get redressed and give Curly his medicine. Then you slowly walk away from the med bay. You wander until you reach your room.

But you stop.

If you go back to sleep now, that shows Jimmy that there are no consequences for what he has done to you.

You make your way to the utility room, where Swansea and Daisuke should still be up. You eventually reached the room, hands shakily knocking on the utility room.

Daisuke opens the door. “Hey, babe!” You’re quickly pulled in by Daisuke. He smiles at you but pauses.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, kiddo. What’s the matter?” Swansea spoke from the desk.

You broke down so easily. Daisuke cradles you into his chest. His warmth is calming, so when you relax a little, you tell them everything.

“I woke up to give Curly his medicine, but Jimmy cornered me in the med bay…he pushed me down and he” you feel Daisuke’s grip on your shoulders tighten.

“He ra-“ You were cut off.

“No need to say it, kid.” Swansea’s voice sounded calm, but you can hear the broiling rage in his voice. 

“Daisu-“

“Got it.” His touch on your body was firm but gentle. His voice, however, harbored an intense foreign edge in it. He led you to his room.

You lay down and looked into his eyes. “Daisuke, hold me.”

He smiled tightly. He laid down next to you, arm around your waist. 

Daisuke locked his room door. Since he slept in a used storage room, his room had a lock to it. You would be safe in his room. 

He made his way over to Jimmy. No way he would let Jimmy defile you, his amazing, beautiful girlfriend, and let him think he can get away with it.

After note: ew jimmy

[admirationandromantics]

As You Wish

Another request! Trying to keep up writing while doing school work, but this is the best I can do at the moment, lol. I have to say, this one does contain spoilers for one of my favourite movies The Princess Bride. Basically, you and Chris watch it together. Anyway, hope you like this.

Word count: 2,5k (unedited)

im evil and wanna give you this prompt real bad wether you write it or NOT Chris and reader- bonding over loving princess bride and watching it together. Flirting the whole time like "lol that's so us" "i know right.." leading to.. "as you wish" being said right before he absolutely RAVISHES THE SHIT OUT OF YOUUU -@brwnbnny

I grab the bowl, putting the popcorn in it while Chris gets the glasses. He puts the ice cubes in them, before taking the bottle as well and moving everything to the living room. I finish up before following him. He’s already sitting down on the couch, clicking on the controller to find the movie. I walk up to him, putting the snacks on the table. 

“So, have you seen it before?” I ask, sitting down beside him. 

“I actually have” he smiles, looking over at me. I give him a surprised look, after all, he doesn’t strike me as the type to have seen these types of films. 

“You’ve actually seen The Princess Bride?”

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head a bit before meeting my confused gaze. 

“I have, hard to believe?” 

“A little. When did you see it?”

“Long time ago, come on, lets just watch” He smiles, leaning back, hand laid on the back of the couch, arm crooked open for me. I shrug, letting it go. We could talk about that later. I lean back, head nuzzled against his shoulder, legs plaid over him. 

He starts the movie, and since it’s not the first time watching for either of us, we keep talking during it. I watched intently in the start, loving the “As you wish”-parts, but eventually, his babbling won me over, making me join in on the discussion. 

“She’s literally treating him like horseshit” He says, taking another bite of the popcorn. I roll my eyes at him. 

“Character development, Chris” 

“She falls in love with him because he does everything she asks without complaint” 

“And you don’t?”

“No, I- ohhh…” 

“That’s what I thought” I laugh, kissing his cheek. He shakes his head, hand going to my neck, pulling me in for a real kiss. We don’t pause the movie, and when he pulls away, he looks me up and down, breath hot and heavy. 

“You love me because of more than that though?” he whispers, a small smirk playing on the edge of his mouth. I smile, biting my lip. 

“You know I do, Handsome” 

We continue watching, after several times having told him that nothing will happen until the movie is done. Of course he talks during the fight scenes, especially when they’re fencing. 

“Oh, imagine me with a sword!” he exclaims. 

“And now, imagine me with it” I smile, looking over at him. 

“That’s hot, but honestly, I don’t think you would’ve managed to lift it” 

I punch him in the arm, making him act jokingly offended and hurt. I shake my head before turning back to the screen again. The man in black is at the last test, picking which cup to drink from. 

“I actually don’t remember how he did this” Chris admits, leaning back and watching curiously. I keep shifting my gaze between him and the screen, watching his reactions. 

“Oh my god, can this guy just pick already?” He asks impatiently, sighing. I shake my head, putting my hand on his thigh, knowing he’ll soon remember the answer to the test. 

“Ohhhh, they were both poison…” 

Finally, the guy has gotten to the princess, and I take hold of Chris’s hand, knowing what’s to come. As the character bicker, I look over at him, his mouth finally shut while he watches the screen intently, fully entranced with their fight. 

“It’s him! Come on!” He yells, of course remembering the twist. 

“And she throws herself down after him? Oh my god…” 

“It’s romantic!” I argue. 

“It’s insane” 

“I would throw myself down a hill for you” I smile, and his demeanour instantly changes. 

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really” I laugh, leaning over, a playful smirk on my lips. His hand goes to my waist, pulling me closer. My breathing gets heavier, but he interrupts my protest to watch the movie. 

“Or maybe I could throw you somewhere else…” He whispers, lips ghosting over mine, his hot breath on my chin. I lean forward, kissing him quickly before pulling away. 

“You know, we never do pay attention to the movies we watch together” 

“Yeah, it’s a lost cause” He smiles, leaning over me, grabbing my thigh. My finger goes to his mouth, signalling for him to stop. 

“But this is the exception, because I love this movie” I state. His mouth opens, capturing my finger between his teeth, tongue making contact with it. 

“Christopher!” 

“Okay, okay! We’ll finish the movie” 

I laugh as we sit back up again, easily noticing the bulge in his pants and the small flush on his cheeks. Oh god, he’s adorable like that. I bite my lip, making sure not to rile him up more, knowing he’s not going to be able to contain himself. 

“We’re not going to survive!”  “Nonsense, you’re only saying that because no one ever has”

I look over at Chris, but his head is already turned to me, knowing what I’m about to say. 

“You know… That’s something you would say”

“I probably would”

“And the best part is that you wouldn’t mean it in a funny way, you would actually mean it” 

“Well, technically the odds are against surviving, but if no one has, then the chance is higher that you would. Let’s compare this to gambling..”

“Here we go” I sigh, putting the movie on pause to let him explain his theory. 

After he’s done, we continue watching, with the occasional input of “that's so us” or “that's something you would do/say”. I lay myself on top of him, nuzzling into his neck, the popcorn on his lap. As the princess comes on screen again, wearing a long light blue medieval dress, I point. 

“That’s my favorite outfit in the movie” I whisper, hand lowering into the bowl, taking a few pieces of popcorn. He hums, studying the outfit. 

“It’s pretty, you would look great in that” 

I let out a small laugh, turning my head to look up at him. 

“Are you saying you want to see me in medieval wear?”

“Haven’t you talked about seeing me as a knight before? This is the same” He defends. I force my attention back to the movie, now imagining him in armour. Fuck, this couch is going to get water damage if I keep thinking of him like that. 

We both watch intently as the princess about to kill herself, a dagger to her chest. And then, Westley interrupts her. 

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in the world, it’d be a pity to damage yours” 

I bite my lips to stop myself from bursting out laughing, the heartfelt moment when she realises she’s alive goes right over both of our heads. 

“That is something I would say” Chris admits, and I give him a small nudge. I look up, seeing his gaze is down on my chest. I grab his chin, tilting his face up. 

“Eyes up here” 

“Those are pretty too, but that wasn’t what I was admiring right now”

I shake my head again, leaning against him as his arm tightens around me. He doesn’t even try being subtle about looking anymore. I can’t even remember every time the others have caught him before I have, on group functions. 

The movie finally finishes. Over an hour of flirting and built up tension is released as the end credits roll, and he immediately pushes me down on the couch, body pressed firmly into mine. 

“Chris!” 

“Oh, I have waited long enough” he whispers, voice low, tone scarily firm as his hands wander over me. His fingers pay with the hem of my top, hooking then slowly moving underneath it. I already feel my body heat up, remembering all our talking and banter. He wants this so bad, and he’s been waiting for hours. So have I, panties soaked. His knee goes between my legs, letting me grind down on him. 

“Tell me, tell me what you want” he whispers against my neck, leaving soft, needy kisses from my jaw to my collar. 

“Take me… right now” 

“As you wish…”

“You don’t know what that does to me…” I whisper, arms going around his neck to pull him closer. His hand makes its way down under the hem of my pants and panties, feeling my soaked folds with his fingers. 

“Oh, I think I know” he smirks, closing the distance and meeting our lips. He dips his fingers into me, causing a loud moan to erupt from my chest. He uses the opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth, exploring every corner, and swallowing every single whimper. His thumb goes to my clit, rubbing soft circles, not too hard, but so soft that I push myself into him, craving more. 

“You’re desperate” He chuckles, noses brushing against each other. 

“For you? Of course I am” 

He lets out a low groan from my honest reply, the words sinking in, making him realise that the teasing would have to end. I know he wants me badly, we both do, so he might as well just give in. The fingers inside me hurriedly move out, making me feel empty and needy. 

Luckily for me, he doesn’t waste time, pulling off his shirt in a swift motion before working on me. I help him, sitting up as he drags my top over my head, revealing my chest. 

“You were not wearing a bra this entire time?” 

“No” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” He smiles, leaning over me again, groping one of my breasts harshly, taking me by surprise. 

“Fuck, Chris! Y-you seemed like you were already struggling through the whole movie” I whimper, throwing my head back on the couch. My legs go around his torso, pulling his pelvis into mine, our pants still in the way. 

“How considerate of you… Now, let me return the good deed” 

He sits up again, both hands going to my hips, grabbing the hem of my pants before dragging them off and throwing the piece on the floor. Body leaning down over mine again, he takes in the sight of my soaked underwear, hands caressing my inner thighs. Fingers slowly moving upwards in an almost ghostly manner, making a cold shiver run down my spine as I let out a needy sigh. He grabs my panties, and I suddenly hear a ripping sound, followed by the cold air hitting my wet heat. I look down, shocked. 

“You did NOT just rip my panties off?”

“Shut up, I’ll buy you new ones” He breathes out, seeming like he’s in a completely different headspace. 

“And judging by your reaction…” He moves his fingers over my folds again, throbbing with need. “... I just turned you on even more”

His tone is dark and husky, completely unlike his usual manner. Voice coming from the depth of his chest as he breathes heavily, as if even talking feels difficult. Without warning, he leans down, lips and tongue meeting my heat, pleasure running through me from every little touch. My thighs automatically try to close in on him, but he holds them apart with ease, groping my skin till it turns red. I don't even notice the pain of it, too obsessed with the mixed feelings coming from my whole body. 

My core builds up easily, considering he knows my body like he knows himself. Just too much. My legs give out, shaking as I finish on his lips. I try to steady my breathing, but he doesn't give me time. I didn't even notice him taking his sweatpants off. Instead of waiting, he uses the opportunity to coat himself in my juices, slowly pushing into me. 

We both give out loud moans, and he throws his head back, holding onto his base as he little by little goes deeper. Once he’s all inside, he leans over me again, brushing some strands of hair off my face before kissing me. I let him in, again trapping him with my legs around his torso, pushing him as deep as he can manage, making him hit my cervix. I gasp, the small pain being overrun by the pleasure of him on and in me. My arms go around his shoulders and neck, and he bends down his upper body, pressing us together and kissing my neck as he starts moving. 

“Fuck… you know to make me a mess” he growles, biting the skin on my jaw. 

“C-Chris…”

“Mmm, I love hearing my name like that” he whispers, his breath hot against me. I can already feel him getting hotter and sweatier, pounding into me while steadily upping his speed, almost making the whole couch move with him. 

My fingers run down his back, nails grazing his skin as I meet his lips with mine. I open my mouth, letting him in as I do the same, exploring him inside, dancing around each other. My hips buckle into him, back arched while he gropes my breast, the other hand going to hold himself up. His muscles flex as he does, making me want him even more. Blonde hair resting on his forehead, almost sticking to his skin. I bite down on his lip, making a needy moan escape him. 

He goes faster, leaning up and gripping my hips to push himself as deep as he can. His hands leave red imprints on me, matching the blue and purple suction marks and red bites. I moan with every single push. The roughness is getting to me, every pound making him hit my cervix, making me cry out in pleasure and pain. I don’t tell him to stop, I want him to do this, to take me. 

“I’m gonna…” He whimpers, unable to finish the sentence. I understand him, nodding my head as I try to keep breathing, head dizzy and body sore, but still activated from the ecstasy running through me. His thumb goes to my clit, and I grind my hips down on his finger and cock, craving the extra stimulation like I’ve never done before. 

He pushes into me one last time, thumb still rubbing my clit as we come at the same time, riding each other out. We both cry out, loud moans sharp before the deafening silence filled with our breaths. He lays on top of me, head on my chest as I wrap my hands around him, bodies sticking together from the workout. 

“So, I guess quoting your favorite movie really gets you going, huh?” He chuckles, tilting his head to look up at me. I shake my head in response, brain foggy and vision blurry. 

“Well, then you’ve got another trick up your sleeve then” I smile, ruffling his hair. He only laughs in response, grabbing my hand by my wrist and leaning over me again. He captures my lips on his, this time filled with care and comfort, the softness of it making me sigh. As our bodies slow down, the air feels colder. 

“Let's take a shower?” I offer, already getting up. 

“As you wish”

[swampthingking]

OHHHKAFGJSKADVNWRKGNSKDF the angst possibilities in this are ENDLESS --

maybe aaron wants to know the truth about how she died...maybe it's all because he assumes andrew's this cold-blooded killer... and this is another thing that is conflicting between the twins, because andrew doesn't understand why aaron wants to bring her back, and now aaron needs andrew's help to perform the spell to bring her back once he finds the gem. he can't tell andrew the real reason, though, so...hm.

aaron trying for hours to be the one to have a bit of magic left in him. andrew watching until eventually seeing aaron struggle was too much, so he frames it as him being bored and makes a snide little comment on his way out, just a subtle way of trying to discourage aaron from trying to bring her back. but he can't help but listen through the walls until aaron gives up and leaves, and he hates her just that much more for springing back into their lives even from death.

andrew's on his snoop shit, as he canonically is. he goes into aaron's room and mumbles the spell out loud and it works. aaron comes back and assumes that andrew's trying to sabotage the spell and they have a little tiff, and then half-tilda is there.

aaron tells andrew that he's going to find a new phoenix gem. andrew, of course, is like, there's no fucking way in hell you're going alone, and off they go!!!!! shenanigan ensue and regular onward plotpoints are tweaked to fit the twinyard dynamic -- perhaps they have A Laugh. these near death experiences would show aaron that he is a capable individual and he does have the ability to become something, and they show andrew that aaron is capable of handling himself. aaron saves andrew at one point and andrew is like oh well he does care kinda--he didn't let me die. etc. other things to develop their relationship.

and i know this is a twinyard au but ... kevin would be All the Fuck Over quests of yore SPECIFICALLY because of the historical accuracy. and maybe possibly perhaps he'd forced aaron to play with him. ...dungeon master kevin day my love my heart my one and only--ANYWAY this is how aaron knows enough about magic and the quest to get them to where they're going and to teach andrew to perform spells and such.

couldn't tell you why andrew would go along with this, or how aaron convinced andrew to perform these spells or what he had to tell himself to do them (for aaron's sake), but it makes sense to me that he'd be stupidly good at magic, just as he is at goalkeeping. it makes sense to me that andrew would eventually just be like, "alright. if this is what you want, i'll let you learn the hard way," and do these things kind of placatingly.

they've gotten to a good place before the Big Fight happens, a couple near death experiences to bring them closer, and then they end up right back to where they started and aaron says andrew is a screwup and its SAD OK!!! and aaron is like u fucked this up for me on purpose u knew what u were doing the entire time!!! and like in his anger admits that he was gonna ask tilda how she really died because he knows andrew did it. and andrew is like "of course i fucking did it, i told her i would if she put her hands on u again" etc etc. i don't see them making up Before the dragon fight like ian and barley did, but maybe they both realize the gem is in the fountain and andrew got there first and he gives it to aaron, kinda like "i l*ve you enough to let you make the choice" and aaron has had this big realization that andrew does love him and has done everything for him because he loves him, and yea.

and so they fight a dragon and andrew is trapped beneath the rubble watching aaron and tilda talking, and he assumes that aaron is choosing her over andrew, but then aaron comes back and says what OP said: "i told her that she's wrong about us and we're going to make something of ourselves despite her" and then i cry my eyes out.

thanks OP for putting this thought into my head, i love to Not be normal <3

oh ps all the while, nicky is frantically trying to track them down and he shows up to help them kick Dragon Ass and it's awesome

This is probably so niche but twinyards Onward AU:

Tilda is the dad except shit, obviously. Aaron is Barley, who loved her, and Andrew is Ian, who barely knew her.

Aaron wants to bring Tilda back, but Andrew is dead set against it. Aaron, of course, thinks Andrew is just being spiteful and trying to hurt him. Andrew just doesn't want seeing Tilda to hurt Aaron or undo all the progress his brother worked so hard for.

In the end, Andrew helps Aaron get his last conversation with Tilda, and Aaron tells her how wrong she was about her sons; they were going to make something of themselves, despite her.

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[clits-and-clips]

x

[saintrosalyn]

JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained. 

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor. 

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left. 

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge. 

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off. 

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator. 

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room. 

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you? 

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him. 

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life. 

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon. 

Freedom. 

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing. 

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours. 

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat. 

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient. 

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet. 

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow. 

“Yer��� wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.” 

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you. 

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either. 

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs. 

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone. 

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it. 

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard. 

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours. 

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

[jane-asmo]

Why I think Caitlyn didn’t ask Vi for forgiveness

(Thank 'anons' for your messages. I’ll try to respond to you through this text: )

The importance of Caitlyn’s “I know”

A key moment in Caitlyn’s character narrative is her “I know”—both its content and delivery.

The content: When Caitlyn says, “I know,” it doesn’t just mean “You’re right.” It means, “I’ve taken the time to think about this.” And thinking is what Caitlyn does best. Her “I know” conveys that she has already had this conversation with herself, over and over in her head. She’s thought about it constantly, she’s already told herself these things, and she’s already blamed herself for them.

The delivery: She screams it with violence, and we can see this represented by the boat falling apart. It’s not just that she has thought about it; it’s tormenting her. Her “I know” is incredibly powerful because it’s filled with suffering.

To me, this is as valid as an apology because asking for forgiveness is outward-facing—focused on the other person. "Asking for forgiveness" says, “Whether I’ve forgiven myself or not, whether I feel guilty or not, it’s on you to decide to forgive me.”

But here, Caitlyn’s “I know” is inward-facing. It means, “I’m not asking you to forgive me because I can’t even forgive myself.”

She knows everything you’re saying, and it torments her.

This is followed by:

"I didn’t even have time to think before they hauled her off."

This line is so telling. Everything about Caitlyn is tied to thinking and reflection.

Being a sniper means aiming and shooting. Aiming is the equivalent of thinking, and shooting is the equivalent of speaking. Everything Caitlyn does is deliberate and thought through.

This is why some people dislike her: as I’ve said before, unlike other characters, Caitlyn’s actions can’t be forgiven easily because she doesn’t do anything by accident.

Then we get to:

"We can’t erase our mistakes. None of us."

Caitlyn speak in “we.”

In the prison scene with Jinx:

"No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes."

This scene mirrors the rage she felt when she threw the boat. In this moment, she’s speaking to Jinx, but also to herself.

Caitlyn and Jinx are paralleled so many times throughout the show. Caitlyn quickly realized that, in some ways, she had become like Jinx. And so, in order to forgive Jinx, she would first have to forgive herself.

At this point in the episode, the person Caitlyn hates the most is herself.

But she no longer has the "energy" to hate, neither Jinx nor herself.

Energy comes from fuel. What she perceives as a lack of strength to keep fighting is simply the fact that the fuel that powered her hatred has disappeared. And when you stop feeding a fire, it eventually dies out. She has no energy left; she has no fuel to sustain her hatred.

It's a particular way of saying, I don’t hate you anymore, and I don’t want to hate myself anymore either, because in the end, that hatred corrupts us/everything .

In her own unique way, Jinx also says, I didn’t know your mother was there, even if it wouldn’t have changed anything. And this too is a strange way of taking a step toward the other.

We have two brilliant and intelligent women who express their emotions in unconventional ways. ----------

There’s also a whole analysis that could be done about her concept of justice and rules, "but I don’t have the energy" to dive into that here. Still, it would only lead back to the fact that Caitlyn doesn’t see herself as the right person to free Jinx (and therefore to forgive her) because she believes she herself is beyond forgiveness.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. thinking about true form!sukuna having a huge size kink (+ corruption kink).

word count. 2.6k

note. super self-indulgent. cant rlly blame me for creating this. also do you see those big ass hands in the header i used? yeah.. says enough (this sucks ass)

tags. dom heian era!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut. porn with plot. size kink / size difference (reader gets referred to as ‘short’ & ‘small’). p in v -> unprotected. degradation. corruption kink (reader gets referred to as ‘naive’, 'shy' & innocent’-looking). tummy bulging. loss of virginity mention. hymen breaking mention. cervix fucking, ouch. lots of teasing. tiny bit of choking. tiny mention of blood tasting ? idk. hint at anal / double penetration. dirty talk. sukuna has two of everything btw mehehe. reader get called ‘woman, brat, slut, little'.

sukuna is intrigued by you. he’s always been, since the moment he’s laid his eyes upon you. your loyalty and devotion to him are two aspects that the king of curses likes most about you. .

. . after your innocence.

it nearly irked him. every time he saw you hanging around the estate without a single care in the world. sukuna would attempt to intimidate you with serious threats. he’d loom over your short stature and look down at you with a malicious glint in his eyes. though, none of it seemed to work.

you'd only bow your head at him and apologise if you’ve caused him any possible inconveniences. it annoyed the sorcerer. you weren’t trembling in fear like all the others would — it was like there was nothing going on in that head of yours. especially when you smile at him. which no one actually dares to do.

sukuna could crush you. with no effort. one big hand would be enough to pick your entire body up, lift you in the air and throw you around like a ragdoll. you don’t seem to fear the possibility of that happening, even when being faced with a pissed off sukuna.

it’s truly intriguing and amusing. that’s why sukuna kept you around every day — as a form of entertainment, he called it. one thing led to the other and you eventually ended up as one of his concubines. the king of curses himself decided to grant you that promotion.

why? because not only does your fragile body, reserved and polite personality and innocence secretly fascinate him — it also makes him crave you. crave to shatter that naivety of yours. to take that small body of yours and make it feel what it means to be overpowered by a man twice your size.

sukuna does not regret his decision to make you his concubine. the first night you spent together was one of the best nights he had ever had. in all his many years of living. not a single woman had ever succeeded in blowing his mind when it came to sex.

it was usually boring and repetitive for the sorcerer. he felt nothing for those women he’s had in bed before — it was solely for the fact of satisfying himself. though, that changed on the day you had given him your virginity.

he remembers every detail; from your little noises of both pain and pleasure, your tight and untouched pussy that bled faintly when the fat tip of his lower cock pushed through, your nails that dug into his arms and back, your thighs that he held to your chest, his large hands that could easily wrap around the fat of them, your aching cunt that was left spasming around air as it tried to keep his sticky cum stored in place.

sukuna didn’t think your tears would affect him as much. when he took your virginity and you whimpered in pain — he did feel a twinge of guilt. it was strange; he hadn’t felt that emotion before. he had stopped and wiped your tears away. roughly whispered some words of encouragement too.

he had never done so before. never. he had never told anyone how ‘good’ they were for him. how he’d be ‘careful’ to not make it hurt any more. the king of curses recalls vividly how slow he started with you. slow sex. instead of rough like he’s used to.

sukuna wasn’t chasing after his own pleasure in that moment like he’d usually have. his main priority was to make sure the girl below him was comfortable enough to continue. you’re strange. the things you make him do, say and feel are strange. and yet. . .

it was an amazing night. the best. however sukuna was left behind with an insatiable hunger for you. more, more, more. he can’t grasp it yet; why he longs for you. for those feelings he’s suddenly capable of experiencing during intimate moments.

it’s why he calls for you every night. no other concubine was needed after you were made one. the king of curses couldn’t care less about those other women. they are boring to him.

unlike you. the one he’s sure that he won’t ever get bored of.

“you can take me so well now,” sukuna breathes out. one of his cocks was inches deep inside you, bulbous tip painfully hitting your cervix. over the past few weeks, your body had learnt to adjust to him, your pussy molded to fit the shape of his dick.

sukuna looks down at you and his cocks twitch with the urge to release already. his heavy balls clenching. your fucked out state is adorable. you seemed so.. vulnerable underneath the big man, “what a fragile little thing.”

it almost sounded condescending. degrading. especially with sukuna’s lips being curled up into a mean grin, his sharp canines showing. there was a puddle of your cum forming underneath your hips — staining the sheets that the poor servants have to clean by tomorrow morning.

“p-please, fngh, ‘s too big,” you sputter out. no matter how many times you took sukuna in, your smaller body couldn’t quite fully accommodate to the girth of him. every time he hits your deepest parts, you let out a painful whimper.

sukuna kisses his teeth, though slows his thrusts a bit. the wet sounds of his cum and yours getting pushed in and out of your cunt with each move was too addicting. what sukuna loves most is the view of the skin of your lower abdomen swelling and stretching each time he pushes forward.

“i thought you said you’d take both of my cocks today, yet it seems like you can’t even handle one,” the king of curses sighs whilst belittling you. one set of hands is holding you down by your hips, the other set is fondling your stiff nipples and circling your sensitive clit, “what a pity. a real pity.”

you almost choke on your spit as all your sensitive spots were being fondled. sukuna’s thick fingers leave no place untouched as he increases the tempo again—his cock plunging in and out of your stretched hole. the upper one was twitching, rubbing against your clit and lower abdomen.

sukuna harshly grabs your jaw and makes you look up at him after he hears you apologise for making empty promises. he seems satisfied with you staying so polite. even when he’s practically rearranging your guts. the way you talk through your soft sobs and cries is endearing. makes him grin wickedly.

“i don’t want to break my favourite little concubine yet, you see,” sukuna continues. he lets out a grunt of pleasure when your pussy clenches around his thick cock. no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you still remain as tight as the first time.

he takes in a deep breath. he’s trying his best not to pound you into the mattress. he’d fold you in half and probably break you like the fragile thing you are. he could snap you like a twig if he wasn’t careful, “. . .but you’re making it very difficult for me.”

you respond by apologising again. oh, how cute it was to see you babble and make up excuses. sukuna grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he resists the urge to go harder on you. you’re already squirming and moaning loudly just because he’s fucking you hard and deep—bruising your cervix and forcing your walls to open up to him.

“‘m sorry, wanna take both.” you hiccup and sniffle. tears ran down your cheeks from overstimulation. it felt so good yet so painful to be taken by the person you admire most. you didn’t want to displease him, so you uttered those hopeless yet needy sentences again.

sukuna stops his movements when you weakly ask him to use both of his cocks on you. he scoffs, not knowing where you gained the confidence from. he pulls out of your dripping cunt, leaving a trail of cum connecting both your genitalia.

“‘wanna take both,’ she says,” sukuna mocks you under his breath. it’s getting worse; he’s nearing the point of no return. especially with your desperate whines that were like music to his ears, “you’ll break, woman.”

two of his hands move to stroke along his lengths, smearing the mixture of body fluids all over them. his eyes glare down at your small form—already fucked out, yet aching to continue. needing the full experience for once.

you always turn from a shy girl to a complete slut whenever he has you in bed. sukuna loves it.

“i want to try at the very least,” you mutter. it’s true that you’re exhausted. you’re catching your breath now that you got the chance, tired eyes glancing up at sukuna’s enormous stature between your legs, his defined muscles and the tattoos on them glistening under the faint light of the oil lamp.

it got your pussy throbbing and clamping down around air. you felt a bit light headed and your head lolls back against the pillow, eyes glazed over as you try to seem determined. but your body was tired.

“yeah? how. . . cute,” sukuna grins. he knows you can’t. not today at least. he doesn’t mind if you aren’t capable of taking him fully since you’ve already pleased him well enough for now. though, he still can’t help but tease you—make it seem like he’s going to give you what you want, “all right. don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your eyes widen and your fingers curl around the silky bedsheets beneath you in anticipation. your heart is pounding in your chest as you watch sukuna pump his two cocks a bit faster, squeezing the base a bit, leaking some pre.

it’s all just for show.

“i’m not stopping. even if you scream.” the king of curses warns you with a dangerous glint in his eyes. you gulp at the terrifying aura sukuna was emitting. one of his tips teases your entrance whilst the other probes and circles around your anus.

he threatens you again, testing if you’ll back down, “last chance. i’m not pulling out once i’m in, do y’hear me?”

you keep being stubborn until the very last second. sukuna’s deep voice that shook you to your core was not enough to make you change your mind. you were so desperate to fulfill his every need and make sure that he was satisfied. it made you the perfect woman in his eyes.

the king of curses is completely amused. he decides to take it up a notch. he pushes his lower cock against the tight ring of muscles, pressing and nearly allowing the tip to move in. the sudden increase in pressure is torturous. you surely wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire thing.

“w-wait!” you squeal in surprise and pain. the sting you felt made you snap back into reality. it’s when you realised that maybe you needed more time and experience to take both of sukuna’s dicks. you squirm your hips away, “can’t. i can’t.. hurts too much.”

sukuna nearly rolls his eyes once you finally give in. he shakes his head with a sigh, feigning disapproval and annoyance. he pulls his entire body away from yours—a ominous shadow casted over his eyes. it makes you think that he’s pissed off at you; for being unable to please him.

you panic a little. even if you are sure sukuna wouldn’t ever hurt you. you know he favours you over the other concubines. you don’t want to lose that position.

“i’m sorry.” you apologise before the sorcerer could say anything. he lets out a sharp breath, rough hands back on your body, kneading your flesh gently yet firmly. his eyes take in the view of you trembling.

it’s unreal. you are half his size—completely vulnerable underneath him. he’d normally call people like you weak and useless. wouldn’t feel a thing for them. but your naked body below his is a sight he wishes to see every night.

it turns sukuna on so much. the fact that you are helpless and don’t complain when you’re struggling to take one of his cocks gets him going each time.

“tsk. what’d i tell you?” sukuna grumbles. he slaps his lower cock firmly against your clit. your body responds by closing your thighs together, though the king of curses pries them apart again, “stop overestimating yourself, brat.”

he isn’t actually mad. it was expected—of course you couldn’t take both at once. he didn’t even prep your other hole enough. plus you are clearly still exhausted from the previous rounds. sukuna just likes to. . . test and take advantage of your devotion to him. your obedience and desires to please him.

it’s fascinating to see you squirm and apologise in that whiny voice of yours. it makes him grin from ear to ear. and it keeps things fun.

before you could mutter excuses again, sukuna stops you by leaning in. just when you thought you’d finally get to kiss him, he goes to bite down on your bottom lip. a moan slips out of your mouth which only spurs him on to bite down harder.

you could feel the devilish smirk on sukuna against your lip. his wet tongue cleans up the tiny drop of blood that escaped the wound. he lets out a low hum in approval at the taste. delicious as always.

“now, how should i punish my little concubine for being unable to keep her word?” sukuna whispers in a serious tone. it sends shivers down your spine, his hot breath traveling from your jaw to your right ear. he slowly licks your earlobe, “what do you say? any ideas?”

the tension in the room was palpable. your heart was stammering in your throat from the proximity between the two of you. you gather the courage to answer as sukuna’s fingers curl around your neck, squeezing your throat as if forcing the answer out of you.

“i-i’ll do anything, sir.” you reply through a shaky breath. the king of curses pulls back after he’s got a response from you. your eyes meet his and that’s when you know that you’ve either greatly pleased him or have given him the chance to go all out on you.

it’s probably both.

“anything, you say?” sukuna repeats slowly. without a warning, he effortlessly flips you over on your stomach, a set of hands pulling your ass up by your hips whilst the other set holds your upper body down on the mattress.

a harsh grip on the back of your head results into you whimpering. your face was mushed into a pillow, almost leaving no place to breathe. your back is placed in the perfect arch with your plump ass facing up. it’s one of sukuna’s favourite positions to do with you — especially because it makes you seem smaller than you already are.

“heh. i’ll make you regret saying that.” sukuna chuckles. a low, evil and wicked chuckle. that’s enough to make you realise that he was not going easy on you. your submission had greatly impressed the king of curses and he's taking advantage of it. again.

what would come next could be a reward for that said submission. he’s going to fuck your brains out and make you forget about everything else except for his dick. a night you won’t ever forget as long as you live—that’s a possibility.

or perhaps you’re going to be crying and begging him to go easy on you. a punishment for not being able to keep your promise. that could also happen.

anyway, you’re about to find out which one it is.

[bbokicidal]

"I Don't Have A Girlfriend." - H.H [SKZ]

Summary : In which you go with Hyunjin to get his wisdom teeth removed.

Warnings : Hyunjin all doped up at the dentist for shits n giggles, felix/seungmin/changbin laughing at him, teasing banter, mention of binnie's bday gift from minho

"What year is it?"

"2024. Halfway through, baby." You laugh, hand coming up to the arm of the chair he lays in to rest there in case he tries to move around. And he does, sitting himself up a bit as if he's worried he's late for something.

Hyunjin huffs out a breath through his nose, turning his head to look at you. You can't deny that he looks god awful and adorable at the same time; Hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep and cheeks swollen far more than usual from the medication and procedure he'd just undergone. "How long was I asleep?"

You pull your notification tab down with the tip of your index finger to check. "They put you under about an hour and a half ago, so you were asleep for.. I don't know, twenty minutes after they were done?"

"Twenty..." His voice trails off, soft and grumbly from just waking up. His lips press together before parting again, forced open by the gauze in his mouth and cheeks. His head turns towards the door and then down to the thin blanket placed over his body. Slowly, he begins to relax back into the chair.

Your hand comes up to rest along his cheek, brushing over the skin just barely before moving to pull hair back from his face. He blinks tiredly and keeps his eyes down, focused on the way his hands move under the blanket as he tries to pull it up further towards his shoulders. "Feeling okay, bubs?"

He huffs again, sighing out in what seems like distress that he's too sleepy to truly convey. "I have to go soon."

"Go where, baby?" You chuckle, curious on where his mind was wandering as the drugs slowly wore off.

His lips smack once, twice, and he blinks open his eyes again to look at you. It's a silly sight, his head tipped down toward the blanket and face pudgy with the angle. "I have a dinner date later. With ..."

You smile. "We rescheduled our dinner date for next week, Jinnie, remember? We'll have that dinner date eventually, don't worry."

"No.."

"No?" You grin this time, giggling out when he seems to reject the dinner offer. "You don't want to go on a dinner date with your girlfriend, baby?"

A few chuckles come from the screen of your phone. You'd facetimed Felix as soon as he'd asked you to after you'd told him Hyunjin was waking up. He insisted he needed to see what his hyung would be like all doped up at the dentist. So at the present moment, Felix's left eye and Seungmin's forehead fill the screen - and you know Changbin is lingering somewhere in the background.

Hyunjin clicks his tongue before his nose crinkles in careful regret. He adjusts in the chair, tugging the blanket fully up to his chin as he hums out. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Seungmin's laugh breaks the soft silence that fills the room and Hyunjin peeks open an eye in confusion as to where it came from.

"I'm your girlfriend, Jinnie." You remind him in a playful tone, still laughing through it all. Your hand finds his under the blanket and as the words settle in, his brows crinkle together.

"Uh, no." He blinks a few times at you, lips pursing. "I have a wife waiting for me at home. You can't be my girlfriend."

Your expression falls deadpan - but it all seemed worth it when Changbin's laughter exploded from your phone speaker, mixed with the sound of Felix dropping his phone as he fell to the floor cackling and Seungmin hitting the couch cushions in amusement.

Your eyes roll and you look back to your boyfriend, amused. "Right. Forgot you were married."

His lips purse once more, tongue sliding over them slowly as he realizes they're numbed still, before his eyes slip back shut in peace. "Mhm. My wife has pink underwear, too."

"Your wife has WHAT?"

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[karinamariee]

celibate

pairing: drew starkey x fiancé!fem!reader

summary: you’re as innocent as it gets, promising celibacy. but when your boyfriend drew comes into your life, you can’t help but yearn for him.

warnings: smut w plot, mdni!!

authors note: this is my 100 follower special, plus it is such a hot idea, i love it

—————————————————————————

drew first was admired by you when you stepped in one of his acting classes, taking him by surprise. it wasn’t your face (though it was beautiful) or your body (which made him instantly hard), it was the fact that you walked into the acting classes, dressed in all pink, and you walked into there with such kindness and respect that drew immediately needed you.

it took drew months to get you to go on one date with him, it was actually fucking with his pride, but he didn’t give up. eventually, you ended up going on a romantic date with him where he brought flowers and your favorite (though you never told him, he just assumed) chocolates. how could you say no to that?

but oh, when drew kissed you for the first time, he knew he wanted forever with you. he knew he wanted to get married, to have children, to grow old together. he wanted every single flaw, insecurity, fear and pain, and he would take that and throw it all into his heart.

he had just wanted all of you.

so he asked you any question under the sun like: “what’s your favorite color?” in which you answered pink. “who’s your favorite music artist?” in which you said gracie abrams. “what’s your favorite thing about yourself?” eyes. “why do you wear pink all the time.” i love wearing pink. all those questions were answered, and he immediately knew, you knew how to not be shy, being as open as your are.

by the time three months hit, he got down on both his knees, arms wrapped around your torso, cheek on your belly, your hands in his hair, and telling you how much he loved you. your response had been what he needed: you loved him too.

by ten months, you had been able to sit in silence, enjoying each others company.

by one year and a half, you two both officially moved in with each other, finally planning your life together.

by two years and three months, he proposed to you in which your answer was yes.

everything seemed perfect, but one thing kept on flashing in drew’s mind, and oh did he feel so dirty. he always wonder what it would be like to see you naked, bent over the kitchen counter, fucking you from behind as you moaned his name. so when he did think of those thoughts, he would shake his head.

“are you a virgin, y/n?” drew got the courage to ask one night.

you turned to him, closing your clothes drawer, and you walked to him, standing on your side of the bed.

“oh,” you said, “i guess i never told you this. im celibate, which means—“

drew quickly crawled over to your side, grabbing your waist, resting his head on your belly. “i know what it means, babe. it was just a question.”

but it got harder and harder for him, having seeing you in those mini skirts and dresses, seeing you in heels, seeing you change, seeing you do anything turned him on so much he had to jerk himself off in the bathroom.

but little did he know, it was hard for you too.

—————————————————————————

“please,” you whispered, “make sure to go slow. i’ve never done this before.”

drew snorted. “don’t worry, baby. you’re gonna have the best time with this.”

you nodded as drew took his cock out of his underwear, throwing them to the side. you looked down and audibly gasped.

“it’ll fit,” said drew, “trust me.”

he slide himself inside of you very slowly. going inch by inch, listening to when you told him to go. eventually he started thrusting slowly in and out of you. you got into the rhythm of it, moaning when he was at a perfect pace.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good around my cock.”

you moaned loudly at that, pulling him closer by his buttocks. you couldn’t get rid of this feeling he was giving you. he was so good at this, so good that he threw his head back, going faster, but not that much.

“faster,” you demanded.

“fuck.”

he quickened the pace, hitting that spot that made your toes curl, your head throwing back into the pillows. you had never felt a feeling like this before.

“drew…”

“fuck i’m close.” drew said.

you moaned loudly, scratching on his back as he quickened the pace, on a mission. he repeated himself over and over again and you started whining, tears falling down your cheeks.

you came all over his cock, toes curling, never feeling like this.

“i guess you’re not celibate anymore,” said drew later that night.

you laughed, turning to him. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[poguehearted77]

Between The Lines

Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.

"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.

"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to your gullibility and you all fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.

Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.

"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."

The both of them look up to Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.

Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."

"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.

Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.

Script Summary:

Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.

"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.

They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.

"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.

"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."

Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.

"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.

"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.

"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.

"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.

The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.

You all hardly take them out before escaping.

"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.

"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."

There's silence.

A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"

"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.

"For JJ." They all agree.

"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.

End of Script*

You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.

"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.

You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.

"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.

Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.

-

It’s a Friday night—or, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldn’t be back.

After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidence—only to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.

“Drew! Oh my god, you scared me.” Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. There’s one driver still waiting downstairs.” His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.

“You sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,” you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.

“That’s the beauty of insomnia.” He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. “You can’t wake up tired if you never really sleep.”

The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:

“So where are you—” “How did you—”

You broke into quiet laughter, and Drew’s mouth twitched with amusement. “You first,” he said, giving you a slight nod.

“How did you know I hadn’t already left with the others?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his face—an emotion too quick to name—before a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.

“I did some askin' around,” he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.

“Ah,” you said with a smirk, “so you missed me?”

Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.

“You could say that,” he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.

The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drew’s shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.

Drew didn’t dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.

When you arrived, he sprang into action. “C’mon, we don’t have time to waste,” he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.

You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everything—tickets, baggage check, even navigating customs—with practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasn’t just organized; he was determined.

“Do you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?” you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.

He shot you a look, his lips twitching. “I'm not a huge fan of being late,” was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.

Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.

“I was starting to think you two wouldn’t make it,” she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.

“Drew made sure that didn’t happen,” you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldn’t quite suppress.

From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didn’t know what you’d said, but it didn’t matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.

As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.

And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulder—or wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,

[m0llygunn]

a job well done (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: long-term admirer, recent tutor — you find out eddie's failing gym. in an ode to help him, your expertise expands beyond just textbooks — to your fortune, he teaches you something you've been dying to learn too

contents: 18+, smut!!!, porn with plot, lots of ball action <3, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), pet names and praise (baby, good girl), somewhat-inexperienced!eddie, tutor!reader an: i made an $8k mistake irl so heres 8k words that i wrote to forget about it (just kidding (not abt the mistake, that's very real) i started writing this in july 2023 but recently rewrote most of it to make it into a big ol' one shot-ish thing) wc: 8.5k

“You’re failing gym?” you gasp, jaw dropping as your eyes scan over his report.

“No!” he replies, trying to steal the envelope and its contents from your hands. You turn your body just in time for him to grasp at nothing but air. 

You started tutoring Eddie about a month into the semester. He’s been a willing participant for the most part and that’s why when he kept coming up with excuse after excuse for why he didn’t have his midterm report you knew something was up. 

You took it upon yourself to do some investigating. Nothing invasive, just when you got to his place for a regular tutoring session, you decided to look through his bag while he was in the bathroom. On his bedroom floor, filing through the bags endless messy contents, you eventually came across the familiarly coloured yellow envelope and helped yourself to a peek at what he was keeping a secret from you. 

Mere moments later, he was back. He immediately noticed what you had in your hands and crashed to the floor trying to get it away from you. Evidently, a failed attempt. 

“You have a — oh god, not just a D, a D minus, Eddie.” 

“That’s not failing,” he mumbles under his breath. You wave him off before dropping his report to the floor in front of you. He grabs it, crumples it into a ball, and petulantly tosses it to the other side of his room. 

“You never even told me you were taking gym.”

“Cause how’re you supposed to help with gym?”

“The tests! There’s a whole health portion, I could’ve been helping you with that,” you say, getting worked up over it. Eddie’s been doing so well, this was truly blindsiding.

“Yeah… cause I really want help from you with the health portion,” he grumbles sarcastically. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like it means,” he shrugs. 

If you weren’t paying attention, you might think he was angry — maybe even being mean. Luckily, you’re always paying attention to Eddie Munson, and you see the way his face flushes to a bright, crimson red. His annoyance is actually just embarrassment — which is good — at least he has some level of remorse for his failing grade. You can work with that. You take a breath, exhaling it slowly, forcing yourself to calm down. 

“Show me what you’re working on.”

“No,” he shakes his head, reaching into his bag, shuffling around some papers before tossing a heavy textbook your way. “Let’s just do math.”

“No, you have a B minus in math now, that doesn’t need help. You need help in gym.” you reply, tossing the textbook back at him. 

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you do.”

Sitting up to your knees, you reach into his bag once more, taking out his binder and dropping it to the floor in a pointed thump. He mumbles some kind of disagreement, spine going stiff with his hesitancy to let you go through his stuff some more, but he doesn’t make any attempts to physically stop you. 

You flip through the disorganization that you’ve told him countless times to organize until you come across a diagram of a penis and a vagina. Bingo.

“Told you,” he mumbles, scoffing to himself. 

“Told me what?”

“Why would you want to help me study that?” 

“Uh— cause it’s part of your class and I don’t want you to fail,” you say matter of factly. “Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.” 

Bright red continues to flourish across his skin, affecting the apples of his cheeks all the way down to his throat. He turns bashful, eyes locking down on the carpet. 

Eddie’s shy — not often, but he is. You wouldn’t think so from the way he acts at school and in most public atmospheres, but get him in a room, one-on-one, and he’s all blushed cheeks and shy touches. It’s sweet and it’s one of your favourite things about him — but you don’t have time for sweet shyness right now. He’s failing gym for christ sake — gym.

“So, how do you want to do this?” you ask, slapping your hands to your thighs. Eddie startles, jolting before his wide eyes find yours. 

“Do what?”

“Study this,” you motion to the diagram on the floor separating the two of you.

“I— I’m not… we’re not—“

His eye contact goes rogue again, diverting anywhere else — everywhere else that isn’t you. Shy, shy, shy. Too shy. More shy than normal. And you have an inkling that it has to do with the subject of the conversation at hand. 

“Oh my god, Eddie. This is basic human anatomy. I think we’re grown up enough to handle a little penis and vagina,” you state, tacking on a laugh. 

You get a hint of Eddie's true personality beyond his shyness — it emerges through a quirk of his lip, the corner of it tweaking upwards into the hint of a smirk. 

“A little penis?” He parrots, his smirk fully emerging now. This boy.

“Cue cards? Should we do cue cards?”

He groans, body deflating. “You know I hate cue cards.”

“Okay, so let’s just go over the parts for now, then we can move on and do something else.”

You clear out a bigger area on the floor, making space for your study session. Eddie helps by kicking back stray articles of clothing and then picking out what looks like spilled weed from the carpet and collecting it in the palm of his hand. You’re a touch more productive, taping little pieces of paper over the diagram labels. When you’re done, you sit up admiring your work. Eddie stands, dropping his little handful of greenery onto his desk before sitting down on his bed. 

“Do you want to do it up there or down here?” You ask. 

The slight double entendre isn’t lost on you, you heard it before you even said it. Now knowing how shy Eddie is about this stuff, you couldn’t help but push your luck, and the blush that spreads across his cheeks makes it entirely worth it, especially while you deadpan and pretend you have no clue. 

“I’ll come down there—“ He says and you watch him physically recoil as his words set in. You resist your laughter. 

“Come, Eddie. Faster,” you tease, laughter starting to bubble up. A smile breaks through his embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You like seeing me suffer?”

“Me? Teasing you on purpose? Never.”

With a shake of his head, he joins you on the floor, leaving a large gap between the two of you. “Can we not do this, I already know this stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Eddie Munson is well versed in human anatomy?”

“I’m — I’m not going to answer that,” he crosses his arms. 

With a clap of your hands, you ignore his pouty demeanor. “Okay! Let’s just do this, the quicker you memorize everything the quicker we can not do this.”

With both of the diagrams set up, you give him the option of starting with the penis or vagina first. He chooses the easy answer, opting to go with the penis. 

One by one you point out each part of the penis, asking him for the anatomically correct name. You quickly understand why he’s failing. 

“Okay, and this one is…?”

“The head,” he states. 

“I mean… sure,” you nod hesitantly — “but the little arrow is pointing there — the glans. This one?”

You continue going through the chart, teaching Eddie the proper names for everything. When you finally graduate to the diagram of the vagina, Eddie is physically squirming in his spot. 

“Eddie, relax. Seriously. We’ve all seen a vagina before.”

“It’s so fucking hot in here, are you hot?” He groans, standing up and tripping his way to the window, slamming it open with a grunt. 

He’s barely made his way back before you have a thought.

“You’ve seen a vagina before, right?” 

He freezes — just for a moment, but you catch it. On his way to return to his spot on the floor he pauses, then continues moving as if you haven’t asked him a question. When he sits, you quirk a brow. 

“Yeah!” He answers. His voice tunes so high, it begs to crack.

You nod skeptically. You wouldn’t say he’s lying per se, but something seems off. Something that you’re interested in getting to the bottom of. 

“Let’s take a break, okay?” You offer.

“Yeah, a break’s, uh — good.” He exhales, letting out a breath of relief. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, fanning it in and out, getting some air flow on his skin. It’s very suspicious and you have to assume —

“So, you’ve never seen a vagina,” you say.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I have! I’m not a virgin.”

“You’re squirming like one.”

“I’m not!”

“There’s nothing wrong —”

“I’m not!” He says much louder, cutting you off. 

You believe him, seeing the full depth of sincerity in his amusedly large, and overly serious eyes. 

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m not,” he insists once more, tone leaning towards stern. 

“I believe you, Eddie.”

The two of you sit quietly in your respective spots. You could busy yourself with getting some more studying stuff ready, but somehow — even though there was some verbal finality — this conversation doesn’t seem over. 

And with an inhale from Eddie, it’s not.

“I’ve just never been like…” he pauses, thinking, “I’ve just never been all up in there.” He makes a crude motion with his hands, both palms splayed out flat in your direction, moving outwards like he’s spreading something out. 

“You’ve never eaten a girl out before?”

“What are we doing?” He says, dropping his head into his hands, scrubbing at his cheeks with both palms. 

“You don’t have to answer. Seriously, if I’m really making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. Swear.”

His chest inflates with a deep breath, then his head pops up. “I have but only for like a minute, in the dark, parked outside of the hideout after a gig,” he confesses. You raise your brows, surprised.

“You work quickly. A minute, that’s impressive.”

“No… Jesus, no,” he winces. “I fucking wish. We got interrupted and… yeah she never wanted to hang out after.”

“Oh,” you hum. “That sucks.” You tilt your head at him, frowning apologetically. 

“Yeah. She, uh, I’m pretty sure she had a boyfriend but I didn’t know when we… yeah.” He concludes his confession with a shrug before sitting back to lean against the side of his bed. 

“That really sucks. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, tacking on a laugh. It’s not a nervous laugh. It’s genuine and you take his lack of nervousness as permission to continue the conversation. 

“So… Do you have a tactic?”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. Like, most guys use the alphabet on the clit thing, which is awful by the way, don’t do that.”

“I think…” he raises his brows. “I think, maybe, just being overzealous is my thing. I don’t really know — I haven't done it enough to have a tactic.”

“Overzealous is good…” you nod, “as long as it’s strategic.”

Eddie meets your gaze. He’s intrigued — “Elaborate?” he asks. 

“Like, sure if you want to go to town and eat the pussy, go for it, but the only place it really counts is the clit — of course everything else is nice too, but the clit is definitely where it matters,” you nod to yourself, punctuating your statement. “And—” you add on, raising your hand, bringing together two of your fingers to mime the curling motions of getting fingered. “I like when they use their fingers too. It's a lot better like that.”

Eddie goes silent. He looks like he’s thinking, maybe even committing your words to memory— but it’s an odd look he has on his face. One you’ve never seen before from him.

“Sorry, did I say too much?” You laugh, trying to diffuse. Eddie looks at you, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

“Why the fuck are you tutoring me in going down on a girl right now?” He laughs. 

You smile, appreciating his amusement. Tilting your head boastfully, you accept his comment like a compliment. “Just a natural born teacher, I guess,” you tease. 

He nods, humming agreeingly. He doesn’t say anything more but you’ve got a handful of curiosities burning through your back pocket, and when in rome…

“Are we done with this conversation,” you ask, “or can we keep going ‘cause I might have a few questions for you?”

“Hasn't this whole conversation already been an interrogation of my experiences?”

“But this might be your only opportunity to teach me something, Edward.” You jet out your lower lip, pouting it, rounding your eyes at him — trying your best to keep this going. 

He rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“Are you about to ask me if I can move my dick without my hands, because the answer is yes but it’s not full control.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but very cool.”

“Sorry. That’s usually what girls ask.”

That has been a curiosity but your questions… your questions are much more… sophisticated? 

“So can I?” you ask. 

“Can you?”

“Ask you questions?”

He bites his lip, pointedly making you sweat it out. With a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Go for it.”

You sit up straighter, very pleased with his answer. 

“Balls,” you state. Eddie’s eyes widen immediately — you ignore the regret that flashes across his face. “Do you like them being touched? Every time I’ve done anything with them, the guy kind of, like, recoils and it feels like I did something wrong.” 

“Jesus…” he clears his throat with an awkward laugh. “You’re really going for the big questions, huh?” 

“The big questions?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively. 

“No, Jesus I’m not implying my balls are — holy shit. My balls are normal sized, that’s not what I meant.” He continues to laugh through his embarrassment, cheeks heating right back up to that very cute, bright, red colour. 

“I’m just teasing you, Eddie. I’m sure your balls are lovely and perfectly normal sized.”

He hums appreciatively but it gets stuck in his throat, coming out as a high pitched croak. He clears his voice, nodding as he raises a hand to the back of his neck, wringing it nervously.

“You don’t have to answer, but I would appreciate knowing,” you say, softly, sympathetic — leaning into apologetic. He nods again, and you can tell the gears are spinning in his head as he thinks over his answer. 

“They’re just… sensitive,” he swallows. “But… I do like them being played with, or sucked, or licked… or whatever.” 

His eyes focus on the far wall, not out of nervousness or shyness this time, but more like he’s giving his words some real thought. You appreciate it and wait patiently for him to continue. 

“I guess I would have to say that it’s personal preference, so ask?” he continues unsurely, eyes still focusing elsewhere. “I mean, no guy is ever gonna be mad if you ask to put their balls in your mouth — or… whatever you want to do with them.” He looks at you with wide eyes as he suddenly gets nervous again. You wave him off, letting him silently know that ‘balls in your mouth’ is not an offense to you.

“Could you cum from someone playing with your balls?”

“Holy shit,” he gasps, laughing. His hand that was wringing his neck drops to his lap in a heavy thud. At the same time, he brings up both knees, hugging them halfways to his chest as he mulls over his answer. “Um? Maybe? But, I think a big part of it is a visual thing — like, it adds to the hotness when they’re into the balls?” He finishes, adding an unsure inflection to the end of his remark. You nod, narrowing your eyes into a squint as you absorb what he’s saying. 

“So it doesn’t feel good?”

“It does,” he quickly corrects, “just anything on the head feels way better.” 

“Okay… good to know.” You nod, moving on. “And dirty talk. You really like that? Like, when the girl’s going on and on about your ‘big cock in her tight little pussy’, is it not weird?”

“Jesus, you really aren’t holding back with these questions.” He smiles through the blotchy redness growing down his neck all the way to the collar of his shirt.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” you promise, dipping your face lower to catch Eddie’s gaze. He holds it for a second, before letting his eyes roam the room. 

“Dirty talk is hot, obviously, but… it’s not when it’s rehearsed shit like that. It makes it feel like they’re performing — and maybe I’m just doing a piss poor job and they are performing — I don’t know, but I’d rather hear about what you actually like that I’m doing. Even if you’re telling me to go faster or harder or whatever. That’s fucking hot.”

“Alright, so be genuine. Cool,” you nod. 

“You done with questions?” He meets your gaze with raised brows for a fraction of a brave second before quickly looking away. 

The thing is, you’re not done. 

“So, hypothetically, if someone you didn’t like played with only your balls, and it wasn’t hot— like nothing about it was hot, would you still cum?”

He doesn’t give you the same surprised initial shock as he did with all the other questions. This time he just lets out a long, evenly staggered breath through puffed out cheeks. 

“I think…” He hugs his knees closer to his chest, rubbing both his palms along his shins quickly, filling the silence with the sounds of skin on denim. 

You can see the edge of his words in his expression, like he wants to say something but is holding it back. Whatever it is, you wait patiently — you do sit up a little straighter though, eagerly leaning inwards, listening with baited breath to his quiet, pensive hum.

His lips twitch, mouth opening then closing. With a loud exhale, he lets go of his shins, letting his knees drop from their upright position, and with that, his resolve breaks.  

“Fuck it” he curses — “Probably. Sometimes I think that the wind blowing the wrong way could make me cum. Like, I’m fighting for my fucking life to not get hard right now.”

He ends his speed-run confession with a pant, chest shallowly heaving with each breath. Excited wings beat inside your chest, dipping down to your belly as you absorb what he's just said to you. 

“Really?” you ask, blinking wide eyes at him. His breathing evens out, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shrugs shyly — cutely.

“You know I like you, right?” 

His face falls. “What?” His brows press together, furrowing with confusion and you really don’t know how you could have been clearer about this whole ordeal.

“Eddie,” you smile. “I’ve told you like a million times that I like you — like earlier, I told you barely an hour ago before we got started.”

You said it quite plainly too; ‘Believe it or not, Eddie, I like you, and your success translates to my happiness.’ 

“Yeah, but I thought you meant as a… a person? Or a friend?”

You can’t help but laugh — not at him… well, a little bit at him, but this is just so ridiculous, how could he be so clueless. 

“I love my friends but I don’t think I would fill all my free time teaching them math and all the anatomical correct names of the different parts of the penis.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, they’re good people but that’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you tease. “Of course I’m serious, Eddie. So if you wanted to make a move… I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

At this point, after a confession as straightforward as that, you’d hope for movement — anything — even him getting closer to you, moving in for a kiss at the very least… but he stays sat in his opposite spot, his binder with the vagina diagram laid out flat, separating the both of you. 

Maybe you read this wrong — backpedal. 

“Did I just make this weird? Should I have not said that? I like tutoring you too, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting something from you just because I’ve been helping you.” You ramble apologetically, shrinking into yourself as you feel your whole body start to flush with icky embarrassment.

Eddie’s spine goes rigid as he sits up pin-straight, shaking his head emphatically.

“No! I like you too,” he interjects, leaning towards you, putting a hand on your knee. “Even before you started tutoring me.” 

“You do?” You sigh a breath of relief. Meeting his eyes, you smile sweetly, ignoring the whiplash that still has your stomach pinched in a half knot.

His voice gets soft with his confession — “Why do you think I didn’t want to sit around looking at penises and vaginas with you?” he laughs quietly,  “I was terrified of getting hard and scaring you away.”

The mention of him getting hard has your eyes flickering downwards for a split second. You can’t tell, but you tease him anyway — “And how’s that working out for you?”

“If you’re asking if I’m hard…” He trails off, smiling nervously, leaving you with a confirmed suspicion. 

“Should I make a move?” 

“Well, I’m not opposed.” He says it like it’s a joke — you know he’s being funny, breaking tension or whatever, but you don’t laugh. You perk up, tummy filling with fluttery feelings because that’s permission.

Permission to crawl the short distance between the two of you.

Permission to help yourself to his lap — pulling your skirt up high enough to straddle his upper thighs.

Permission to let your hands feel from his shoulders, down to his pecks. 

Permission to be this close to him — close enough that you can see every shy detail, every cute freckle, every nervous flutter of his lashes. 

Best of all — it’s permission for an intimacy you’ve been waiting for — longing for.

You sink yourself against him and — “Oh,” you gasp, “you weren’t kidding.” 

Through the thin cotton of your underwear, you feel the hard curve behind the zip of his jeans. It has you biting your lip, holding back your grin. 

His eyes coast your features, narrowing in on the tweaked up corners of your lips. He ghosts a quiet ‘yeah’, dipping his face downwards, hiding his own coy smile. 

You just won’t have that — you bring your hands to his cheeks, tilting his chin upwards, encouraging him to look at you. He lets you guide him, lets you wash your gaze over his features — lets you rake your eyes over every detail, even when his skin grows pink and you know he wants you to be looking anywhere else.

But you can’t help it. The rosy tint to his cheeks looks too warm, too inviting. His lips are just too pink, too bitten. And most of all, his eyes have become too deep, too capturing, especially when the usual gold in his brown has resolved to being just the thinnest ring, glinting and shimmering around absorbing black orbs.

“Your eyes are really dark right now,” you observe aloud. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. You watch him as he lets his own gaze search your face. He swallows, coming to his own conclusion. “You just looked amused.”

You smile. You are amused but — “I’m not just amused.”

“No?” 

“I’m also really turned on.” You feel it in your belly, multitudes of warm winged flutters, sitting low, radiating heat throughout your whole body. You lean in closer, watching intently as his brows rise, moving to hide beneath his bangs as he processes your second confession of the evening.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

He swallows thickly, and that golden ring in his eyes gets the faintest bit thinner.

“I do.”

You sit more comfortably, bringing your hands back to his chest and letting your bum press fully to his thighs. He lets out a near silent groan as your front sinks to his and when you adjust your hips, his hands dart to your sides, holding you tightly. 

“First,” you smile, batting your lashes at him. “I’m thinking about kissing you.” A soft swoon washes over Eddie's face, eyes turning soft for you. His eyes blink down to your lips, but you have more to say. “I’m also thinking about your balls in my mouth.”

The softness steps back, shock taking over. “Jesus christ,” he curses yet again, drawing out each syllable in a low groan. 

“And since I’ve been sitting here, I can’t help but think about how your cock would feel inside of me.”

“Fuck.” He meets your gaze, eyes rounding, jaw going slack. His chest begins to rise more rapidly, his breathing growing heavier. 

The feeling of him between your legs is undeniable now — he’s hard, very hard, uncomfortably hard. You let your hands slide up his chest, to his shoulders, letting your fingertips graze along the warm skin of his neck. He blinks heavily, eyelids growing weighted, swarming with evident lust. It makes you excited, makes you want more. 

You lower your voice to a breathy whisper, leaning in closer, letting your lips graze the shell of his ear.  “How’s the dirty talk, Eddie? Am I doing good?” You purr. His fingers pinch into the flesh at your sides as you shift once again, rolling your hips just enough to feel that hint of pleasure between your thighs. 

Eddie stifles his moan. “S– so good. You’re doing so g-good,” he stutters. His breath hitches as you press a kiss to the edge of his jaw, and then another, moving downwards to his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?” You pull away, looking at him through your lashes. You barely have a second to react before his hands are on your jaw, tugging you into him. 

It catches you off guard at first as his lips mash to yours. It’s entirely overzealous, bidding his earlier statement true by multiple definitions. It’s not terrible, but it is desperate. 

Flattening a heeding palm to his chest, you pull away just the slightest bit, letting your lips faintly graze his. 

“Slowly, Eddie.” you whisper. 

His interrupted desperation manifests as a quiet huff against your lips. Regardless of how hard he is beneath you, and how badly he wants to mash his mouth to yours, he nods, noses bumping together as he does.

This time you lean in. You guide the kiss, moving slowly, tenderly, and he follows your lead, moving gently, catching on quickly. Your upper lip presses between both of his and it's so delicate, so earnest, that it makes your heart thrum. It's exactly what you needed, and you reward Eddie with a quiet hum, letting your hands wrap behind his neck, pressing your chests together. 

His breath fans over your skin as he hums back, letting his hands glide to your lower back, hugging you closer. His lips massage yours, slowly, and he takes his time, letting you melt into him entirely. 

When you feel the pressure of his tongue licking across your lower lip your anticipation really sets in. You open your mouth, rolling your hips upwards as you move in closer to him. With a huffed, eager grunt, and with fingers kneading bruises into your skin, he licks into your mouth completely contradictory to it all, still giving you softness in the kiss. You’re elated by it all, swept up, enraptured by him being so sweet to you.

You sigh breathily as you have to pull away. 

“That was really good,” you fawn, dropping your head to rest against his shoulder. You let out another sigh, smiling contently to yourself. You’ve been wanting to do that for a long time — really too long, if you’re being honest. 

Eddie hums an agreement. You intend to go further than just a kiss, but you give yourself a moment to bask in it all. Just a moment, that’s all you need. 

And in the next moment, with your wits gathered, you wiggle your hips. Eddie’s palms press tightly against your back and he lets out a sharp gasp that melds into a whimper. You giggle a quiet apology. 

“Too much for you?” you tease.

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, his warm cheek pressing to yours. “M’just really hard right now.”

He is — you can feel it, and you can feel the mess growing between your own thighs. 

A simple solution; you hint at rolling your hips another time. It’s hardly any friction, just testing the waters. You’re surprised when Eddie pulls you inwards, guiding your hips, encouraging you to move. He lets out a low groan as the squish of your thighs pass over his length, one that you hardly register over your own gasp as you get your first real hint of pleasure.

With his help, you build a slow rhythm, grinding to the curve in his denim, one that has your eyes fluttering shut and Eddie tensing, letting out meak whimpers and low moans. It's nice, it really is, but as nice as it feels for you, you weave a hand between the two of you, suggestively placing it on the buckle of his belt.  

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Yes,” his voice comes out as a heaved breath. Very eager to continue.

“After you cum, how long does it take for you to get hard again?”

“Sh-shit — it depends. Sometimes —” he swallows thickly and you hear the gulp in his throat — “sometimes it’s barely a few minutes.”

“I want to try out what you taught me, but I want you to fuck me too.”

“We can — yeah we can do that.” His voice wavers as he bites back his excitement, trying to play it cool. Despite that, you feel the overzealousness in his pants, twitching with enthusiasm. 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before scooting back on his legs, weaving your hands between the two of you to pop open his belt. Just as you unweave the leather and toss the heavy buckle to the side, holding the button under your thumb, Eddie’s hand meets your waist — not stopping you, just getting your attention. 

“Can I…” he starts. You look up at him, pausing your movement. He continues, “can I try what you told me too?” His eyes barely meet yours, growing bashful all over again. 

“Of course you can,” you say sincerely. You finish unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down while leaning in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You don’t gotta be shy, Eddie. I like you already, a lot.” 

He nods, but you can still see a hint of cautiousness in his expression. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. I want you to be comfortable with me. Anything you need, anything you want, you can tell me.” 

He nods. His mouth mulls for a moment, but he nods a second time, assumedly coming to a conclusion. “Can we move up to the bed?” he asks. 

“I’d like that,” you smile and he smiles back.

Just as you lift your leg to get off him, you let out a surprised yelp as he does the bravest thing he’s done yet, both hands grabbing firmly at your bottom, tugging you into him and up as he pushes himself off the floor. He moves the both of you up to the edge of the bed with one strong flex of his legs and your stomach swirls with the rush of it all. 

From there, it's a giggling tussle of limbs, him pulling you up the bed, you pulling his pants off. Eventually, you both settle, him pantless, sitting with his back to the wall where his headboard should be, and you, by his side, knees pressing to his thigh. Your fingers wiggle with excitement as you take the thin cotton of his boxers, lacing them just under the waistband. 

You shimmy in your spot, shaking your hips, letting out a happy hum as you begin to pull them down. Your belly fills with good nerves, butterflies, and your mouth salivates. When you get them down as far as you can without his help, he silently chimes in, lifting his hips, hooking his own thumbs into the material. With a quiet humph, the fabric passes his length, freeing it to bob against his shirt-covered belly. 

Tempestuously red. Furiously flushed. Severely erect. Poor Eddie. Happy you. His tip is blushed to a deep crimson, glistening with the pearlescent sheen of precum. It has your body flushing hot everywhere — from your cheeks all the way south to where you grind yourself down onto the backs of your heels just to feel a pinch of salvation. 

Somewhere between where your ogling started and where you had to physically swallow the gathering saliva in your mouth, his boxers got discarded entirely, your own shirt disappearing along with them — because it is just so hot all of a sudden.  

If you weren’t completely blinded by your impeding tunnel vision, you would have seen the way Eddie gawked at your newly revealed skin, absorbing every inch, taking in every feature to your body. You would have seen the way his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and the fresh cherry red blush spread to his cheeks. You would have seen the way he had to forcefully peel his eyes away from your chest when he felt your fingers press into his bare thighs as you situated yourself between his legs. But you didn’t have a chance to notice all of those details, not when you felt the thrilling thrum of anticipation bubbling up in your bloodstream. 

“You ready, Eddie?” You ask, grinning at him. He blinks slowly at you, no answer, making your smile falter.

“You look pretty,” he blurts out, much to your delight. “Really pretty. All the time — not just now because you're about to — you’re just beautiful, s’what I want to say.”

“Thank you,” you say, pleasantly surprised. Eddie on the other hand, cringes at his own rambling, face scrunching in defeat. You like him even more for it — “I think you’re beautiful too, Eddie,” you smile. “And not just because I have your pretty cock in front of me.” 

Eddie huffs a soft laugh and you gleam, pleased with yourself. 

With actual consent, you take him in your hand. Gentle at first, easing him into your touch. Just barely grazing your thumb over the tip, you smear the slick precum around, before sinking your fist to his base. He lets out a tensed moan, exhaling — exhilarating. That quiet, throaty noise has you lighting up, already feening for more.

Leaning down further, arching your back, you gather your saliva in your mouth before letting it spill out in a single string over the tip of his needy head, falling down just to be caught by the upwards rise of your fist. This time he sucks in a sharp breath and you live for it. 

Closing the distance between your mouth and his cock, you lick the tip gently, pressing your tongue to the river of precum that sits in the curves of his slit, relishing in the saltiness that makes your mouth water effortlessly. You hum, feeling the pulse between your legs grow deeper, more intense. You push your hips back, angling them, searching for any sort of relief. 

While it doesn’t satiate the need between your thighs, Eddie notices your squirm, and brings a splayed palm to your side, letting it curve to your skin. It settles in, warming you, encouraging you to distract yourself in such a beautiful way by taking him into your mouth. 

You let your tongue swirl. Flick. Caress. Your lips graze before closing, and you suck. Cheeks hardly hollowing, the noise he lets out makes you want to keep being gentle — draw this out, make this last. 

But like a devil on your shoulder, you want to skip forward. You want his balls in your mouth, that’s the guise of this whole encounter, isn’t it? To practice what he’s taught you.

Jumping right to the chase, abandoning his desperately swollen cock, doesn’t strike you as the way to go about this, so you continue to be gentle. Pulling off the tip, kissing him up and down his length. Pressing your lips where needed and drawing circles and lovey hearts across his skin with the pointed angle of your tongue.

It's not fruitless. Every noise, every groan, every heavy breath, pleading whimper, fills you up. It fills you up until it has you leaning your body into his hand on your rib cage, needing to feel him wherever you can, while taking him fully into your mouth. Swallowing him down, deeply hollowing your cheeks, gliding your lips and flattening your tongue until your nose presses to the wispy patch of coarse hair at his base. 

“Fuck— fuck.” Eddie groans through a strangled breath. 

His hand leaves your ribs and you whimper at the loss, only to be reunited with the physical contact as he takes hold of your head with both of his hands, pulling you up. You whine, chest collapsing with defeat. You pout as soon as his cock leaves your mouth. Looking up at him, he looks worked up and frayed — all a shivered mess — but eyes sincerely apologetic as he catches your disappointment. 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He pants heavily, catching his breath while you catch your own. Your pout lessens, and instead, your pride sets in. You did that to him. 

Wiping your gathered tears, you place a tentative hand on his length, watching him for any protests. His head knocks back into the hard wall, but he never loses sight of you, now looking down the angular slope of his nose, watching with amorous, lusting eyes. 

You dip down, reapproach, but this time you give into your own desire, indulging yourself.

Lifting his cock, you nose down his length. His eyes turn wide, but still, no protests.

“Can I put your balls in my mouth?” You ask, doing just as he told you to do, embellishing your simple sentence with pleading, fluttery lashes and persuasive, pinched together brows. 

His lips press into a purse as he swallows, and then they part with approval. “Yes,” he says. You watch as his tongue swipes along his plump bottom lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him. 

Appreciation sits on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say it, you show it. Bowing your face low, you lick up the centre of his sack, flattening your slow moving tongue with an oath of sincerity — this makes you burn. For a moment, you believe that you’d be content if this was for you and you only, but then you meet his gaze, and you see the way he burns too.

His eyes devour you — your hand wrapped around his cock, thumb barely touching index, your chin settled deep between his thighs. You burn identically and it makes the swirl of butterflies in your stomach rise high, beating heavily in your chest. You get lost for a moment, but a thumb on your cheek, sweetly swiping softly against your skin, brings you right back.

“Pretty girl,” he hums. 

You tilt your head, nuzzling into his grip, humming a tender thank you. His thumb swipes again, just under your eye before settling behind your ear, sitting there with no intention but to be tethered to you.

It’s sweet, and you return the gesture, pressing two kisses, one to each side. You shift your focus, returning back to the moment.

Head still partially in the clouds, you do something daring without thinking, and you suck one of his balls into your mouth. Eddie lunges forward, bending at the waist, nearly folding in half as his stomach tenses harshly. He whimpers, and you pull back immediately.

“Sorry!” You shift, looking at his contorted expression. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

He quickly relaxes himself, patting your cheek as he settles, unclenching his thighs that had tightened at your sides.

“No — no.” He shakes his head, catching his breath “Do it again.” He gently guides you back down. “I was just distracted, caught me off guard,” he explains.

Distracted like you were. You understand, and you let him guide your face back down. 

This time you’re careful. With his eyes on you, you start again, licking, feeling the silky skin with your tongue as you gauge his reaction, peering up at him through your lashes. He nods, and you carefully take him into your mouth, letting your tongue roll cautiously along the velvet skin. 

You’re careful not to do too much, but you grow more confident when you see the way his mouth falls open with his own appreciation. 

“Fuck,” he exhales. “Just like that. Good girl,” he praises, groaning as you suckle delicately. His cock jumps in your loose fist, reminding you just how long it's been since you’ve paid it any attention. Tightening your grip, you run your fist up, then down languidly, multitasking in a way that has Eddie gaping, jaw slack, mouth parted wide, eyes owlish and filled to the brim with heated astonishment. 

With your mouth, you switch to his other side, doing the same, rolling your tongue exploringly, seeing what has his stomach tensing and noises pulling from his lungs. 

As you let your thumb run over his leaking head, he lets out a throaty groan. His thighs tense around you once more, but instead of backing away, you lean into it, embracing the new-found way to make him squirm. 

His breathing quickly becomes rapid as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking more confidently, and pulling away every now and again to press deserved kisses. Your fist moves quicker, focusing on the tip — purposeful, as you remember what he taught you. 

You suck, and glide your hand in smooth strokes, over and over, showing him just how much you like him. If he didn’t believe you before, he has to now. 

With a strong, devoted rhythm built, the skin against your tongue eventually begins to pull taut. He throbs in your hand. You know before he says anything, even before his hand can flex its grip on your cheek. You pull away, letting him fall from your mouth with a quiet pop. He lets out a worn sigh of relief as you sever the threads of spit from your mouth to his balls and shift, moving back to his wired-up cock, twitching at just the sensation of your breath on his over-flushed tip.

Rearranging yourself, you sink your fist, moving it low to his base, and then you adjust, moving your hand to cradle his balls in your palm. His stomach flexes and he lets out a pitiful whimper — he's so close, even while you're barely touching him.

“Please,” he rasps through a strained breath. 

You have nothing but appreciation for the man in front of you, reduced to pleading. You want nothing more than to satisfy him.

Gentle, a thing of the past. You take his cock in your mouth deeply. Swallowing his thickness down, taking him as far as he fits, pressing him to the very back of your throat. Your eyes water, and you breathe heavily through your nose, never once forgetting to massage him in your hand.

His chest heaves, and his fingers weave their way into the hairs at the base of your neck, tugging — communicating. His helpless moans draw out, getting longer and deeper, drawing out each and every flutter in your belly, adding to your fire. 

You can’t believe you’ve been sitting around, tutoring him, teaching him math when you could have been doing this. This is much better — much, much more fulfilling. 

You rise and fall, bobbing quickly, and he encourages you, helping you find the pace that brings him to his edge. He swells in your mouth, and draws upwards in your hand. You hum, encouraging him to let go.

“I’m gonna —” he tries to speak, but a rogue whine cuts him off. He sucks in a sharp breath — “I’m cumming, I’m —” Panic invades his voice as his grip in your hair turns harsh, pulling, stinging your scalp. You hum again, and then you feel the spill. 

The warmth of his cum invades the back of your throat, loading your senses with the distinctly musky taste and a bitter-flavoured swell of sweetness in your chest. Pleased, you swallow it down, and ask for more with the purse of your lips on his overworked tip. His hips buck up into you as you happily swallow everything you can, lapping it up with your appeasing tongue. 

His body relaxes until you don’t stop. Then he’s flexing again, sucking in harsh, gasp-like breaths, using his hands in your hair to guide you away from his over-sensitive cock. 

Both his palms cup your cheeks and you rise, straightening out your spine, walking your knees up the mattress to be closer to him. His hand falls to your knee, encouraging a bend, welcoming you back into his lap. You happily take a careful seat on his thighs. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gushes unapologetically. 

His body slouches into the mattress, but he continues to beakon you forward. You follow his weak, weary pull and he guides you to his lips, attaching his mouth to yours in a lazy kiss. His beholden tongue greets yours, unaffected by the lingering flavour of his seed that coats your lips and mixes with your spit. He devours it gratefully. 

“That was —” he starts, pulling away just to peck your lips again — “So, so— I don’t even have words.” His hand slides loosely across the expanse of your bare waist as he presses a frenzy of chaste kisses to your lips, making you giggle.

“I did good? I thought I hurt you for a minute.”

“No— shit, you did so good, baby.” Eddie hums, fondly pressing his cheek to yours as he hugs you closer.

You feel his praises blaze at something inside of you, thrumming through your bloodstream, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t highlight your own neediness, the one left abandoned between your thighs. 

Despite the restlessness that grows in your twitching hips, you try to relax, focusing on the sentimental feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, letting your body slink into his, fitting seamlessly against him until his breathing returns to a steady rate. You patiently wait for him to make the next move — especially after him letting you lead most of this evening. 

Just as you’ve let your eyes flutter shut, resting them for a peaceful moment, a kiss to your shoulder has your excitement kicking up in your lower belly, waking up those warm, winged creatures once again. He presses another kiss, and then another, following the slope of your shoulder. Down the curve, to your collarbone, high on your chest, kiss after kiss until his lips meet the plumpness of your breast that spills over the cups of your bra.

The swell of your breast, across, to the centre, his lips find your sternum, and you keen into it, unafraid of coming off as desperate. 

It’s barely anything, just innocent pecks, but it has you impatient, tilting your head back, curving your body to offer up more skin to him. He hums a warm tone, affectionately following the path of your sternum, nosing his way down your cleavage, sighing a deep, warm breath against your skin, adding a few extra heated degrees to your body temperature — you thank him with a breathy moan.

His hands move to your sides, tickling along your flesh, leaving goosebumped skin in their path as he traces along the band of your bra, fingertips gliding until they meet the clasp.

“Please,” you whisper, biting your lip as he finger paints small swirls along your spine. You push yourself closer, needing more.

And he gives you more. The band tightens around your ribs as he finds the edge, and you hold your breath.

One clip comes undone easily, granting you a hint of relief. Two follows, leaving just the third hook stuck standing between you and the promise of pleasure.

Then he stops — worse actually — he doesn’t just stop, he completely abandons the clasp on your bra as his head pops up, nearly clipping the edge of your jaw. He pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head to his shoulder.

It surprises you, making your heart pound for an entirely different reason.

“What—” you begin, but his heedful palm spreads across the plain of your upper back, halting your question, making you pause. Unsure and curious, you turn your face, pushing against his grip on you, trying to see what’s wrong.

His face is contorted into a flat, focused look as his eyes fixate on the closed door of his room. You’re totally confused by what has pulled his attention, but then you hear a clatter from the living room of his trailer. You turn to look at Eddie. 

His eyes pinch shut with disappointment. “No,” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder in defeat. 

“Is that —”

“My fucking uncle,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Oh,” you say quietly, trying to fight the unresolved neediness of your body from turning you into a slouching ball of disappointment.

“He's not supposed to be home yet,” he groans, and it comes out huffed, like he's annoyed, but you know it's not directed at you. Part of you is relieved to hear that upset edge in his voice, because you know how easy it would be for most boys to shrug it off when they already got what they needed.

His palm swipes across your back, rubbing it in a soothing way before he pulls away, finding your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. 

You shrug, it's not like this is his fault. “It’s okay,” you promise. 

“It’s not.”

You smile. “It is,” you say, delighted by his sincerity. “This just means we’ll have to pick up where we left off another day.”

“But you didn’t get to cum.”

True but — “I still had fun.”

He dips his face, chin bowing downward, bitten lips jetting out with his generous empathy. “I’m sorry,” he says again, and you giggle at his niceness. He might be more upset than you are, and you love it.

“Eddie, you know me,” you grin. “You said I did a good job, and there’s nothing better than the satisfaction of a job well done,” you beam, and you’re very pleased when you get a good chuckle from Eddie.

“Next time?” He proposes with a raised brow.

“Next time,” you agree.

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merci buckets hope you liked if you did make sure to hit! that subscribe button and leave a like down below (aka comment and reblog <33333)

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[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.

Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.

The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.

Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.

“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”

You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.

“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”

He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.

He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him a playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.

“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.

Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.

“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.

“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.

Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”

“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.

Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.

“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.

“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she’d made you stop to pick up on the way here.

“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.

“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.

You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.

Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.

Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.

When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.

Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.

When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.

“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.

“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”

“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”

“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.

“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.

“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.

“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.

“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.

You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.

“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.

“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”

By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.

“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.

“Jesus, what you got in here?”  Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.

“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”

“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.

As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.

He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.

The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler. 

“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”

“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment. 

“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.

Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.

This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.

Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.

Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.

Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.

“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”

Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.

Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet. 

Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.

Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.

“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.

“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.

“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.

Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.

“What did I miss?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.”

“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.

Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all. 

The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.

But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.

“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.

You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.

You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.

When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.

“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”

“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.

“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.

Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.

“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.

You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.

After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.

The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.

“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.

You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.

“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.

He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back. 

You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.

“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.

“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.

“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”

“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”

“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.” 

“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”

“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”

“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.

“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.

Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.

“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”

You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”

It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.

Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.

“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.

“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”

“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.

Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red. 

After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.

“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.

It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.

You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”

Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors. 

Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.

You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”

Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.

“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.

Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.

You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.

Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.

He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,

“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”

You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.

(chapter 2)

a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo

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