#that’s just how people look. how could you not find that hot.

[militaryapple]

I WON'T BITE.

synopsis. you find caleb up late at night watching some video, turns out youre into it as much as he is.

cw. fem!reader , sub!caleb, degradation, p in v (stay protected girliepops), oral (giving), whiny caleb, unaware voyuerism, masturbation, usage of ‘baby’ ‘princess’, dog in heat caleb, light bdsm, caleb is so pathetic

add ons. i heard people like whiny caleb so lets see if thats true, thanks for 600 pipsquirters hehe

wc. 2.4k

sometimes, when you're quiet enough you hear something in caleb's room. you were always scared to check out what exactly he was doing - due to the door either being shut and locked or it sounding intense so you didn't want to disturb him. after all, curiosity did kill the cat and this time you didn't want to be the cat.

it wasn't until one faithful night, you were supposed to be sleep but the rustling of the tree's and the sound of the rain dawned down on you. it was hard to sleep with all the noise, and frankly you knew that just closing your eyes and counting to 100 wasn't going to get you anywhere.

you tip-toed your way to the kitchen, trying to be as silent as you can. you thought maybe, caleb was sleep soundly. his dreams overtaking his mind while the sounds of pouring rain and trees clashing together soothed him. you could only envy how much of a deep sleeper he was.

going into the fridge you grabbed cold water, gulping it down before brushing past caleb's room to get to the living room. if you can't sleep, you might as well watch some TV. you could pass time and ignore the rumbling of the thunder and the brightness of the lightning that only flashed seconds after each grumble.

that was, until you heard a faint noise from caleb's room. at first it was suspicious to you, then your interest grew. you crept gently towards the rustling room and looked at the door. it was open enough for you to peek in, which was new at a time like this. at this time, his door would be shut. keeping both you and any possible intruders out while a little sign hung from his door going "OUT OF SERVICE COME BACK LATER" as a sign that he was either asleep, busy or away.

but there was no sign, and there was an open door.

you couldn't help but peek in, looking around the room. you could make out the sight if you squinted. it was caleb, he was on his phone. he stared down at it so intently, while two headphones plugged his ear from any and all sounds. his face flushed a pink, and his body jolted in the way your eyes didn't adjust to yet.

so you leaned in, inspecting the shadow-figure of caleb. deciphering every movement of his. that's when you saw it. his hands grabbed around his cock, pumping it at a pace which made his lips spill with whimpers and low muffled moans from the cotton of his shirt that filled his mouth. his arms flexing with every thrust and his eyes rolling back while he gathered a steady pace for himself.

your face felt hot, and your body lingered with a feeling of warmth. you legs involuntarily shuffling to squeeze your thighs together as you drunk up the sight of him. you pushed the door slightly, trying to get a closer view - but Caleb was quick to perk up looking straight at your shadow.

he scrambled to get himself put together, pulling up his clothes and jumping up out of his bed. he moved towards you quickly, his breath heavy as his chest heaved up and down. "pips," he chirped, "uh, ha, 'whaddya doing up at a time like this? miss me haha? here let me go to the bathroom and we can watch something okay? you can pick the movie." not letting you get a word out he shuffled past you and headed for the bathroom obviously embarrassed from just thinking you saw anything.

and you saw everything.

you moved in his room, noticing the phone that sat on his bed. you picked it up and settled down on his bed, typing in your birthday which is obviously his pass code, and looking through his phone. you stumbled on the website he was on, looking at it. oh. oh. you watched as the women degraded the men they had. how easy it was for these women to make their boyfriends get down and do what they want. was that what caleb was into? it was definitely different then what you two usually did.

heavy footsteps filled the room as it got closer to caleb’s room. you scrolled, ignoring them until you heard a “hey,” at the doorway. you looked up, caleb stood there. dumbfounded almost. he walked over to you with his hand out, asking for his phone back. and you just stared.

“do you want to do this?” you asked, setting the phone down on the bed, he tried to reach for it and you pulled it away. “give me my phone, pips.” he said softly, avoiding your eyes. you sucked your teeth, putting the phone in your shirt, placing it safely between your bra and your chest. caleb could only stand up, his eyes looking down in embarrassment.

the visual being almost eye candy for you. you stood up and grabbed his face, forcing his eyes to look at yours. “what’s the matter big guy? why are you acting shy now? you were just palming yourself to the thought of me practically calling you a stupid mutt.” his eyes flickered from your face, to your chest then to the floor. he let out a low whine from your words, his hands shaking.

“it’s okay,” you coo’d softly, caressing his face gently before moving your hand away. smack. your hands swiftly made their way across caleb’s cheek — looking up at him. he let out a moan, his body tensing. shame waved over his face, while he head turned away from you. with that, you looked down at his pants.

he got hard from that.

it only made you scoff, looking up at him almost laughing. “are you serious? did you just get fucking hard? off a slap? you really are a pathetic dog.” your eyes rolling — you scanned his body for any signs for you to stop, for a sign that you’re over-doing it, yet there was nothing. just to make sure, you turned. your hair swaying as you started to make your way to his door. “it’s late, you should get some slee - ” before you could finish you felt something grab your arm, you turned your head and it was caleb.

his eyes were doozy. he looked at you like he needed you, his face red but avoiding you and your eyes like it was plague. “you can’t — you can’t just leave me like this baby, please.” he whined. it was like music to your ears. you swatted his hand away and moved closer to him. pushing him on his bed.

your hands rubbed against the fabric of his sweats, glancing and grazing against his boner. “say it then, baby. come on, tell me how much you want me to call you names,” your lips finding his neck, and then his face. he tasted sweet - and his face was beautiful. his hips rolled at the feeling of your hands, small whimpers falling off his lips. “how you want me to make you feel oh-so-good.” you were teasing him, being cruel to him, yet it felt so exhilarating.

caleb held on your waist, tugging softly. “please,” he begged. “please make me feel so fucking good, i’ll be a good boy i promise — i’ll — fuckfuckfuck your hand your hand,” he was practically slurring on his words, you backed away from his neck and looked at him. his body spread on the bed as you leaded close to him, your hand palming his clothed cock while he held you somewhat steady.

his whimpers made you soar. you didn’t know he could make such noises, while you also didnt know you could be this mean to him. “my hand? what is it? puppy’s ‘gonna cum?” you coo’d. caleb’s gaze lingering on your hands while his hips squirmed and wiggled for more friction. he nodded his heads, hazed and dumbed.

“come on baby, you can cum for me.” you hum, in return caleb let out a guttural moan. his hips spurting while his now light-grey sweats stained with a darker color. you placed a kiss on the top of his forehead, then moved away from him. taking a step back you got down on your legs and spread his open slowly pulling down his waist band to reveal a throbbing cock.

“fuck caleb, you’re pathetic.” you groan, looking up at him before your mouth kissed the tip of his leaking head. “i wonder how many times you’ve gotten off to the thought of me doing this,” you hummed, fondling his balls while he whimpered, his eyes glossy. “how many times you’ve came to the thought of me using you for my pleasure, makes you feel real good, right?” you could see the tears form on his face as he nodded. “i’ve - ah mph, always thought of you doing this to me.” he whimpered.

you soon took him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw as you licked and sucked him. he was big, kissing the back of your throat while you sent vibrations through him. your head going at a steady pace as caleb held back the urge to take your head and absolutely demolish you. “oh god - you feel so good princess you do, really, i’ll be good for you - all good oh fuck,” he was stupid.

you picked up your pace, your hands now stroking him while you sucked him off. you could feel him tense, pounding in your mouth while you made him feel like heaven and earth combined.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum is that okay? please? let me cum in your mouth please,” he looked down at you, his hands holding on your head while you hummed in approval. his hips pounding in your mouth, kissing every inch of your throat and violating you, his hips bucking before hearing a ‘pop!’

you opened your mouth, his tip leaking all over your face. “such a nasty dog.” you got up, wiping your face before holding his face, and opening his mouth kissing him with your cum filled lips. “taste yourself, don’t you taste so good?” you tease, moving on top of his lap.

“come on doggy, undress me.” you roll your eyes, and caleb takes no time doing as he’s told. he started with your shirt, pulling it up over you and kissing your neck, down to your breasts while his hands hovered over your bra undoing them. his hands wandering down to your pants, shuffling your shorts off before pulling a free hand up to fondle your tit.

“so fucking beautiful” he mumbled, licking and kissing over you. his busy hand making its way down to your pantie before you slap him away. “nuh uh, not yet baby. you wanna cum right? be a good fucking boy.” your words sharp, caleb moved his hands away and you took your panties off.

“you’re gonna watch me prep myself. no touching, got it?” caleb’s eyes glazed over you, and you got straight to work. your fingers pushing your panties over before they rubbed on your nub. you let out a gasp and a moan - rubbing yourself and using your slick to make it easier.

your hands moved at the rhythm of your hips, your other arm using caleb’s shoulder for balance. it was horrid for caleb — he wanted you bad, and he wanted you now. yet you teased him, making him watch while he suffered the feeling of you twitching and shaking on top of him.

you slipped a digit in your sobbing cunt, then another. in and out at a slow pace, then speeding up. moving towards caleb ear you moaned for him. begging for him to make you feel good and to take you like the good puppy he was. how good you felt whenever he touched you. it made him shudder. your hips grinding against his cock, and he pulled you closer.

“so fucking nasty,” you moaned, your slit rubbing against his cock, while you now had both hands hold on to him, digging your nails in his back. “you’re so fucking nasty caleb,” you groaned. “jerking off to me — fuckfuck, you must’ve thought i couldn’t hear you? you fucking tease.” you couldn’t take it anymore.

your hips moved up, and you aligned your cunt with his cock, slowly going down feeling his dick fill you up so nicely. “oh, stupid mutt,” you held his face, tears down his eyes while your gazed never strayed from his, “you make me feel so good, the only thing you’re useful for baby,” you coo’d kissing his face. “fuck fuck can you hurry up and move??”

he obliged, his hips thrusting up in down, filling you then making you empty, you cried out, biting down on his nape making him moan in reply. “i know , i know im nasty” he whined out, stuttering as he rocked himself on you. “you’re just so fucking pretty i can’t help it baby,” he cried out. his hands having a firm grip on your hips making you roll on him.

you bounced on him, marked him, you needed him — you needed him to make you feel whole. “nothing without me, you’re nothing without me and you know this.” your kisses moving towards his face then his lips, “say it, say you’re nothing without me caleb” you whined.

caleb’s hips bucked forward, flipping you over and pushing his hips as close as he could to you. fuck, your eyes rolled back. you could feel his cock kiss your cervix, kiss every little part of your cunt. “i’m nothing without you, i’m yours, i need you,” he groaned, his pace picking up as his hands rubbed small circles on your crying nub.

“that’s it baby” you coo’d “work me real nice, good boy — that’s how you make me feel good.” your praises sent him over the moon, his hips buffering and his balls slapping nicely against your cunt making you both twitch in pleasure. you could feel him tense as he leaned down placing kisses over you.

“i’m close, come on make me cum, make me feel good come on” you held on his face, looking at his eyes. he was truly a beautiful sight. “cum with me okay baby? yeah you can do that for me right?” you coo’d, caleb whined in agreement. his hips rutting against you, before he stopped and twitched. his seed spilling everywhere in you while you both panted and moaned.

you stared at caleb, his breath heavy and eyes swollen. his necklace dangling before you pulled on it, bringing him down for a kiss.

if you knew this is what he was into, you would’ve peeked in his room a loooong time ago.

[murdrdocs]

come into my bedroom

description. you and JOAQUÍN TORRES take a week long vacation to the beach together. just a week on the coast, spending time in each other's bubble, without falling for each other ... probably. visuals

includes. coworkers to friends to lovers, SMUT 18+ MDNI, reader has been kept as ambiguous as possible (hair type, skin color, body type, place of birth, etc), reader is able to tan, the location is ambiguous, slight spoilers for brave new world, takes place after bnw, protected p n v sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom! joaquín, reader is called "baby" a couple of times

wc. 12.3k+

a/n: title from champagne coast by blood orange. i tried to keep where they vacationed as ambiguous as possible, but it's definitely at least a little bit obvious. for my bsf who recently got back from miami. thanks to @luckypunklemonade for beta reading :D

You’re drunk. 

No, you’re not drunk. You’re too drunk, inching towards shitfaced. You’re still here, at least here enough to walk beside Joaquín down the street towards your hotel, but you’re not really here. You know you’re not exactly walking in a straight line, and you know where you’re heading, but you don’t know how long you’ve been walking. You could’ve left the club five minutes or 50 minutes ago. 

You weren’t going to get this drunk. Honest. You and Joaquín were just going to go out, have a few drinks, and go back to your separate rooms. 

But the music was good, and the drinks were good, and the people were good, and suddenly you and Joaquín are drunk and navigating your way down the street. Well, he’s navigating your way. You’re just trying to keep up with his long strides. 

He walks a little in front of you the entire time, slightly more rigid, and a little less drunk than you are. You’ll probably be at his level in another half hour, that is if you get something in your stomach by then. Every so often, he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there. You thought about hooking a hand around his elbow to keep him close, but the thought entered your mind and left before you could act on it. 

There’s not much small talk happening, but you don’t mind it that way. You’re focused on making your feet pick up and land one (mostly) in front of the other. Actually, you’re focused on walking and finding an open food spot on the way. 

One part is going fine, the walking part, but you’re still blearily searching for something to eat. You pass bars and closed businesses, restaurants that require reservations weeks in advance, one of them you think you and Joaquín actually have a table at later this week, but nothing quick and greasy. Which is exactly what you need before calling it a night. 

Joaquín calls your name and you hum. 

“You up for stopping in right here?” He points to the side and you look around his wide shoulders to find your saving grace. It’s like he read your mind, or maybe you’d been audible harping on about wanting something to eat the entire time. Right now, either seems plausible. 

Either way, you nod and let Joaquín hold the door open for you. 

You and Joaquín end up sitting across from each other at a tiny outdoor metal table. With the wind blowing against your skin as you’re sipping freezing cold water from a to-go cup, you finally realize how hot you’ve been this entire time. You lift your skirt up a bit to press your thigh against the cool metal and a sigh pushes out front your lips. Your eyes fall shut as you just sit in the moment. 

“You still drunk?” Joaquín speaks from across the table. 

You open your eyes and destroy your brief peace to glare at him as you wrap your lips around your straw. “What do you think?” you ask him only when the cool liquid has slid down your throat. 

He laughs. “First night here and you’ve already gotten shitfaced.” He shakes his head as if he’s ashamed of you, but the playful glint in his eyes keeps you at ease. 

“It’s your fault!” you accuse. “You’re the one who made friends with that couple. They kept buying us drinks.” 

Joaquín throws his hands out to the side in a surrender. “I’m not going to say no to free drinks. Don’t blame me!”

He’s right. Even if he wasn’t, you aren’t in the arguing mood anymore. You would rather finish the greasy taco sitting limp in your hands. And you do.  

You’re not being very attractive about it, though, you can tell from the way the juice slides down your fingers and around your mouth, but that’s not really the point to all of this. 

Besides, you and Joaquín are just coworkers and friends. Just two coworkers/friends on vacation together. Sitting across from each other in front of a taco spot, fighting for sobriety as you occasionally lock eyes between large bites. There’s no reason for you to be attractively drunk eating when you’re only with your coworker/friend. 

You finish the last bite, wipe around your mouth with a crumpled napkin and throw it onto your empty tray, looking up to find Joaquín already looking at you. He has this look on his face, nothing different from the one he usually wears—soft eyes and a softer smile—but it feels different this time. Maybe it’s the city lighting and your drunkenness that’s skewing the meaning. You’re going to blame both factors for the flutter in your heart, too.

Neither of you say anything for a moment and in that moment, a thought flashes across your mind. It’s quick and fleeting, but still strong enough to evoke a reaction. Just a thought of you leaning over this small table and pressing your lips to Joaquín’s. And the thought was truly fleeting, but you bring it back and sit in it to imagine how he would reciprocate with his hands on your lower back, big palms resting on the strip of skin between your top and skirt, and he would taste like lime and alcohol and when you pulled away he would have a look almost identical to this one on his face. 

Joaquín’s eyebrows push together, skewing the soft look he wore before and knocking you out of your drunken trance. 

“What’s that look?” he asks. 

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “What look?”

His gaze lingers for a moment, but then he licks his lips and cleans up his area. “You think you’re sober enough to walk back now?” 

You scoff and attempt to make a point by quickly standing to your feet. When you wobble, it’s because your shoe didn’t land right on the concrete. Honest!

You have a crush on Joaquín. 

You don’t know why you’re realizing it here and now—laying in a hotel bed on vacation first thing in the morning. You don’t even know how long this crush has been here, but you know for sure you have a crush on Joaquín Torres, your partner/coworker/friend. 

You thought your little image from last night was fleeting, nothing but a drunken thought that you let yourself imagine for less than a minute, but it proved to be way more than that because when you got back to your room, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

As you took your makeup off, you thought about Joaquín waiting in your room for you to finish, snuggled under the blankets and scrolling through the channels on the TV until you came out of the bathroom in his shirt. As you climbed in the shower you imagined him standing at the sink brushing his teeth and humming that song he’s always singing but you never ask the name of. As you finally climbed into bed and clicked the lights off, you imagined fighting for covers with him and sleepily talking about your plans for the next day. 

It was so domestic and loving and absolutely sickening and unexpected. 

Well, maybe you should have expected it. At least a little. 

Joaquín is kind of the perfect guy. Everyone in your life made sure you were aware of it. He was funny, attractive, hard working, and easy to get along with. Even his flaws—his incessant nature and occasional annoyance for one—was quickly reworked as lovable in your head. 

You struggled with falling asleep for at least a half hour last night, and as soon as you knocked out, you were out. You might not have remembered your dreams but you knew deep in your mind and body that he was there. 

Just as he is here now, standing in front of you early  in the morning, wearing a bright smile and an athletic set. 

“No,” you sternly shut him down before he can even say anything. 

Joaquín’s jaw drops and he wears a mixture of shock and humor. “C’mon, you didn’t even let me say anything.”

“I know what you’re gonna say, Torres. I’m not going to some ‘sick workout class’ when we’re supposed to be on vacation.” 

“Oh, so we’re on last name basis again?” He crosses his arms over his chests and widens his stance. “I thought we moved past that.” 

“If you ask me to come with you then we’re back to last name basis, yeah.” 

He pouts and it’s so stupidly cute that you want to slam the door in his face. “Don’t let the hangover speak for you. I know you secretly wanna come workout with me.” 

You squint at him accusingly, leaning into the doorframe. “‘m not hungover.” 

“Uh-huh. How’s the headache?” He’s obviously not buying your shit.

“I don’t have a headache.” Bullshit and you both know it. 

“How’d you sleep?” He asks you instead, this time lacking any suspense. For a moment, he seems like he’s actually wondering how you slept. 

“Like a baby.”

“Then that means you should be energized enough to go for a workout. It won’t be bad. It’s only an hour.” 

You shake your head. “That’s an hour that I could be sleeping.” 

“And basically waste the whole day away? That doesn’t sound like the partner I know and love.”

You don’t let your mind linger on that word, especially when you know he doesn’t mean it like that. But still, knowing that Joaquín has some sort of love for you makes your chest feel all airy and glittery. 

“Yeah because that partner isn’t here right now. We’re on vacation.” 

Joaquín doesn’t respond. Not verbally at least. Instead, he tilts his head and fully pouts, lips pushed out and eyes big. He’s not backing down and truthfully, it might be better for you just to say yes and halfass the entire session. 

Finally, he reasons with you. “I’ll buy you a smoothie afterwards. Whatever overpriced shit you want. Fair?” 

Fair enough. 

Compared to what you’re used to, the workout is quick, but it’s certainly not painless. The instructor, some woman with much more energy than you’re willing to exert on vacation, seemed to find pleasure in kicking your asses. For a brief moment there when you were catching your breath and wiping your forehead on a towel, you wondered if she could be some big and bad super villain hiding in plain sight. That would explain the inhuman stamina, and the almost eerie cheery personality, but other than that your theory didn’t make much sense. And even if it did, you were on vacation. Now wasn’t the time to seek out trouble that wasn’t presenting itself. 

The only thing that pushed you through the entire thing was looking over at Joaquín, one because of how attractive he looked with sweat glistening along his tanned skin, and two because you refused to let him show you up, even if the workout was his idea. 

You will admit, though, that every time he lifted his shirt to wipe his forehead, your knees did feel just a little weaker and your last rep in a set was not nearly as strong as it could’ve been when you heard him grunting beside you. 

You couldn’t understand it. You and Joaquín workout together all the time. You train together, sometimes with Isaiah and Sam, sometimes with friends of friends, sometimes with just each other. You’re used to seeing him sweat, you’re used to hearing his grunts and breaths, you’re used to all of it. But something about all of this happening now is making you lose your mind. 

As soon as the class ended, relief entered your entire body. 

The relief certainly didn’t last for long, though. 

Since you did what Joaquín wanted to do that morning, he did what you wanted to do right after. Before you could even really think about it, you happily suggested sunbathing on the beach until you were too hot or hungry to continue, whichever came first. 

It wasn’t until Joaquín slyly grinned and sang your name that you realized what you signed up for. 

“You tryna see me shirtless?” he teased at the time. And you rolled your eyes and called him a freak and continued walking down the hall towards your rooms, but as soon as you were behind the closed door you were digging into your suitcase to find the cutest swimsuit you brought. 

Not that you were trying to impress Joaquín or anything. 

As soon as your bare toes are sinking into warm sand, you slowly feel yourself relax. Slowly. 

Laying on your back in a swimsuit that was a nice mix between cute and attractive, your eyes closed, your ears full of a playlist you made just for this occasion, the sun radiating down on your skin. It’s easy to forget everything laying just like that. The breeze cools your skin as soon as you get too warm, the sun heats you back up as soon as you get too cold. Absolutely nothing to worry about except how long you’ve been laying on one side and when you should flip over. 

Absolutely no stressors. 

Until Joaquín speaks. 

“Do me a favor and get my back?” 

You peek an eye open and lift your sunglasses up to see Joaquín standing next to you, holding out a bottle of sunscreen. 

You don’t mean to hesitate, but you still do. It takes a moment to process his question, and it takes another moment to find an answer, even though the clear one is yes. If he wasn’t standing there without a shirt, wearing forest green trunks that hung low on his hips, and his skin wasn’t glistening in the daylight, it wouldn’t have taken nearly half the time to help him out. 

“What would you do without me?” You try not to let your voice falter while you watch him massage sunscreen onto his chest, but you’re sure the little dip at the end of your sentence was noticeable. 

Joaquín just tilts his head and tosses the bottle into your lap.  

It’s not awkward. At least you don’t think it’s awkward. You rub the sunscreen on Joaquín’s skin as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the sturdiness of his muscles beneath your hand. You know how fit he is, it’s impossible for you not to know since you’ve been working with him for a while now. But knowing and knowing are two different things. 

Seeing is not the same as feeling. 

Feeling his muscles as you work them beneath your fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, grazing your hand lightly over the scars littering his skin, only lingering for a second on the life altering scar that trails down from the side of his neck to his shoulder. You try not to touch it too much. He hasn’t talked to you much about the accident, not since you visited the hospital with high quality food instead of flowers for him. Even then, he joked around it, even if you saw sorrow in his eyes like you’d never seen Joaquín wear before. 

You rubbed the sunscreen down his back and finished above the waistband of his trunks. Not even a second later did he look over his shoulder and down at you through a squint. “Now let me do you,” he urged without leaving much room for argument. 

Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t make room. 

You shook your head. “‘m okay, I already got it.” 

Joaquín turns around to face you completely. He laughs through a quick puff of air, his lips pulled up at the corners. “Barely. I saw you struggling over there. C’mon, let me top it off for you.” 

His hands take the sunscreen bottle from you, but he doesn’t put any in his palm. Not yet. For now, he stares at you, eyebrows lifted, waiting for you to give him the final answer. 

You turn around, moving whatever needs to be moved to give him basically full reign over your back. 

The first touch makes you jump, even if you were expecting it. You hear him quietly apologize under his breath, and you quietly brush it off, but you aren’t sure if your response was heard or if it was carried off with the wind. 

He continues in silence. 

You’ve had Joaquín’s hands on you before. A hand clasped in yours to pull you up, a touch fixing your posture when he was showing you a new trick Isaiah taught him before, a finger jabbed into your side when he walked past you. But again, this is much different. 

Having Joaquín’s bare hands on your bare back makes you tense up, and you hope he doesn’t notice it. He rubs with a lot more attention to detail than you did; he reaches beneath the straps of your top with curt permission, and even asks if he can get the backs of your arms too. 

By the time he finishes, you’ve started to relax just a bit, to the point where the expected disappearance of his hand on your back feels unwanted. Joaquín’s hands are big and soothing, you could do with them on your skin for the rest of your life. 

Of course, you don’t tell him that. Not just because it would be completely inappropriate, but because he would never let you live it down. He would go the lengths to change his phone contact to Joaquín “best hands there ever were” Torres. 

Which is just a step below Joaquín “best co-worker there ever was” Torres. 

Somehow, you manage to make it through the rest of the beach day without much trouble. You tan until you don’t think you could tan anymore. Joaquín lays next to you most of the time, besides when he began to feel fidgety and he ran to grab both of you drinks, and pre-cut fruit for you, as an excuse to stretch his legs. You used the few minutes of solitude to text your group chat about the agony you accidentally put yourself into. Agony that was only made worse by Joaquín coming back with two drinks in one hand, fruit still in its rind in the other, and his newly tanned skin glistening from sweat in the sunlight. 

Shortly after, you had to leave and take a cold shower to get your head on straight. 

You think you’re doing pretty good at ignoring your feelings. You know you have a crush on him, but acting on it would change nearly too much, and a lot in your lives—his especially—has already changed. It’s not a leap you think you’re ready to make yet, so you’ve been ignoring your feelings. 

Over the course of the past couple of days, you and Joaquín have been spending your time doing every relaxing thing you could think of. Decompressing at that same club from the first night, but leaving as soon as the crowd proved to be very different from before—more rowdy for the hell of it and less generous in general. Eating at trendy, overrated lunch spots, or underrated hole-in-the-wall dinner spots. Spending a little too much money on new clothes but enabling each other anyway, because the shirt might look similar to another one that you already have but that shirt back home wasn’t that shirt there in your hands, so you needed it. 

There were just two nights left and then you would have to pack all your stuff, somehow fit in more new clothes than you anticipated, and return to the real world. One that entailed mission debriefs and learning how to work new tech. The only thing you were looking forward to about the real world was Sam, since he happened to be a natural barrier between you and Joaquín. It’ll be hard to focus on how badly you wanted to be underneath the Falcon whenever Captain America was in the vicinity providing tasks that required your full attention. 

But that is days away. For now, you’re going to try and enjoy the remainder of your all too quick vacation as much as possible. Even though you’re becoming more and more tense as you go on, a tension that your fingers beneath your panties hasn’t been able to fix yet. 

You didn’t think your behavior was noticeable, but Joaquín notices more than you thought. 

The two of you are walking side by side down the boardwalk. You’ve been fairly silent throughout, but not for any particular reason. Silence made sense to you, there wasn’t much to talk about right now. 

Apparently, Joaquín felt different. 

“What’s up with you?”

You furrow your eyebrows, quickly trying to figure out if you did something wrong between the walk from your hotel to the walk at the start of the boardwalk. Coming up short, you ask for clarification. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean why’re you so tense? Isn’t this relaxing for you?”

Yeah, this is relaxing for you. Walking side by side, letting the beach breeze blow your dress in the wind. Showered, fed, at the end of your vacation, this moment you exist in is like heaven. It’s a little too much like heaven, a perfect plane where the guy you’ve been crushing on is wearing a button up with the first two buttons undone so you can see the fresh tan he has and the gold glint of the chain he wears instead of his dog tags. 

It’s hard to relax when right beside you is someone you’ve wanted so badly, and he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“I’m not tense,” you finally respond. Although it’s a lie. 

“You so are,” Joaquín counters, “let me show you what you look like walking around here.” He takes a few quick strides ahead of you, and then pulls his shoulders up to his ears, straightens his spine, and walks with a little too much purpose. He looks odd and menacing. And definitely not like you. 

You tell him as such. 

He turns around to face you, grinning and walking backwards. “Okay I did take some creative liberties there, but you do look tense.” He turns back around and slows until he returns to a stride right beside you again. “What’s wrong? Do you wanna do something else?”

You shake your head. “No. This is fine. I like doing this.” 

Joaquín takes a moment and you see him look down at you from the corner of your eye. “Then what’s up? Anything you wanna get off your chest?” 

God, you should just tell him the truth. Well, not the full truth. 

Joaquín is chill personified. If you told him that you’re wound up sexually, he would likely make a joke about it, then brush it off and avoid asking you about it again. Friend to friend, you could just let off some steam—verbally!, although the other option is much more preferable—and then hopefully feel better. 

But just imagining yourself saying those words makes you tense even more and you have nothing to do but shake the thought out of your mind completely. 

“No. ‘m okay. I was just … thinking. But not anymore.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second and you don’t know if he believes your lie. But he moves past it. He points to an ice cream shop to your right, and you swerve for the window. 

You and Joaquín end up sitting side by side on the beach, willingly letting sand press into your nice clothes but neither of you care much. You have a dinner reservation soon, and you’ve just been killing time—and also your appetite, but you and Joaquín both swore to eat dinner. Even if you’re devouring ice cream cones. Truthfully, this is a perfect way to end your night, sitting by your partner's side, letting the world exist around you both. 

The breeze blows against your skin. You and Joaquín sit with your bare toes digging into the sand, shoes having been discarded to the side, your shoulders close enough to brush against the other if either of you move. You’re looking off at the ocean, watching people enjoy the evening air around you both as you sit in a moment of stillness. There’s paragliders, a few jet skis, some boats, and a large cruise ship sailing into the port. 

Joaquín points off at the ship with the hand not holding his waffle cone.

“We should cruise for our next vacation.”

You turn to face him, tilting your head to the side. “Our next vacation?”

Joaquín nods. “Yeah. We should make this a regular thing. You know we work well together.” 

That you do. You grin and knock your shoulder into his.  “Let’s hope Sam doesn’t start feeling left out.”

Joaquín laughs with a quick exhale through his nose. “He’s definitely having the time of his life back home.” 

You’re unable to stop yourself from grinning as you imagine it—Sam working back home, likely enjoying the rare lull in the terror that the three of you have been fighting and will continue fighting. “He’s probably blasting Marvin Gaye over the speakers in the office.” 

This gets a real laugh from Joaquín, likely because he, too, can see it perfectly. 

Your laughter dies down and for a few moments, you and Joaquín sit in comfortable silence. 

Then, “You been having fun?” 

You hum. “Yeah. It’s nice not having to deal with—” you gesture vaguely in the air and Joaquín nods beside you. “Especially after everything.” You don’t say it exactly, but you know Joaquín still understands you. He knows you’re talking about his accident. 

You weren’t even the one in danger, having stayed grounded on the ship, but the horrors still settle deep in your heart some nights. Things are repaired, or currently being repaired in the case of D.C, but everything still feels so fragile to you sometimes. 

Which is why you’re so glad to be here with him at your side, reminding you that he’s okay. Everything’s okay. 

Joaquín takes a breath as if he’s about to speak. You turn to look at him. He’s staring off at the sunset, his face mostly stoic except for a slight twitch in his eyes, a flare of his nostrils, and his jaw clenching. “For a moment there when I was falling out of the sky, and when I could barely move my body on my own in the hospital I was worried that I wouldn’t get the chance to see places like this again. To … you know…” he hesitates and you’re about to tell him that he doesn’t have to keep going if he doesn’t want to. You and Joaquín have avoided talking about the day his heart stopped, and you don’t have to start now. But then he inhales through his teeth and continues. “To see home.” 

Your breath hitches and your eyes sting. Without thinking too much about it, you scoot closer into Joaquín’s side, tilting your head and resting it on his shoulder. Immediately upon contact, Joaquín wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you fully into his side. 

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Joaquín.” 

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he says your name at the end, echoing you but somehow sounding more earnest. More meaningful. 

He places a kiss on the top of your head and in that moment you decide you could stay here just like this for the rest of your life. It all settles in your body at one time, the realization that you want Joaquín, you’ve known that for a while, but you want more than his body. 

You want Joaquín Torres in his entirety. 

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” he continues, “Is that why you’ve been tense? Because I promise I’m okay. It was scary for a bit but my heart’s fine and I feel fine physically—”

“No. It’s not that, Joaquín. I promise I was just a little tense but I’m good now, too.”

He nods once. “Okay.” He pulls his phone out and checks the time. He doesn’t say anything for a while as if he doesn’t want to disrupt the energy, but he speaks eventually. “If we wanna make our reservation we gotta leave now.” 

He stands to his feet and puts a hand out for you to grab. You take a moment to look at the sun setting and to finish the rest of your ice cream in one bite, then you take another moment to look at him. With resolution, you place your hand in Joaquín’s and let him pull you to your feet. 

Yeah, ignoring your feelings isn’t working anymore. 

It’s not like you’re exactly able to ignore how bad you want Joaquín when you’re at dinner with him, sitting in such an intimate setting—sat at a small table tucked in the corner of the restaurant next to a window looking out on the street, his tan skin lit by candlelight and ambient low lighting around the both of you. 

Having just come from the beach, the two of you are still wearing the same outfits (now without as many grains of sand as possible), meaning you have an even better view of Joaquín’s chest and the chain sitting right below his collarbones. He looks so nice and put together—his curls out more than you’ve ever seen them before, his face a little unshaven and adding an older look to him. 

God, he’s so pretty, it’s impossible for you not to think so. Not when you’re faced with him like this. 

Joaquín’s looking at the menu, acting like he didn’t look at it on his phone two hours ago. You’re holding the menu open, acting like you’re still deciding between two options, when really you’re just trying to decide if you should make a move or not. 

When Joaquín looks up, you quickly look down, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting as you stare at words that aren’t processing.  

Joaquín calls your name and you hum without lifting your eyes. When he doesn’t say anything immediately, you glance up. Not only is he already looking at you, but he’s looking at you with a certain look in his eyes. Infatuation, admiration, something else that you don’t wanna name, for it feels like too much of a jump.

“What?” you ask, a shy grin splitting your face open as your skin starts to warm. 

Joaquín shrugs like he’s going to say the most casual thing ever. Instead, he tells you, “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you how pretty you look.”

Oh my godddd. 

What are you supposed to say to that? Everything thus far on this vacation has been widely platonic, and anything crossing that barrier has been nothing but a hopeful figment of your imagination. But his words, paired with the way they were delivered, feels like a step towards a future you want to live in. 

But maybe you’re overthinking it. Joaquín is honest and earnest when he wants to be and maybe now is one of those moments. 

You wrap your hand around your glass of ice water and bring it to your lips, pausing just long enough to respond. “What is it? The tan?”

Joaquín nods but that look in his eyes is still there. Chocolate brown dances across your figure before settling back on your own eyes. “Yeah … among other things. The tan and the color of your dress,” a bright colored fabric that hung loosely over your body and dipped around your back, you chose it especially because you knew it would look good on your skin, “and just you.” 

You gulp down water, trying to contain yourself. 

“Thanks, Joaquín,” you finally respond, trying to remain as casual as possible. “You look good, too.” 

Joaquín grins and you can see the man you’re used to coming back to himself. He tugs at the collar of his shirt and dusts off invisible particles. “I clean up well don’t I?”

You halfheartedly roll your eyes and return back to the menu. That interaction has already been catalogued for you to hyper analyze in the shower later. 

You thought that interaction was mind boggling, but the one you find yourself in later is ten times worse. 

You’ve both steadily worked through your plates, giggling and laughing about any and everything you could think of. The waiter mentioned the option of drinks at one point, and you looked to Joaquín for his reaction, wanting to see if that’s how the night was going to go. Not exactly as drunk as you were the first night, but at least a little buzz. When Joaquín politely shook his head, you did the same, and continued to sip your water instead. 

You do, however, decide to split two desserts. 

“Can I say something?” Joaquín speaks whenever he scrapes his fork across the decadent chocolate dessert sitting in the center of the table. 

You hum, grabbing a forkful of the fresher, citrus dessert instead. “Depends. How stupid is it gonna be?”

“Um … let me say it and then we can decide.”

You sit back in your seat, thereby giving him the floor. 

He takes his time chewing and swallowing before he goes to respond. “I’m shocked that we’ve been together every day and night of this trip.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What d’you mean?”

“Like we haven’t … been with other people.”

His words shock you. “Is that what you think of me, Joaquín?” 

You don’t feel upset, or particularly offended. You’re just a little confused on why Joaquín has been thinking about your sex life while the two of you have been on vacation together. Sure, you’ve been thinking of the same thing, but his sex life hasn’t exactly crossed your mind. Besides whenever you pictured the two of your sex lives merging into one. 

But now that he’s presented the idea, you, too, are shocked that things have been contained to just the two of you this entire week. It’s not that you expected Joaquín to sleep around, you actually didn’t know what to expect when it came to his dating life. You did know that Joaquín was attractive and people other than yourself thought so, and he obviously knew it as well, but it’s unexpected that you didn’t see him intentionally ogling at least one other person on your nights out. 

You don’t know why he would think the same of you, though. 

“No!” he’s quick to defend himself, “But I wouldn’t judge you if that’s how you wanted to spend your vacation. I mean I wouldn’t blame you.”

“You’re digging yourself further and further into a hole, Torres.” 

He laughs. “Yeah, I can tell.”

A moment goes by and you sip your water. The air here feels open, but certainly not casual. You feel like you can tell the truth in this intimate atmosphere, and your words would hold intentional weight. 

You take the jump. “I didn’t wanna be with anyone else. I liked being with you.”

Joaquín looks surprised. “Really? So you preferred beach trips and coffee shops and working out over a hot hookup?”

You shrug. “I haven’t been interested in hooking up with anyone else.” 

His eyebrows lift in the center. “Anyone else?”

Fuck. 

It seems you have joined Joaquín in that hole, but you don’t mind being here. It’s about time you did something, right? You don’t bother responding, at least not verbally. Instead, you just look at Joaquín over the rim of your glass, sincerely hoping that he’s starting to understand. 

Before any more progress can be made the waiter comes back with the check and you’re already reaching into your bag for your wallet, verbally chastising Joaquín before he can even reach for the bill. 

Quiet returns to you both during the walk back to your hotel. It feels natural this time, likely because you’re not speaking, but it isn’t silent. Cars against asphalt as they drive down the street beside you, music spilling out of establishments that line the way, the automated voice of the pedestrian crossing pole when Joaquín presses the button for the both of you. There’s not anything being said, but there doesn’t need to be; much is being communicated through the energy radiating off of your body. 

Walking closer to each other than you had ever before, elbows grazing, a lightness to your bodies even if you both indulged a little too much over dinner. Everything just feels so right, even if there’s still an emptiness inside of you. Even if you leave this trip without getting laid, you’ll still feel fulfilled because you and your partner are closer than you’ve ever been before. Though, after existing in this bubble with only him, it’s going to be hard to return to your normal life and let other people in. 

A car honks and skirts to a stop. Before you can even realize what just happened, Joaquín’s already throwing an arm over the front of your torso, his face turned to the car that almost (wrongfully) hit the two of you. He yells something at them and blindly grabs your hand, pulling you in front of him and pushing you to the sidewalk and out of the street. 

He mutters something under his breath, but you don’t hear it. “You good?” he asks at full volume. He stands next to you but still holds onto your hand. 

“Yeah. We’ve been through worse than almost getting floored by a Benz, right?”

He laughs and continues leading the way back to the hotel. 

Your hand stays in his the entire time.

You and Joaquín make it all the way inside of the hotel with your hands still clasped together. They don’t part until an unattended child runs between your bodies, forcing you to separate. 

You end up standing in front of the elevator with the up button pushed. It dings every few seconds, an indicator of its steady descent, but it makes a few stops along the way. While you wait, you lean your shoulder into the wall next to it, crossing your arms over your chest and your legs at the ankle as you look at Joaquín standing across from you. 

He speaks first. “You wanna go out again tonight?  End the week with a bang?”

You shake your head. Your eyes are big, your lips are pulled into a soft smile, your entire expression is soft. Fuck hiding it, you’re done pretending. 

“Nah. I’d rather stay in tonight.”

Joaquín nods and tucks his hands in his front pockets. “Alright. Together or separate?”

“Together.”

His eyebrows lift as if he’s shocked, but there’s a little glint in his eyes. You think he’s starting to catch on. 

“Okay,” he drags the last syllable out and shifts his stance. He clears his throat before he speaks again. “What d’you wanna do?”

The elevator door opens and you and Joaquín stand out of the way to let people come out. As soon as everyone has cleared out, the two of you enter the elevator alone and you push the button to shut the door before anyone else can come around the corner. With the doors closing you turn to face Joaquín to see him already looking at you. 

You smile up at him and he smiles down at you. 

You take a step closer to him and he takes a step closer to you. 

You reach a hand out to his face, hesitating, and then he nods just before he reaches a hand out and places it on your waist. 

And then finally, your lips press against his. 

The first kiss is tentative. It’s testing. Your lips press together, you stay like that for a moment, and then you pull away. The two of you stare at each other, Joaquín’s expression as soft and docile as it always is. You think you’re mirroring him in this moment. 

Then, without any words exchanged, you both move towards each other again. Your heads are tilted and without much trouble at all, your faces slot together nearly perfectly. This kiss is more exploratory. It’s open mouthed, teetering towards a messiness that you’re sure you’ll both fully succumb to by the end of the night. At least, you hope so. 

You don’t have much time, you’ve realized that as soon as the elevator dings the first time to indicate its ascent, therefore you’re trying to get what you can while you can. You throw your arms over Joaquín’s shoulders and hook them around his neck, pulling him down towards you as you tilt yourself up into him. His body curves to engulf yours in his warmth, but he kisses you like he has all the time in the world. 

He kisses you like he means it, like there’s more than one mutually shared goal at the end of this motivating him. 

It’s hard not to give in to the slow and longing way Joaquín kisses you. You don’t even try resisting it at a certain point. Instead, you press your chest up into his and lean up on your toes to get more of him, yet not initiating a change in the pace at all. You like the slow way Joaquín’s lips move against yours. You feel much more this way. 

Your fingers lay across the back of his neck and just as they start to inch up into the faded part of his haircut, the elevator dings and announces your floor. 

You and Joaquín separate with clear hesitance in the movement. The two of you stare at each other, unmoving, just looking in each other’s eyes. His eyes look darker than you’ve ever seen them before. If you got closer, you think you would see his pupils blown out. From here, though, you see his desire in other ways—the flush on his cheeks, the prominence of his chest rising and falling, the hint of your lip products that have rubbed off on his lips. 

The elevator door starts to shut and Joaquín is forced into making the first move. He slots his arm between the doors just before they close and he stays there when they open. He turns to look at you, tilts his head in a beckon, and holds his hand out for you to grab.

The walk to your rooms feels much longer than it usually does. You try to make it go as fast as possible, skittering ahead of Joaquín as fast as your impractical sandals would allow, but you’re trying not to look too eager all the while. Still, when you reach the number you’ve memorized for the week and turn around to look at him, he has a slight smile of amusement on his face. 

You’re already searching into your bag for your key when you ask, “Yours or mine?”

Joaquín reaches around you for the handle to the door without speaking. You watch him press the key card to the sensor and push the door handle down just as you feel your fingers find the piece of plastic. 

“We gave each other one of each when we checked in, remember? Just in case.” comes his unprompted explanation. And now that you’ve been reminded, you do remember. Your key to Joaquín’s room has been sitting on the dresser forgotten the entire week. You know he wouldn’t have done it, not without your explicit consent, but you wish Joaquín had used the key to his advantage once this week. You wish he would have acted on the tension between you both, the tension that you’re finally realizing has been reciprocated this entire time. 

But now it’s happening. There’s no reason to complain when you’re getting what you wanted. 

His hands are on your hips as he leads you into the room, your bag is thrown to the floor and your shoes are kicked off of your feet. Your body is turned at his will, your eyes meet his as he lazily grins  down at you. His tongue flicks out over his lips in a quick and smooth movement, and at a much slower pace, you lean back in to press your lips back to his. 

Joaquín’s hands automatically latch onto your lower back, one warm palm pressed into the thin fabric of your dress and the other settling right on your bare skin in the opening. Meanwhile, you start working on his shirt, popping button after button through the holes. You stop when you’re halfway down, not on your own accord. 

You’re forced to stop when Joaquín slots his hands behind your thighs and he easily lifts you up. You squeal into the kiss on instinct. 

There’s a moment where both of you are grinning against each other’s lips and it just feels so right. It feels incredibly natural to be doing this, to be smiling when you’re kissing Joaquín, even though nearly everything else about this situation isn’t natural for the two of you (your erect nipples rubbing against his chest, your panties stuck to your cunt, the very faint brush of his cock stiff in his pants that you get on the journey up). 

“You’re just showing off,” you half-heartedly chide. 

Joaquín shrugs and walks you back to the bed. “Maybe just a little.” He places you down, kneeling between your legs and finishing off the remaining buttons on his shirt. “You love it, though.”

You don’t admit it verbally, but the way you shamelessly ogle his chest when he pulls the shirt off says everything. 

As soon as his shirt is gone, he places a hand on your ankle, slowly inching your dress up a few inches before he stops and looks at you. His expression is open, you can tell what he’s asking without words. But for good measure, he includes them. 

“Can I keep going?”

You nod, eager and unashamed. “Yeah. Keep going.”

He starts to push the bright fabric further and further up your legs, speaking to you as he continues. “You gotta let me know if …” his words taper off when he sees the first hint of your panties, and you don’t know exactly what he’s seeing, but it makes him speechless for a moment and your ego inflates. 

“I’ll let you know if …?” Cockiness is audible in your words but he doesn’t comment on it. 

Joaquín blinks and comes back to himself. “If you wanna stop, or if you want something changed. We gotta communicate.” 

“M’kay.” 

And with that, Joaquín pushes the fabric completely over your hips and he’s met with your panties. They’re a bright color that compliments the color of your dress, and, consequently, your tanned skin. He swears under his breath and although you don’t hear him clearly at all, you’re pretty sure it wasn’t in English. 

You sit up fully and slip your dress over your torso with Joaquín’s help. He lets the fabric drop to the floor without looking, his eyes are focused solely on your chest. 

You’re laying back on your elbows, elevated just enough to look at him. You stare at his eyes, even if you aren’t making eye contact, while he leans up to hover over you. His head dips and he presses a single kiss in the center of your chest and repeats the action right over each side of your ribcage. The tip of his nose grazes your breast and instinctively you arch up towards him. When he pulls away just enough to look up at you, you see him smiling.

You could beg, but the night has only begun. You decide to save that for later. For now, you huff and stick your spine back to the mattress. 

Joaquín places a hand around your side and dips his head back down, this time higher than before. When he latches his lips around your nipple, a little gasp breaks from between your lips. He lets his teeth scrape against the bud, alternating between giving you pressure and giving you wet heat from his tongue. By the time he switches to your other nipple, you’re already desperate for a true relief focused on your cunt. His lips travel upwards, brushing against your skin throughout the journey, until he’s pressing them into the side of your neck and under your jaw. You let him continue upwards, you let him kiss you a bit more, but you can only go so long without real, fruitful stimulation. And maybe another time after this (circumstances willing) you would love to prolong everything. 

But right now you need to get fucked, whatever that could entail. 

You buck your hips up and end up catching the bulge in Joaquín’s pants where his zipper lies. You think he’ll catch on that way, and maybe he does, but he just chooses to ignore it. Either way, you send him a hint and Joaquín doesn’t do anything about it. He continues kissing you, he tweaks your nipples and slots a knee between your legs, all of which you’re grateful for since it is a stepping stone in the right direction. But you need stimulation, you need to get off, and the slow crawl is slowly driving you crazy. 

You pull away from Joaquín to call his name. He responds with a gruff yeah that immediately settles deep in your gut. 

“I need more. Please.” 

He grins right in your face. The expression almost looks wicked on him for the first time ever. He has the power here right now and he’s obviously letting it go to his head. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asks while his hand slides down between your bodies until his thick fingers can slip between your clothed folds. 

His question was rhetorical (and smug but that’s besides the point), yet you still find yourself going to respond. Your lips part, you can feel the corners turning down as you prepare to say something just as smug back to him, but then he presses down and quickly finds your clit after a moment of fumbling. As far as words go, you’re silent. Nothing but sounds slip from your mouth from that point onwards. 

Joaquín toys with your clit. He starts with one finger, just the pad of what you think might be his middle finger, and when that has you forcing your hips up into his touch, he adds a second finger. With two fingers, he has more space to work with, resulting in larger circles right over the most sensitive part of you. He speeds up, too. 

Your back arches and you dig your nails into the sheets. You know what you want to ask for, it's simple and you’d already said the word in this space, but it gets trapped in your throat this time. You’re close already. Yeah, you’d been getting yourself off throughout the week, but finally having Joaquín do it for you has made you so much more responsive. 

You get the first syllable out, the ‘M’ vibrating in your throat before you open your mouth to round it out in an ‘O’. 

Joaquín picks up where you left off. 

“More?” he asks, eyebrows lifting as he holds your heavy gaze. Before you even respond with a nod, he’s already sitting back far enough to slip his hand in your panties and repeat his emotions. 

The first real touch dizzies you for a moment. You pinch your eyes shut with the pure intention of orienting yourself, but then Joaquín chastises you in a soft, but firm voice. 

“Look at me. I wanna see you.” 

You do as told, of course. 

He nods. “There we go.” His fingers get just a little faster, the circles tighter. You’re so wet that there isn’t any uncomfortable friction at all, his skin easily glides against yours. 

“You close?” he asks after a moment. When you nod, he continues, “If I give you this one, you’ll be able to give me another, right? You can give me more?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You’re breathless when you speak, and it certainly doesn’t help that it’s then when Joaquín decides to pull his fingers away completely, pull your panties to the side, and sink down completely until his face is level with your cunt. 

Just the image below you is enough to twist that section deep into your stomach into a knot. He’s barely able to give you anything before your back is arching off of the bed and everything in you mounts to a peak. 

When you come, it’s from the controlled and effective licks Joaquín delivers to your cunt. You don’t know when your hand moves on its own, but you feel silk-like strands between your fingers. It helps anchor you, gripping his hair helps keep you sane, especially when Joaquín keeps going. 

He broadens his reach this time. His mouth opens wide enough to slide his tongue down from your entrance and back up towards your clit. And he doesn’t just lick this time, you hear the audible suck from him. He’s slurping that shit, and you can already feel the introduction of another orgasm. 

If you were with anyone else, you’d be shocked at how soon another is on the precipice. But it’s Joaquín, and aside from the fact that you’ve wanted him for a while, you’re not exactly shocked that he knows what he’s doing. 

He slowly sinks one finger into you, pumping the digit in and out of you with meticulous ease. It’s a stark contrast from the almost sloppy way he’s eating you out. But it works. 

One finger is nice, it’s thicker than your own, rougher, too. You could get off just like that. And then, he adds a second. 

“Fuck,” you swear without any conscious intention. 

Joaquín comes up for air, releasing you with an audible smack. “Yeah?” he asks, the word coming from right in his throat. 

You nod as you take in the way he looks—cheeks flushed, hair tousled and hanging over his forehead, pink lips shining, his eyes wide and nearly doe-like. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. You see a look flash in Joaquín’s eyes then. It’s a look similar to the one he has whenever Sam affirms his work with a clap on the back—self-satisfied, delighted, proud. It occurs to you then that he doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. He can read your body language, sure. It’s obvious from your cunt, along how good he’s making you feel, but you know verbal affirmation is different. It’s better, especially for Joaquín. 

As he goes back in to finish you off, you speak to him.

“Just like that,” you tell him. Just this little bit encourages him, you can feel it in his movements.  “Keep going. ‘M close, so close, Joaquín. Please, don’t stop. You’re so … you’re so—” Before you can even get it out, all noise dies completely from you. Your mouth uselessly hangs open, not even air comes out as your entire body stiffens. Nothing happens for a moment, Joaquín continues, you’re stuck, and then a nanosecond later everything knocks into you. 

Sound emits from you, moans and groans and breaths. You’re digging into whatever you can find—the heel of your foot into Joaquín’s back, your hands in his hair, the rest of your body into the twisted sheets beneath you. You’re simultaneously trying to escape and trying to keep Joaquín from parting with you for even a moment. It’s hard to decide which you prefer, you don’t even think your mind has any say in the dilemma, your body is in control at this point. 

Ultimately, your body decides to let go, releasing both of you at the same time. Still, Joaquín takes a moment to pull from you. He continues licking and sucking, but his fingers slowing down indicates his intent to free you. It comes after a few drawn out moments where you’re stuck twitching beneath him until finally, he pulls his fingers out of you and presses one final kiss right onto your clit. 

His head lifts and the evidence is more obvious than you expected. It’s gathered all over his chin, stuck along the beginnings of facial hair that will likely be gone first thing Monday morning. It’s gathered on his lips and along his tongue when he uses the muscle to pull the remnants of your arousal into his mouth. 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and only then does he realize how much of a mess you’ve made of him. He pulls his hand back, brown eyes big as he stares at the evidence. 

“Shit,” he laughs. 

All you can do is agree through labored breaths. 

He tries to clean you off of his mouth, but not much is done. He leans in tentatively after that, as if you’re going to shy away from him. You don’t. 

You kiss him back eagerly, although a bit lethargically. You’re trying to hide it from fear that Joaquín could think that you’re done. But your body needs a moment to recover from that. 

When Joaquín pulls away from you with a small smile on his face, you know he’s onto you. 

“You need a minute?” The way he says it isn’t much different from the way he asks you those same words when he’s kicking your ass in the gym. 

And just like when you’re in the gym, you shamefully nod. 

Joaquín chuckles and leans in to kiss your forehead. “That’s okay. You want anything? Water maybe?” 

“Water sounds good.” 

You watch him leave and then your eyes are focused solely on the ceiling. You can’t even let what’s happening sink in when you’re still a little spacey. But you can handle more. You want more from him. 

Joaquín comes back with a glass of water. He stands next to the bed and passes the full glass to you. You don’t question the source, you just drink until there’s half left. You offer it to him and he gladly takes it from you. 

“Are you … do you wanna stop?” He speaks when the glass has been emptied and placed on the nightstand. For the most part he looks like he would be unaffected by whatever answer you gave, but you think you can detect some premature dejection in his features. Quickly, he adds, “Because it’s fine if you do. I’m okay with that.” And he’s being honest. You don’t feel any pressure coming from Joaquín at all. 

It’s what you truly mean and want when you immediately shake your head. “No. Let’s keep going.” 

He nods once to himself. “Alright. Cool. Yeah.” 

Excitement leaks from his pores but you don’t comment on it. You felt just as he did not long ago. You still feel like that, but you’re under a haze right now and that’s what your emotions are being led with. 

Joaquín hooks his thumbs into his already-loosened jeans and goes to pull them down. First, though, he pats at his pockets. When he doesn’t feel what he’s looking for, he swears. 

“One second.”

You watch his form retreat until the door of your room is pulled open. Not even a minute later he comes back in with a foil pocket brandished between his fingers, the same fingers that were in you not long ago. 

“You came prepared?” The question comes out more judgemental than you meant it to. 

Joaquín shrugs. “I keep an emergency bag full of … stuff. You know, in case of an emergency.” 

“Freak.” You don’t mean it. 

“You’re about to get fucked by a freak so, wouldn’t that make you a freak by association?” He seems to mean it. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

He holds the packet between his teeth while he slides his jeans off of his legs, stepping out of them and leaving them at the foot of the bed. He comes back around to the side, pulling the packet out from his teeth and staring down at you. Like this he looks more imposing than he ever has before. 

When he’s been out in the field, when he’s training, when he yelled at the car earlier tonight, he didn’t look as imposing as he does now—staring down at you over the bridge of his nose, hair tousled, cock tenting in his black briefs. 

“That’s definitely how that works,” he claims as he leans down. He presses his hands into the bed beneath you to leverage himself as he kisses you, slow and passionate. You wonder if he’ll fuck you like that too. 

You reach a hand up and pull the elastic away from his waist. When he doesn’t react, you tug the fabric down. You feel it get stuck around his cock just before you feel his cock spring free. It brushes against your wrist and you make a little noise into the kiss. 

As soon as Joaquín’s briefs are laying at his feet he assumes his previous position, this time sitting right on his haunches. You avoid looking at his cock for a moment, but when you watch him tear the condom packet open, you get the first glimpse at him. 

Even this part of him is attractive. He’s thick, that’s the first thing you notice. Thick and heavy, if the way he hangs to the side is any indicator. There’s a vein leading from his taut stomach down towards the dark and trimmed thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You hadn’t noticed the vein ever before, not when you had been too busy ogling the v-line chiseled into his torso instead. 

Now that you’ve seen all of Joaquín, you can easily conclude that he’s perfect. Just as you have that thought, Joaquín takes an inhale as he prepares to speak. 

“You’re so perfect,” he says. 

The warmth instantly floods your body. 

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” you tell him. 

He dips his head almost shyly and doesn’t say anything. Instead, Joaquín pulls the condom out of the packet. 

“Wait. Lemme do it. Can I do it?” 

He looks momentarily surprised at your request, but he passes you the condom and politely places his hands on top of his thighs. 

It’s truly an excuse to feel him beneath your palm as you glide the latex barrier down his length. You revel in the warmth beneath your hand, because as soon as you’ve secured the barrier around the base of his shaft, Joaquín's leading you back without even having to touch you. He leans forward and in response, you lean all the way back until you’re nestled amongst the pillows at the head of the bed. 

“Ready?” 

You nod, letting your legs fall open for him. 

One warm hand falls to the inside of your thigh while the other disappears between your legs to line up his dick. Then, slowly, Joaquín pushes forward. The stretch is instant, you can feel yourself opening up wider and wider to fully fit him in. If you weren’t as soaked and prepped as you were, you’re sure the burn would’ve been way worse. 

For a few moments it’s like the length of him keeps going and going, but then you feel his thighs press up against the back of yours and there’s the faint feeling of his balls resting against your ass and you know he’s bottomed out. He looks at you, gauging your reaction, and your response comes in the form of linking a leg around his back.

Joaquín smiles through nothing but the twitch of the corner of his mouth upwards, and then he wastes no more time. He rests his weight on his hands at either side of your head, and pulls his hips back just to roll them forward and slide his cock back into you. 

And for a bit, Joaquín does fuck you slow and passionate. He fucks you in full strokes, a nice tempo that doesn’t overwhelm you too quickly. There’s punctuation at the end of each thrust, followed by a nearly agonizing pull back out. Whether intentional or not, Joaquín’s introducing you to the feeling of his cock filling you up, just as he’s introducing the concept of another release to you. 

But you’ve had your fill, it’s his turn now. 

You press your hands into his shoulders. They glide back, one hand grazing over the raised skin of the scar that leads down his back, the other following a smooth path, but they meet in the same place—back around the front to where his chain hangs. You hook one finger into the gold link, the other going behind his head. You pull him closer until you can nudge your noses together. 

His eyes flutter shut and his eyebrows pinch together in the center. You kiss him once and pull back to tell him, “You can use me, Joaquín. Take what you want.”

His eyes open to stare at you with confusion written on his face, bordering on hope, as if he already has an idea formed in his head of what he really wants to do to you. 

You nod assuredly. “It’s what I want.” Just as you’re about to add a quiet plea to seal the deal, Joaquín adjusts his position and then he pulls nearly all the way out of you, only to forcefully drive back into you. 

The switch is immediate. He still fucks you in complete motions, but they’re shorter, no longer the tip to the shaft each time. These are faster, much faster. It feels like he’s reaching up into your guts each time, just to pull back and do it again and again and again. 

You’re forced to find purchase again, hands digging into whatever you can find. One hand attaches to his hair and the other holds onto his chain, your legs have linked around Joaquín’s hips, your head has craned backwards, leaving the area between the base of your neck and your chest open for Joaquín to rest his forehead on. 

You can’t hear his sounds over yours, but you feel them—quick breaths let out onto the sweat coated area of your chest. You would try and silence yourself to better hear him, but you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Luckily, though, Joaquín lifts his head and notches his nose against the side of your neck instead. He kisses you right beneath your earlobe, but when he can no longer complete that action, his jaw goes slack and every single noise he makes travels directly to your ear. 

You swear and it comes out as a whimper, not even a second later Joaquín swears and it’s a deep groan all the way from the back of his throat. You call his name and he calls yours. He’s affecting you, and you’re affecting him, even just by laying back and urging him to get himself off by using your body.

“Are you close?” you eventually gather the strength, and will, to ask. 

You feel Joaquín nod against your neck. “Yeah,” he confirms, “yeah, baby, ‘m almost there.” 

Your reaction is instant. You groan, a sound that could be interpreted as frustration if you weren’t having your guts completely rearranged right now. 

He chuckles deeply against your skin. “What? What’s up?”

“C…Call me that again.”

“What? ‘Baby’? You like when I call you baby?” 

You hum affirmatively. 

Joaquín lifts his head and slots one hand against your cheek. His pace slows as he stares at you. “You’re my baby? Hm? Are you?” 

You nod, whining out an “uh-huh”. 

“Yeah?” he grins as he says it, as if he’s shocked that you agreed. You don’t know if he’s serious, if he knows that his words are holding weight even if you’re a little dumb right now, but you do mean it. 

He licks his lips and you see an idea coming to his head. “You gonna be good for me, too?” When you nod, he continues. “Be good for me, baby, and touch yourself, alright?”

He gives you the space needed and watches your hand slide down your stomach. When you use two fingers to tweak your already overstimulated clit, Joaquín nods. 

“That’s right. Just like that.” 

He resumes his original pace, this time with his eyes fully locked on your cunt. He pulls one of your legs up and throws it over his shoulder, leaning forward to get even deeper into you. 

You’re close, you’re almost there, and the erratic way Joaquín practically jackhammers into you as he chases his own release is what pushes you over. You finish just after Joaquín buries himself into you and curls his body over yours. This orgasm truly feels like a release. Everything in you melts into the world around you, just as Joaquín’s body melts on top of yours. 

He kisses the skin closest to him, first in small almost discrete pecks, and then they gradually get bigger and more audible until he’s clearly making them ridiculous on purpose. 

His cock is still nestled in you and his head is still resting on your chest when he speaks. “You think you’ll be up for a shower?”

You hum, letting the question run through your head for a minute before responding. “In about ten minutes, yeah.” 

“Take your time.”

In the meantime, Joaquín slowly slides out of you. The emptiness is immediate, but after all you’ve been through since getting back to your room, you don’t exactly hate it. Your eyes start to feel heavy but you let them close for a little while. You rely on your other senses throughout. 

The feeling of Joaquín kissing over where you think your bikini tan lines are, the rim of the glass that he brings to your lips, the sound of his voice as he gently urges you to drink, the feeling of cool water sliding down your throat. He holds you steady as you drink with a hand behind your head. Your lips turn up tiredly, and you feel his thumb at the corner of your lip catching a stray drop of water. You don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s wearing that same soft look on his features.

You’re so pampered there that you don’t force yourself to get up until you hear the shower running. 

Joaquín’s already there waiting for you at the door. He smiles when he sees you as if he’s shocked that you came, even though this is your room and your bathroom. Still, he reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you into the bathroom and in front of him. His hands push at your back, guiding you towards the shower. He pulls the door open for you and lets you step inside before he follows after you. 

You reach for the towel and soap, but stop when he tuts behind you. 

“I got it,” is all he says. So you let yourself completely relax with the feeling of Joaquín dragging the cloth up and down your limbs. He talks to you throughout, mostly asking you to lift an arm or turn around, sometimes bringing up small bits of conversation, every now and then singing bits of songs—some that you recognize, some that you don’t. There’s a familiarity now that you’ve gained since his hands had massaged sunscreen into your shoulders. 

Eventually, though, he finishes with you, leaving you to lean against the wall and watch him shower.

“You know what I realized like a few minutes ago?” he says when he’s rinsing the soap off of his body. 

“What?”

“Remember the couple from the club that first night? The one who kept buying us drinks?”

“Yeah, how could I forget?”

“Yeah well I’m pretty sure they thought we were like … swingers or some shit.”

You’re startled awake. “Huh? Why do you think that?”

“Oh I don’t think, I know. The guy gave me his number and everything. Plus you saw the way they were looking at us, and the woman kept cozying up to you.”

You frown. “I thought she was just drunk or friendly.”

“She definitely was drunk and friendly. And she also wanted you.” 

You blink. “I thought she wanted you.”

Joaquín shrugs and rinses the last of the soap from his back before he shuts the water off. “She probably did. That’s sort of part of the whole swingers gig, isn’t it?”

You laugh through a quick exhale of air. “Come on, Joaquín, let’s go to bed.” 

You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body. Joaquín follows after you. 

“Oh, I get to sleep with you tonight?” He sounds giddy when he says it, as if he wasn’t just fucking you so good that your legs are still getting used to walking again. When you tell him that, you see the unintended compliment go straight to his head. 

You end up getting exactly what you wanted. Joaquín leans into the bathroom counter with the towel hung low around his waist and his eyes watching you do your skincare routine. As soon as you’re finished, he’s trekking off to his room for a change of clothes and to do whatever he needs to do, and he comes back in nothing but boxers with a big shirt in his hand. He lays it on the counter for you casually, but you see the tips of his ears tinted just a tiny bit red when he retreats back to your room. 

You come out in his shirt to see him lying on your side of the bed, the remote in his hand and pointed at the TV. As if the entire trip had been going like this the entire time, he instantly scoots over when you come to the side of the bed and lifts the sheets for you to climb under. You lay curled into his side, telling him to click a channel playing a movie that you know he likes. 

The remote is placed on the nightstand, the lights are clicked off and you’re snuggled up next to Joaquín, wearing his shirt and talking about how the two of you are going to spend your last day of vacation. 

Not everything goes how you thought it would, though. Joaquín ends up being pretty mindful with his blanket usage. 

[slttygeto]

Hot Ones! With Suguru Geto & (Name)!

pairing: music producer/singer! Suguru x singer! fem! reader

genre: fluff, crack.

📊 Video Stats

12M views| 350K likes| 87K comments

Geto Suguru was almost like an urban legend. No one knew if he actually existed—I mean, he had to if his voice could be hard on almost every trending song. 

But he never ever made an appearance. Not on any talk show, interview or even famous award shows he had been invited on to win. 

And so logically, no one knew a single thing about the famous producer/singer. They only knew his birthday because Gojo Satoru, a famous actor and his childhood best friend, would always post him while covering his face. 

Which would set the internet on fire for at least two weeks after.

The picture showed that Suguru Geto was a man with a large build, almost as tall as Satoru himself. He had two sleeve tattoos that were barely visible in the picture but enough for people to comment ‘as if this man wasn’t attractive enough’. They can only make out that he has long dark hair, tied in a bun with a long strand of hair dangling on the side. 

However, when Satoru posts his best friend this year to celebrate his 33rd birthday, the internet can’t help but fixate on a detail they hadn’t seen before. Something that was never able to appear because Suguru always hid his hands in his pockets, a shiny band wrapped around his ring finger that was visible to the camera because the producer was jokingly choking his best friend.

Suguru Geto was married, and the internet needed to find out who the lucky person was. 

—

“This week on hot ones! Geto Suguru and (Name) will play a hot game. Tune in tomorrow at 8PM, ET!”

The tweet goes viral the moment that it gets posted. The picture used shows you and Suguru with your backs facing the camera wearing a Hot Ones T-shirt and pointing with your thumbs to the logo. 

And when the video finally gets uploaded, people are losing their minds.

“Welcome to Hot Ones!” You are already sitting on your stool when Suguru finally joins you, sitting across from you at the table. “On a scale from 1 to 10, how excited are you?” You pretend to shove a mic his way and he chuckles.

“4.”

You gasp dramatically, placing your left hand on your chest to show off your wedding ring as well. “Four? How disappointing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Suguru keeps eyeing you as you look at the plate of hot chicken wings and the bottles of hot sauce. “Are you excited?”

“I’m doing it with you, so yeah.” You flash him a grin before scooting closer to the table. 

You had been in the music industry for a while—in fact, you were known to be one of the few artists who gradually rose to fame. Suguru’s producer tag was a recurring theme in your songs.

Suguru produced more than five albums of yours before you decided to chime in and teach yourself some skills of your own. So a couple of years into your career, people never suspected that there was ever something going on between you and the producer.

Despite the signs being there.

He would hop on songs that were intimate, songs where you’d explicitly express the wild rollercoaster which was your sex life. Romantic songs that showed how happy you were, how this one person was finally worth you giving love a second try. 

And yet people never put two and two together.

Not until this video at least.

“Okay so it’s either I answer the question or I eat a hot wing?”

“Not quite,” you grab the cards before shuffling through them. “You eat the hot wing anyway, and you have to answer the questions.”

“...did you just make that up?”

“Because I know you’ll avoid answering the questions!”

And just based on your demeanor and how comfortable you are whining to the man, the audience could tell that the dynamic between the two of you was the result of years of knowing each other. 

“I’m still not doing that” 

“First question, you have been in the music industry for quite some time—some might even consider you to be a legend–”

Suguru snorts. “That’s an exaggeration.”

“Describe an instance where you didn’t feel like working with an artist because they were being difficult.” You laugh as you read through the question. The internet doesn’t know this about your husband, but he tends to be brutally honest. You lean back in your chair and watch as he carefully thinks about the question.

“Honestly–”

“Suguru!” you warn him, giving him the look that makes a chuckle escape him.

“Alright then, which sauce should I use?” 

—

“Okay princess,” Suguru shuffles through his cards now, carefully picking the first question. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” 

“What is your least favorite song that I produced?” Your jaw drops at his question, covering your mouth while your husband is having the time of his life. He knew how hard it was for you to tell the truth when it could risk hurting someone else—especially when that person was your spouse.

“I can’t do that!”

The tall man gestures towards your plate. “Then eat a hot wing,” 

You think about it for a good ten seconds, eyeing the plate of chicken wings and the hot sauce that made your husband sweat so much his cheeks were flushed. 

Fuck it. 

“...the light is coming.” 

“The light is coming.”

Your eyes widen when you hear him answer at the same time as you, his shoulders shaking as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“If you knew it then why would you ask me?!”

“Because I needed you to come clean once and for all.” Suguru wipes a stray tear, still laughing. Then he turns to the camera. “Every single time someone brings up that song, you can see her face drop. She’s denied it for so many years, but the truth has finally come out.”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“Okay final question,” he grabs the last card, and you notice a smirk painting his features. “Favorite thing about me?”

“Is that actually the question?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. Suguru then shows you the card.

“I don’t lie, darling.”

“I can’t pick one thing,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, gazing lovingly at your husband. “But if I could really choose, I would say that you are unapologetically you and I wouldn’t change it for the whole world.” 

After a beat of silence and a shared loving look, Suguru finally speaks up.“You know, I was going to tease you and say ‘I know one thing you really like about me’ but your answer is so wholesome I feel like a teenage boy.”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe you.”

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [somethingsgottagive]: THE (Name) AND THEEEE SUGURU ARE MARRIED??? (6k likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: Oh my god we are so blind (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: their wedding rings im going to cry (7,3K likes)

💬 [theboyismine]: they suit each other so well im:(((( (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [theboyismine]: the perfect dynamic

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: this is what dream thought his face reveal would be like (923 likes)

💬 [albumoftheyear]: revealing his face AND whom he’s married to in one day is crazy (508 likes)

💬 [cmontryme]: can someone check on that (name) and suguru fanpage we were all clowning. I fear they were right (392 likes)

💬  [name&suguru4life] replied to  [cmontryme]: I TOLD YALL AND NO ONE BELIEVED ME

💬 [cmontryme] replied to [name&suguru4life]: we owe you a big apology

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[fortunapre]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬...Is Way Too Complicated [2]

SUMMARY y/n finds a solution to her ex coming back into the picture- one that involves her best friend and a fake relationship...

(multiple face claims) (pt 1. here) (fluff, tiny angst if you squint)

2 days later, and neither Y/n nor Oscar had made any progress on acknowledging their feelings. Even the internet and gossip columns knew more about it then each other….

instagram

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y/nusername honey im homeeee

view comments

y/nbff: see you on sunday!

mclarenhq: nice to see you again (especially in orange)

oscarpiastri: yeehaw 🤠

➥︎ y/nusername: sybau 💕

➥︎ oscarpiastri: what….?

➥︎ y/nusername: 😘

➥︎ landonorris: @oscarpiastri icl u pmo

➥︎ oscarpiastri: WHATTTTTTT ARE YOU SAYING

A walk around the paddock in good ol’ Austin Texas on Qualifying day was enough to make any sane person feel dizzy.

The heat! Oh god, the heat was terrible on the Saturday of qualifying. y/n felt like the sun was somehow targeting her directly. Her skin was hot to the touch and her hairline was sweaty.

The only thing rivaling the southern sun was the people. Imagine standing in 100F degree weather and then add in hundreds of thousands of people.

The American flag was everywhere, flying above, on posters, or plastered to sweaty skin and paired with the smallest shorts possible.

This race was definitely one of the most stress inducing for any guest.

Y/n wasn’t just any guest though. No, she had a past with this track. This town. It was something she swore she’d never return to after what happened. However, this time is different and she is a changed woman.

After all, she has Oscar.

imessges- Y/Ns POV

When y/n tapped on Oscar’s location it opened up to the Mclaren hospitality. Thank god she knew where that was.

After getting through crowds of people and the security, she finally reached the main entry. There, she saw Oscar on his phone, at the other side of the room. He was definitely a sight for sore eyes: he was wearing his racing suit tied around his waist (y/n’s favorite race look), and his messy hair was tucked into an orange cap with his number. Y/n was definitely staring, but she couldn’t pull her eyes from his side profile and how the sun was shining right on him from the window. Thankfully, he never looked up from his phone and caught y/n ogling him.

Then, before walking over to him, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention: standing a few feet away from Oscar, was y/n’s latest heartbreak.

What the hell is he doing at McLaren?

Her ex had a pair of Mclaren garage headphones on, and was animatedly talking with an engineer. When he turned to the side to face the screens, she caught sight of a VIP Guest Access Pass hanging from his neck.

Y/n immediately backed out of the room, before her ex could see her. She walked fast, and kept going straight ahead, too afraid to look back.

Eventually y/n pushed open a nearby door to a- thankfully- empty meeting room.

She exhaled a relieved breath and locked the door behind her. She slid her back down the door and cringed at the memory of him resurfacing.

She was so overwhelmed with the sight of her ex because the wound was still fresh- she hadn’t actually seen him in person since he dumped her over the phone like an asshole. Instead of sadness or anxiety, y/n felt mostly angry.

Angry at her ex and the memories... but mostly angry at how she was reacting. This whole coming-back-to-F1 thing was supposed to help her, not make her panic.

She sat by the door for a few more seconds and counted her breaths until she was ready to go out again. She tried to let her mind clear and let in some more calming thoughts. The thought about her love of F1, her family, and how she has other people that care about her. Like Oscar...

Oscar!

Y/n suddenly remembered that she just left him back there and he was probably waiting for her.

After counting to about 30-something, to quickly regain confidence, she stood up, smoothed her jean skirt, and opened the door.

“Y/n!” In front of her was not an empty hallway but her closest friend who she was about to go find. “I, uh, I saw run out and go in here,” Oscar said while tilting his head to look behind her into the empty room, probably wondering why she was in there.

Oscar looked back and his eyes settled on y/n again. He blatantly gave her a once-over, looking her up and down-he was both making sure she was ok and partially checking her out. She was wearing cowboy boots, a short jean skirt that showed off her legs, and most importantly- a McLaren shirt.

He cleared his throat, remembering where they were, and spoke again. “Are you ok?” Oscar's face changed into one of concern where he squinted his eyes a bit. Y/n almost smiled at how cute it was.

Y/n felt heat go to her cheeks at the intrusive thought.

She really didn't want to talk about everything right now, so she decided to just play it off. “Yeah, of course I’m ok, it’s qualifying and you, my friend is about to get pole!” She put her arm through his and walked together away from the empty room.

She was trying to seem as unfazed as possible and change the subject, but Oscar could see through her mask.

“Y/n…” Oscar gave her a pointed look and stopped them again in the middle of the hallway. His eye contact almost made it seem like he was looking through her- like he could see everything she was thinking. “Come on, give me more credit than that," he spoke softly.

“Really, Osc. I’m good, I just needed to take a break from the billions of naked people.” Y/n answered with a gentle smile and joking laugh, pushing down a random thought about how Oscar's eyes were so easy to drown in.

Oscar took his hand off of y/n and grimaced. “Ok first of all, that’s a horrible image to put in my mind, second of all, there are a few topless people but no one's naked. Then…” He became suddenly distracted by something behind her.

A man he's seen walking around Mclaren was weirdly staring at them, or more specifically at y/n.

“Third of all?” y/n continued for him, breaking his trance. Oscar shook his head like he was erasing a thought.

“Third of all….” Oscar began again and smiled big. “You are shit at lying.”

“Ughh.” Y/n put her head down in defeat. She moved closer to Oscar and rested her head on his chest.

Oscar smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. However, while her head was in his chest, Oscar took a second glance at the man down the hall. He was gone now, no longer standing where he once was, but, to Oscar, something seemed... off about him.

“Can we go to your driver’s room and talk?” y/n suggested, tilting her head up to face him. Oscar looked down at her, nodded and then released her so they could walk back.

imessages- Y/N's POV

A few minutes later, Oscar pulled up in his sleek McLaren. From his driver seat, he saw Y/N wating for him at the door. She was standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging herself. Thoughts of how he wished he could hold her and keep her warm flew to the front of Oscar's mind. He thought about how cuddly she looked in her sweats and hoodie.

Oscar looked away and furrowed his eyebrows at the realization of where his mind had just wandered to.

He his cleared throat into the silence of his car and tried to clear his mind of the now burning unfriendly thoughts about cuddling Y/n.

When looked back through his car window, he found y/n to be walking toward his car, having spotted him.

She quietly situated herself in the low car and waited for Oscar to start driving. He knew that she was overwhelmed (well technically she told him directly) but he could see it in her actions as well. Her ex showing up was really bothering her, and this, in turn, was bothering Oscar.

How could anyone hurt her willingly? And worse, how could any one hurt her and expect to be accepted again?

‘She deserves more. She deserves so so much more’ Oscar thought to himself.

Silently, Oscar drove Y/N to the icecream shop down the road. Once they reached they’re destination, Y/N smiled and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Y/n wasn’t in the mood to talk, but she hoped that Oscar knew just how much she appreciated him. He was always there for her. Anywhere. For everything and anything- he was there.

Then, suddenly, breaking both Oscar and Y/n’s thought process and they got out, was someone yelling from down the street.

“Y/n! Is that you?” Now walking towards them, was none other than y/n’s ex- the guy one from the VIP Mclaren area earlier.

He just couldn’t get a hint and Y/n was so tired of trying to push him back away. She rolled her eyes and hugged herself again. “You left me so easily months ago, why can’t you fuck off again!” Y/n yelled with newfound anger at seeing him again.

Any sane person would take a hint at a girl like y/n yelling at them, but this guy was just not leaving. “Y/n please i just want to talk! I know your mad…” He got closer and closer to them, walking up to Y/n.

“No! There’s nothing to talk about! You broke up with me and i’m finally accepting it. Please let me be.”

“But how can you-“ Y/n’s ex tried to speak but Oscar cut him off this time.

“How can she? Mate, I heard about what you did and even I want you to leave.” Oscar stood next to Y/n, and folded his arms.

To any outsider, Oscar was definitely “puffing his chest” and being protective but Y/n was of course oblivious to this.

“What? Dude just leave this is between me and her” The ex tried to speak again.

“i don’t think so, man. She said fuck off.” Oscar turned to Y/n and asked her. “You said fuck off, right?”

Y/n didn’t know if he actually wanted her to reply or not so she just nodded and watched them argue.

“See.” Oscar pointed at her nod. “FUCK OFF!”

Then, suddenly, in a span of maybe 5 seconds, flashing cameras blinded the trio’s vision.

“Shit!” “What the-“

Y/n covered her eyes with a hand, both blocking the flash and her identity. Actually, it was probably too late anyways, since the cameras definitely caught Oscar yelling at her ex.

That photo will definitely be on the front of the next drama magazine.

Oscar carefully pushed her into the passenger side of the car and got in as well, trying to get away.

Wherever her ex ran off to when the paparazzi showed up, the cameras didn’t seem to care. All -6?- cameras we’re still surrounding the Mclaren, trying to get photos.

Oscar shut his eyes tight and leaned his head back on the headrest, sick of the stress of paparazzi. Next to him, however, instead of stress, y/n was thinking:

Earlier, while she was waiting for Oscar to pick her up, Y/n was thinking about any possible solution to get her ex and the media off of her back. He was obsessive and he wasn’t leaving without force.

One idea was if she simply moved on faster and just started dating someone.

If she was taken, her ex couldn’t bother her, right? Because then she’d be “off limits” and her ex would have to give up. If she had a boyfriend, the media would also probably give up since the drama would be over. Win-Win.

Now, as the paparazzi moved to the front of the car to get a better picture of the duo, Y/n had the craziest idea.

“Oscar!” Y/n didn’t mean to yell but her mind was going a hundred miles an hour and she didn’t want to miss this chance.

Oscar’s eyes shot open and he looked around like something was wrong. “WHAT?! what? what’s wrong- why are you yelling!”

“nothing, just please listen really fast.” y/n was definitely going to regret this.

“Now?!”

“YES!” Y/n fully turned towards him and spoke fast.

“I had an idea of how to get my ex and the media to stop bothering me, and it includes just getting into a new relationship-“ she shook her head realizing she didn’t need to explain everything

She looked out the front window and saw that the paparazzi were starting to retreat.

“So! I was like “Damn! i’d need to get a boyfriend fast!” right? but who better to be my boyfriend than someone i already know! Then I wouldn’t have to go through talking stages and all that.”

Oscar looked so incredibly confused.

He was wondering why she was telling him this now and why his heart practically broke when she mentioned getting into a relationship.

Y/n moved closer to Oscar. From the corner of her eye, she saw the cameraman become interested again and bring up their cameras. At this, she moved so close to him it was almost inappropriate.

“Oscar I have a favor to ask you.” Y/n was extremely nervous. Nervous that he’d reject her amd also at their proximity.

Oscar heart started beating way to fast.

“Would you be in a PR relationship with me for a bit? It would only be short and we don’t need to go on dates or anything crazy. ANYWAYS… i’m mentioning this now, because…”

Oscar’s eyes blew wide at her question and he looked into her eyes, back to the paparazzi, and settled back on her.

Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed and she looked angelic this close. In this moment, Oscar realized, he was ready to throw away any best-friendship for a small taste of her lips that were basically hovering over his.

What was she doing. What was she doing to him..

He felt her breath on his lips and something like a buzz swirled in his stomach. If only she-

“…I need you to kiss me.” Y/n blurted.

Intagram, Twitter, and Most Social Medias:

DramaNewsRoom: F1 Mclaren Racer Oscar Piastri confiirms specualted relationship in shocking paprazzi photos with his supposed "best friend" Y/n L/n.

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To Be continued....

Do We like? Part 3?

TagList (comment to be added)

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[haerenven]

Can u write law and maybe... sanji and ace with a FAT reader. CHUBBY reader who likes herself and isn't insecure and they're just so attracted to her. I love you

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝟬𝟬𝟭‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ #𝕽𝗢𝗖𝗞𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱‎ ∎■‎ ‎ 𒋲‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 👊🏻🫨

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 乙̸̷ۣ🌴 ‎ ‎ ───‎ ‎ ‎ 🧢‎ ‎‎ ّ ؁‎ ‎‎ 𝗮𝗲‎ ‎ ‎ 𝞹

Prising. T.law - V.Sanji - P.D.Ace - R.Zoro

Summary. Chubby, sweet like lolli 

— (a/n): I love chubby girlies, I’m so effortlessly obsessed ₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎

Trafalgar D. Water Law

• Law is a man of control, a strategist, always five steps ahead. But the moment he met you? His careful calculations shattered. You’re magnetic—bold, radiant, and utterly unshaken by the world’s gaze. You walk like the ocean itself bends to your will, and Law finds himself powerless against you.

• He loves how you carry yourself, the way you don’t shy away from attention, the way you wear your curves like a queen wears her crown. He watches, entranced, as you move through life with a confidence that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

• At first, he tries to be subtle, but the way his golden eyes linger on you gives him away. He watches the way your body moves, the soft curves of you, the ease in which you take up space without ever apologizing for it. It drives him crazy.

• You’ll catch him staring when you’re stretched out across his bed, flipping through a book like you own the place (which you do, in a way—you own him, whether he’ll admit it or not). “Like what you see, Captain?” you tease, and Law, for all his intelligence, is left momentarily speechless before grumbling, “Tch. Obviously.”

• He’s obsessed with tracing over your skin when you’re lying together, fingers brushing over the softness of your waist, the curve of your hip. He’ll never say it outright, but the way he holds you—firm, reverent, like you’re something sacred—says it all.

Vinsmoke Sanji

• Oh, Sanji is gone for you. Absolutely, devastatingly gone. The moment he lays eyes on you, he’s smitten, completely unable to resist the sheer confidence you radiate.

• “Mademoiselle, I have seen beauty before, but you… you are something divine.” And he means every single word. There’s no flattery in it—just raw, unfiltered admiration.

• He worships you, constantly reminding you how breathtaking you are. Every meal he makes is tailored to your tastes, every dish served with a lingering touch, a lingering gaze. “You deserve nothing but the finest, mon amour.”

• He loves how unbothered you are by anyone else’s opinions. The way you smile at yourself in the mirror, the way you dress for yourself, the way you exist so unapologetically—it makes his heart ache in the best way.

• His favorite thing is holding you while he cooks, your body pressed against his back, your arms lazily wrapped around him. He’ll hum in delight, tilting his head to kiss your temple. “Stay like this forever, will you?”

• You could just be standing there, doing absolutely nothing, and he’ll still be looking at you like you’ve personally hung the stars in the sky.

Portgas D. Ace

• Ace? Oh, Ace is feral for you. Completely, helplessly obsessed.

• He loves everything about you—your confidence, your curves, the way you take up space and don’t shrink yourself for anyone. It’s hot. He doesn’t know how else to describe it. The way you carry yourself with such certainty? The way you know you’re attractive? He’s down bad.

• If anyone ever even thinks about saying something rude, they won’t even get the chance to finish their sentence before Ace is throwing an arm around you, smirking like a menace. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now keep it moving.” He loves that you don’t need him to defend you, but damn if he doesn’t enjoy shutting people up.

• He’s always touching you—slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap, resting a hand on your thigh when you sit next to him. You’ll tease him about being clingy, but he just grins, completely unashamed. “Can’t help it, babe. You’re too damn irresistible.”

• He lives for the moments when you catch him staring and just smirk, completely aware of your effect on him. “What?” he shrugs, all boyish charm. “You’re hot. Sue me.”

Roronoa Zoro

• Zoro isn’t a man of words, but his actions speak volumes.

• He’s the type to just silently adore you, stealing glances when you aren’t looking, completely captivated by the way you move, the way you own every room you step into.

• He pretends like he doesn’t care, but the truth? He loves how confident you are. He loves that you don’t try to fit into anyone else’s expectations, that you exist as you are and make no apologies for it. It’s so attractive to him.

• He melts when you’re affectionate with him—when you casually drape yourself over him, when you tease him about how much he likes your softness. “Admit it, Zoro,” you say, poking his cheek. “You like how comfy I am.” He just grunts, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrays him.

• The first time you straddle his lap and rest your full weight on him, he just grins. “You think I can’t handle you?” He squeezes your thighs, his grip firm, challenging. “You underestimate me, sweetheart.”

• He’s protective, in his own quiet way. If he catches anyone looking at you wrong, they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of the deadliest glare. “You got a problem?” he growls, hand resting on his swords. They never do.

• He adores how you carry yourself, how you never second-guess your own worth. And if anyone dares to doubt it? Zoro will remind them exactly why they should never underestimate you. 

[kiyoomiee]

one. two. three. four.

After that pool party incident, Sukuna tried his best to stay away from you. But how could he when you're literally everywhere?

Walking into the kitchen in the morning to find you cooking breakfast in one of his oversized shirts that Yuuji must've mistook as his and let you borrow it. The way it barely covered your thighs had him gripping his coffee mug too tight. Fucking sinful.

Running into you in the hallway after your shower, hair wet and skin flushed from the hot water. The scent of your shampoo and body wash lingering in the air long enough for him to get addicted to it even after you're gone.

Sukuna can sense that you're trying to avoid him too.

You started waiting until you hear his bedroom door close before going out of your room. You would sometimes eat your meals alone just to avoid him in the kitchen.

It was driving him insane. He wanted to avoid you, yet he can't stop seeking you out when you're gone from his sight.

He couldn't stop thinking about you, and he hated it. Hated how his body reacted every time you were near. Hated how his eyes followed you whenever you entered a room.

But most of all, he hated how you made him feel things he never felt before.

“You've been spacing out a lot lately. Everything okay?” Yuuji's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Shut up.” Sukuna grunts. They were watching Yuuji's favorite movie, yet Sukuna's focus was anywhere but the screen in front of him.

His brother was more perceptive around others, contrary to other people's thoughts. Yuuji noticed his lingering eyes whenever you're around.

Where are you? You aren't home yet.

“She's sleeping over Nobara's dorm tonight, if that's what you're worried about.” Yuuji mentioned as if he can read thoughts, and watched as his brother's expression darken.

“Not worried.” Liar. Just the mention of you had his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He needed to get his shit together. You were his brother's best friend, for fuck's sake. Off limits. Forbidden. Young. Not his type.

Lies. lies. lies.

One night, Sukuna came home late from work, pissed over a client who tried to lowball him about their tattoo design which he spent fucking hours on.

He found you in the kitchen, humming softly while washing dishes. He went straight for the cupboard, he desperately needs a drink tonight.

“Oh, you're home. I saved some food for you in the fridge. Have you eaten dinner yet? I'll heat it up for you.” You turned the faucet off and faced him when a gentle smile on your face.

Even after being rude to you in countless occasions, you still manage to spare him that smile of yours. Fuck, you're too good for him. Add that to the fucking list of reasons why he can't have you.

“Are you looking for liquor? I moved it over the next shelf.”

The sight of you in his space, looking so comfortable and domestic, made something snap inside him.

“Can you stop moving my fucking things around?” he growled.

“I was just cleaning-”

“I don't care what you were doing. This is my house, I want my shit exactly where I left it.” You flinched at his harsh and spiteful tone.

Why did he have to be so mean?

“What the fuck is your problem, Sukuna? Why do you hate me so much?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Sukuna froze, his jaw clenching. Hate you?

“I stayed out of your way. I avoid bumping into you everyday. I tried to do something nice yet you still look at me like I disgust you. I live like a fucking ghost in this house. So tell me what I've done to make you hate me so much?”Your lips quivered as you rambled on.

You were right. You're like a ghost that haunted him even in his dreams. In his dreams where he can touch you and own you freely, a beautiful nightmare that he doesn't want to end.

As he stares at you, his thoughts became more clear. If only he could actually hate you instead of wanting you so desperately that it made him feel like he was losing his mind.

“I don't hate you.” He said through gritted teeth. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “That's the fucking problem.”

—————————————————————

taglist: @emyyy007 @thebumbqueen @domainofmarie @cheriiepies @jumpinjaxx @mothstvrnz @grveyrd4 @tojisbabymommasblog @realalpacorn @starriesworlds @go-go-gadget-autism @ieathairs @oidloid @krispywhisperswhispers @satorupied @zeunys @chosos-prettyprincess

[thjsrots]

princess reader x thief vi drabble

; warnings: riding (tribbing?), top!vi x sub!reader, biting, drool, hate fucking but not really, forbidden sex

As the future ruler of Piltover, you had many responsibilities. Helping keep the people safe, making harsh decisions, and putting on your best face for everyone were some of the few that mattered most. As time consuming and stressful the position was, one could only take on so much at a time without some kind of… relief.

Sure, masturbating did it for you most of the time, but it never quite reached that itch that still buzzed at you after you finished. No matter what you tried; your fingers, toys, pillows, there was always that spot you just couldn’t pleasure enough. You craved something more, something real, someone real. Not just anyone—

Violet Lanes.

She was a cold hard thief, wanted by your parents, who put a hefty bounty over her. Your citizens tore their own heads off, running around like crazed chickens trying to find her and get the reward. But Vi was smart, she knew her way around Piltover, and knew her way around you. While everyone searched high and low for her, she was right above their heads in your room, gripping onto your ass as you shamelessly rut into her cunt. The room was heavy with the squelching noises of mixed wetness, pants, moans, and the smell of forbidden sex. She laid there, working her hips against your drippy cunt as you rode her. She had a smirk on her stupid, hot face, looking oh so proud of herself.

“Geez, Princess. You’re quite greedy, aren’t you?” Vi said in between pants, guiding your thrusts with her hands, making sure she rubbed against just the right spot, making your breath hitch.

You could tell she was doing it on purpose, trying to break down your barriers. Your eyebrows furrowed, fighting the pleasure as best as you could to show disdain, teeth gritting before you spoke. “What—Mmh! Whatever… do you mean?” Your bud was constantly rubbing against hers, eyes rolling back as your hands gripped onto her breasts.

“Well, think of all those poor citizens out there looking for me right now. Ripping their hair out with frustration, and I’m right here, letting their precious Princess ride me. And your parents, Gods don’t even get me started on—”

You cut off her taunting by crashing your lips into hers, sliding your tongue in her mouth as you savored her saliva, making her groan in the process. You pulled away, string stuck between yours and her lips, feeling a warmness spread throughout your lower stomach. “Vi, shut up… S’close…!”

She scoffed, opening her legs up more so you could grind against her whole cunt, your clit smothered with her juices. Your back arched, moans growing louder until she reached over and stuffed her fingers in your mouth. “Actually, I think it’s you who needs to shut up.” Your tongue swirled around her salty digits, sucking on them as your orgasm crept up on you. Vi’s egotistical eyes were fixed on nothing but you, completely eating up the fact that you were naked and vulnerable. She probably felt like she one upped the system, but for some reason, that thought made you even closer. The friction between the two of you was indescribable, unbearable, better than any gourmet meal or anything money could buy. This is what your body so badly needed, what it was craving. It craved the worst person in Piltover, the one that could fuck up your whole royal life if anyone found out.

This orgasm wasn’t like the ones you’d had during your alone time, this one rode out. You felt it at your thighs at first, a tingle that quickly turned into bursting jolts all throughout your body. You stiffened up, drooling and biting on her fingers, damn near drawing blood as you came all over her cunt. You didn’t care how pathetic you looked to her in that moment, you were drunk off nothing but Violet. She reached hers soon after, throwing her head back as she felt your hole dripping cum along her sensitive clit. You threw your body on her, sweaty skin touching, panting as her hands wrapped around you. Your body tensed up, scoffing at her touch, looking up at her face that had a grin plastered on it. You scoffed and glared. “You know, I truly hate you.”

She laughed, poking your nose, making you scrunch it up. You pulled away, sitting up and crossing your arms, staring at the naked, stupidly sexy woman laying in your satin sheets. “You sure about that, Princess?”

should i write more? 🤨

[crowborn666-writes]

malleus/leona/azul with a fem student who has adhd and autism. yet crowley does nothing about it despite being explained over again saying 'you're just not trying hard enough, etc"

(Oh hey, it’s my two biggest brain problems lmao. As hot as I find Crowley (yes he’s a hear me out), just once, I would love to hit him over the head with every broken object in Ramshackle. Just whack him WWE style. I’d probably convince Grim, Ace and Deuce to join in. ANYWAYS—)

(this was actually a bit hard for my AuADHD, explaining ADHD and Autism itself is quite difficult for me without references lol that and I'm horrible with finding the right words)

That’s Not How That Works

Characters: Malleus, Leona, and Azul

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Platonic/Romantic

Summary: No, Crowley, you cannot “just get over it”. Yes, you are trying your hardest. Oh, and your friend wants to “have a word” with you in your office.

(Malleus covers both p equally, while Leona leans more to ADHD, and Azul more to Autism!)

~~~~~~

Malleus

He didn’t get it at first. I doubt ANY of the cast would know what the proper terms for your mental conditions meant. But once you sit down with him, trying to find the right words to explain in a way he would understand, he catches on quickly.

For the ADHD side, once you explain what dopamine is, and how your brain doesn't register or create enough of it, he understands why you find difficulty in completing long term tasks, and why you wait until the last minute.

He catches on quite quicker when you explain Autism. While obviously its more than just a hyperfixation, but all you really have to start with is "kinda like how you obsess over gargoyles" for his eyes to widen in mutual understanding.

You hear a storm rolling in the distance when you go on to explain how Crowley wouldn't listen, and kept pushing you to do things that would surely lead to a massive burnout.

"I'll take care of it." He speaks those words so calmly, you almost fear for Crowley's life. But when Malleus speaks again, his tone now matches the bright smile on his face. "You said autistic people bond through... what was that term again? Infodumping??? Right, why don't you share your most recent interests with me, I can carve a new gargoyle in the while I listen."

Leona

Was already pissed off with Crowley's general treatment towards you. Suddenly has the urge to de-feather a bird when you get into the topic.

It comes up when he stops by to visit, watching you try to clean up around your dusty dorm. You had suddenly stopped in the middle of what you were doing, looking between the cups on the table, to the dishes in the sink, and then the mess on the counters and-

He asks you what was up, and without thinking you explain.

"Well, I want to clean the cups off the table, but the sink is full. I can't clean the sink out because the counter's messy and the dishwasher doesn't work, but I can't clean the counter cause the trash needs taken out and we're low on trash bags and-"

He stops you before your tongue flies out of you mouth, gently soothing you before you could work yourself frantic.

So, while he's helping find a solution to the seemingly endless cycle of tasks, you explain the difficulties you have with your ADHD and Autism in this world. You explain all the little tricks you had set up at home, how each one helped a task become more manageable, and how hard it was to get them set up and built into your routine.

While he doesn't personally experience your struggle, he can only imagine how hard you're having it. He looks out for your signs of stress now, stepping in to help fix or assist with things, maybe even wordlessly pass you a bracelet of his to fidget with.

Azul

Honestly, I would NOT be surprised if he has had his fair share of experience with ADHD and Autism. Not personally, but through the twins.

Floyd is, well, a walking bomb ready to explode. That eel can almost never sit still, seemingly unaware of personal boundaries and able to switch moods at the drop of a hat.

Jade is more subtle, oftentimes so quiet most don't realize he's there until he speaks. But if he's in a mood or someone asks about mushrooms, it's nearly impossible getting him to shut up.

So, it's safe to say Azul recognized those things when getting to know you. What he wasn't expecting, was the way you seemingly recoil in pain when you encounter an odd texture.

That wasn't the only thing either. You struggled with discerning lefts from rights, which made for some funny interactions between the twins. You struggled with remember to care for yourself when you fell too deep into a hobby or task, seemingly not feeling the signals for, say hunger, until someone else brings it up.

Finally, he had to ask you about it.

You do your best to explain it to him, but once you do, he lets out a soft, understanding "Ohhh..."

You run off on a tangent then, frowning as you start to talk about Crowley and the fact he refused to even try to understand. It was nice having a routine to follow, sure, but not when there's so much being thrown at you on top of the lack of support.

Azul's blood boils, and he almost whips out his phone to contact the twins for... information.

He offers to write up a contract for you then and there, detailing you receive better treatment from Crowley, giving you some ease of mind and body against all the overwhelming sensations you deal with on the daily.

He'll even let you admire his coin collection while he writes it.

[xoswiftieprincess]

i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me. honey, hell is when i fight with you.

no smut! only comfort + fluff :)

this takes place in the winter and i know it’s nearing summer (where im from anws) but for the sake of fiction let's please pretend

✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡

you and sam don’t fight very often, but sometimes things go awry during a hunt. some cruel words are exchanged, creating heated conversations. it was a witch hunt gone wrong, involving a group of close-knit high school girls with terrible family backgrounds that made the case hit a little too close to home.

it had clouded your judgement and you were convinced they were innocent. of course, you were wrong. sam had been a little on edge because more people had died on the previous cases you worked on, way more than the usual. it wasn't your fault either, but you knew he was getting fed up with the increasing amount of casualties.

you sighed as you sat near the fireplace that you were lucky the motel room offered. it was negative degrees out and you decided to stay in doors to cool off while sam and dean went out to get dinner. music swelled softly in your ears with your headphones on, playing one of your favorite sad songs.

you were angry at first, angry that the blame had fallen on you when even they were convinced at first too. now you were just reeling from the roller coaster of emotions you’d been through in the last eight hours, and the sadness had finally creeped its way in.

fighting with the person you love the most feels like absolute hell. baring your heart to one another, letting them know each and every single one of your vulnerabilities, but in the midst of tension, words are twisted and you're no longer on the same side— suddenly, their sweet words you once considered lullabies are now daggers thrown at the opposing side.

it was like going to a boxing match with no gloves on.

you sighed, curling up in the thick sweater you had on. normally, during the cold days when you weren't working, you and sam liked to make hot cocoa and stay all day in bed wrapped in each other's arms. now, this would be one of the first few where it felt like he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as you, in your mind anyways.

that wasn't how he felt, but he had to be there for you to know that.

it was ironic how the person who broke your heart was also the only one who could mend it.

the need for him to be here with you weighed on your heart heavily. tears began to cloud your vision, and everything came crashing down.

little did you know, that was the exact moment sam had walked in to your shared motel room. your soft cries broke his heart, and you hadn't noticed his presence because your back was turned and your headphones still on.

you looked so small and defenseless, and it pained him to know that he was the one who caused that.

as you cried your heart out, you felt a warm hand on your back and you looked up to find sam with an apologetic look on his face. it only made you cry even more, and he wrapped you in his arms and settled you on his lap. his body warmth transferred onto yours, coating you with the love and affection he held for you, and everything felt right in the world again.

he took your headphones off and let you lay your head on his chest, making you listen to the beat of his heart instead, which grounded you from the sadness that consumed you. “i’m so sorry, honey,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead. “i’m so sorry for hurting you. for making you cry like this.”

you shook your head. though the apology was appreciated, that wasn't what mattered the most. the only important thing was that he was here with you. “it’s okay, just hold me please.”

he kissed your tears away and laid his head on your shoulder. “i love you so much, baby,” he whispered. he held you for as long as you needed him to in front of the fireplace amid the harsh winter. it was all you could ask for.

“have you eaten?” he’d asked and you shook your head. your appetite had been long gone since he left the room hours ago. “i got you some take out, and a bottle of your favorite wine. how about i pour you a glass, hm?”

“yes, please,” you sighed, feeling all the angst in your body fade away, “thank you, sammy.” and you finally managed a small, fragile smile.

he laid a sweet kiss on your lips before he got up. you stared into the fire as you waited for him, feeling the warmth of it engulf your heart as well.

he came back with two glasses and the bottle of red wine. once he’d poured enough for both of you, he put you back on his lap. since you hadn’t eaten yet, he also spoon fed you bit by bit to fill your stomach before drinking.

sam whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he made sweet love to you all night. he made sure to take extra good care of you, knowing how delicate you still were.

you thought it didn’t matter how many times you and sam would fight in the future as long as it was with him. you would never give anyone else the same power he had over you.

he could crush your heart and you’d still love him for it—but you knew he would never do that because he loves you in the most beautiful way, a way that no one ever could.

and when the time came that all of this was over— no more hunting monsters and drifting through states, you knew you had been right all along. the day you and sam finally found a permanent place to stay and you bore a ring on your finger, you knew you didn’t want any other shade of blue in the world but him.

✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡ ✗♡✗♡

author’s yap: this is something a little different than my usual! i hope you guys liked it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

tagging my sweethearts : @littlesoulshine @losers-clvb @nymphet-quenn @sacr1ficialang3l @starzify @rositaslabyrinth @saltcxrcle

[phyllocnistis]

butch4butch threesome with a nervous baby butch getting his fucking guts rearranged by some older dykes

this was really fun!! longer than my normal ones but slutty and hot

your skin sticks to the inside of your leather jacket, warm from the night outside. still, you had brought it with you, convinced you looked cooler when you wore it. and maybe you did! was that really something for you to decide?

striding forward, you navigate through crowded pathways bumping into people as you go. it's not too crowded tonight, but there are definitely some unfamiliar faces. there's a beautiful lady you'd never seen off to the side wearing a denim vest and plaid dress that hugged her in all the right places- she was a total babe. it looked like she was waiting for friends, maybe a date? you set off towards her nervously, tripping a little on your shoes as you do.

"h-hi," you stammer out, cheeks flushing red. she looks puzzled but amused by you.

"hi?" she responds quizzically.

"i-i was just wondering if you-" a tall, lean figure slides in next to the woman, their arm wrapping around her waist, promptly ending the conversation.

feeling humiliated, you turn and rush to the bar, desperately in need of a drink. your arm brushes against someone else's as you sit down and you're even more aware of how goddamn hot this jacket really was. you peel it off of yourself, flustered at how the night had started. putting your head in your hands, you let out a sigh, biceps involuntarily flexing as you grow frustrated.

"rough night, huh? here," the voice startles you, but it was thick and rich, like syrup. looking up, you find a shot you didn't order on the bar in front of you. your chest tightened when you saw the body the voice belonged to.

"i'm beau," they continued. beau was leaning against the bar, one elbow propped up to steady them. they wore nice jeans that hugged their tummy beneath the tucked in flowy shirt that hung off their shoulders. a large brimmed cowboy hat sat perfectly over what you thought was a curly mullet, though it was too dark to tell. the gold of their necklace glinted at you off their chest, causing your eyes to flutter and your mind to slam back to reality. you'd never really been on for butches but something about them was enticing.

"h-hi. hi beau. i'm jay. is this for me?" you ask, gesturing to the shot.

they laugh, turning around to put both arms on the bar.

"yeahhhhh, seems like you got it pretty rough over there. we watched the whole thing and i remember times bein like that, figured we could lend a hand. this is lou,"

before your mouth could catch up to ask questions, a second person emerged from beside beau, taller and more sturdy looking. they were stunning, too. long, dark hair fell from beneath a bandana and onto a white, fitting tank top. their arms were wide, too big to see individual muscles but built nonetheless. a similar necklace to beau's is around around their neck, swaying gently as they waved.

"to jay!" lou's voice was loud and boisterous, filling the room with joy and your stomach with embarrassment. you feel your cheeks running hot again, but you're not sure they ever returned to their normal color in the first place. you didn't have time to think though, lou and beau were holding their shots up high, waiting for you to do the same. reluctantly, you clinked your glass on theirs and downed the shot.

it burned. it felt nice, too. it was relieving to know you could feel something other than humiliation.

slamming the glass down, you looked up to find beau and lou staring back at you eagerly with wide eyes that had a "tell us everything" look in them. maybe it was their disarming stare, maybe it was the shot. either way, you felt inclined to speak to them, to let it out and put all your cards on the table.

"i just! i don't know what i'm doing wrong," you exclaim, the edges of your body and mind blurring from the alcohol.

"i feel like every time i see a pretty girl, i clam up. i can't ever get further than hi or they're already taken by someone hotter than me or they don't like butches or god forbid, they're straight!"

"well, do you like butches?" lou asked, leaning back onto the bar how beau had. a toothpick hung out of their mouth and you could tell both of them were amused by your woes.

the question caught you off guard. you'd never really... thought about it? yes.. you liked butches; both your friends and yourself fell into that category, but you hadn't ever been with one. you'd never looked at one.. like *that.* until tonight, really. you mulled over the words for a second, trying to parse if you actually were into butches, but you found it hard to focus with both of them looking back at you.

"do.. do i like butches?"

they both chuckled.

"yes," beau answered, "do you like butches?"

you figured since you'd already been this honest with them, might as well go all the way.

"maybe? ive never been with one or even flirted with one,"

beau and lou leaned in closer to you, frowning and pushing their bottom lips out comically.

"we aren't good enough to flirt with?" both immediately broke their gaze and burst into laughter, obviously getting off on making you feel even more nervous.

the words caught up to you and before you had a chance to stop them, they spilled out of your mouth.

"no, no! you're both very handsome, i've just. i've never met another butch who likes butches, it's new."

you saw lou waving the bartender down behind beau to order another round but your vision was filled with beau's charming smile as they leaned in closer to you, inches from your face.

"it's as old as time, hun."

a new feeling overcame you now, causing your stomach to churn with something you'd never felt. it was enchanting to speak with them. they both felt so calming, so real and kind. beau waited several moments before pulling away from your face, only interrupted by lou offering up the shots they'd just ordered.

"ooh, what'd i miss, babe?" lou leans in to kiss beau's jawbone, causing them to shut their eyes and grin drunkenly. a kiss? were you reading the situation correctly? you thought they'd been flirting with you at least a little bit. had you fucked this up too?

"ohhh, nothing. just seeing if jay here wanted to come home with us tonight, that's all."

the words were a shock to your system, you hadn't expected it. "with us." were they both flirting with you? did you care? you came out tonight hoping to get laid, hoping to please some pretty girl. how was this any different?

lou and beau stared at you expectantly, waiting for an answer with eager eyes.

stammering, you reply,

"i-i. yeah. yes, i want- let's do that."

the two of them smiled at you and rolled their eyes slightly. beau raised their shot glass and offered a toast. you slammed this shot easier than the first.

beau closed the tab as lou dragged you towards the door. as you strode to the door, lou's firm grip around your wrist, you notice the girl from before and shoot her a smirk. she doesn't look amused anymore.

lou pulls you towards their truck, pushing you against the bed of it before leaning into you. they smelled delicious; slightly sweet.

"man, you really are cute, can i kiss you?"

your mind is racing and you nod without even realizing. seconds later, warm lips part your own and a large hand cups the side of your face. lou kisses you hungrily, almost like they want to eat you up. you'd always led encounters before, kissing other girls like this but you let them take the lead, excited for the break. footsteps startle you back to reality and you look up to find beau striding across the gravel.

"i-i. holy shit, i'm so sorry. i didn't-"

"when's my turn?"

you find yourself frozen for a moment before beau walks up to you, pulling you by your belt loops into them. they lean down to you and you find that the kiss they offer is incredibly similar and totally different from the one lou had just given you. complementary of one another.

the sound of the truck starting causes beau to pull away again, looking to you and nodding back to the truck.

it's a one cab truck and lou is already in the driver seat, so you pile in together, your body squeezed between lou's and beau's.

the drive was uneventful, though beau and lou's hands wandered up your jeans gently, similar to how you would've slid your hand up a skirt. this flustered you. their movements were totally in sync and made your skin feel electrified, but not hot like that damn jacket had.

lou pulled up to a nice apartment and the two of them led you inside, giggling and looking at each other as they walked ahead of you. they pulled you into the home, taking your jacket and hanging it for you before leading you to a couch.

"are you thirsty? can we get you anything?"

you figured you could use some water and said as much, hoping your future self would thank you. your mind felt fuzzy from the shots you had taken and the kisses you had received and your heart raced with anticipation for what was to come.

"this is a really nice place.. do you both live here?" you ask naively.

lou giggled and smiled back at you, untying their boots as they did. you tried not to look down their shirt when they bent over but it was futile.

"yeah, we've been together for the last 10 years and have lived here for... oh i don't know 5-6 years now? babe?"

"probably 6," beau responded, setting a glass of water down in front of you before turning back towards the kitchen. fix

"wow, that's.. that's really beautiful, i'm happy for you.. i didn't realize how beautiful butch couples could be, i guess. no offense, oh my god that sounded awful, i'm- that's not what i-"

"calm down," lou sat down next to you, running their hand from your knee upwards,

"you're doing fine."

you felt yourself begin to loosen up, comforted by the reassuring presence of them both. beau returned from the kitchen and sat down on the other side of you, their warm body pressed against yours. they handed you a beautifully wrapped joint and asked you with their velvety voice if you smoked.

you hadn't smoked all week, this was so kind of them. lou offered a lighter from a nearby table and you lit it up, smoke filling the air around you and inside you quickly. you coughed more than you would have liked and were thankful for the water beau had just gotten you.

you figured you should take it easy, only taking a few hits from it while lou and beau finished it up and you all had small talk.

as the high crept in, you felt yourself more relaxed than you had been all night. you DID love butches and you felt safe here. you felt excited and invigorated about trying something new.. you wondered how it would feel to just.. let go. let them take complete control. you couldn't stop thinking about how both of their lips had felt on yours..

"can we take care of you?" lou's words interrupted your thoughts. looking up, you found the two of them looking back at you from either side, hands gently on your lap. with a nod you let out, "please," with far more desperation than you had meant to.

like a well trained animal, the two of them descended onto you in coordinated bliss. you felt your eyes roll back as beau's hands caressed your jawline and their lips traced your neck. lou was busy exploring you with their hands; squeezing your bicep, running their hands through your hair, unbuckling your belt. you'd always loved the sight of someone at your knees like that but you didn't know what it was like to actually receive from someone.

all three of you let out little moans and took turns kissing. at one point, both of them were pressed in close to you with your arms pinned beneath you. together, they kissed and licked your neck and jawbone at the same time and you could feel yourself melting into a puddle for them.

eventually, lou left the room to get something. beau pulled at your pants now, urging them off your legs and sliding them onto the floor. god, they were so hot looking up at you like that. you wanted one of them to touch you, to fuck you. you could feel how wet you were, something you rarely let yourself enjoy during other hookups. beau looked up at you with needy eyes, practically drooling over you. it was this moment you decided to fully give in. the bud and drinks from earlier had played their part and now it was time for you to experience ecstasy. as their fingers pulled at your boxers, it revealed your dripping bush and shaking legs. you smiled as you felt beau's mouth kissing and biting the inside of your thighs. their fingers brushed gently across your skin, barely touching where you so deeply needed it. just then, lou emerged.

your breath caught at the sight of them; leather buckled strap hanging from their hips, same white tank top from before, a ravenous look in their eye. you felt your cunt tense up and beau's lips smiling against your skin. in one heavenly motion, beau's lips parted your own, their tongue exploring parts of you that had never been explored before. tiny bits pulling at your skin made your head fall back and every time their tongue circled around your clit, you let out a pleading moan.

lou sat down next to you, pulling your open mouth into a sweet, warm kiss. you found it hard to focus as beau's tongue fucked you, l licking around your folds and in and out of you while their soft moans vibrated your clit. still, you returned the favor and kissed lou back the best you could, pausing every few moments to moan into their mouth when you got overstimulated.

lou's kisses were getting nastier though. their mouth wrapped around your tongue and sucked it, they licked from your neckline all the way up to your ear. they were pulling your head back by your hair when you felt a soft pressure from below. instantly, you felt fireworks erupt inside of you as beau's fingers pushed inside of you.

holy fuck, that felt good. is this what the girls you fucked had felt every time? you pulled away from lou, too distracted now to kiss too. they didn't seem to mind though.. after a few minutes of slowly working their fingers around you and inside of you, you felt them slowly pulling out, wet stickiness clinging to them. you open your eyes and frown at the sight, desperately needing to be filled again.

"wait, please," you moan breathlessly.

a new sensation. hands around your waist.

lou was pulling you onto their lap, onto their strap. you'd never taken one before but now you felt like you might die if you didn't.

lou spread your legs apart from behind you, your back pressed completely against theirs. with perfect gentleness, 2 fingers pressed around your clit and circled it, spit and juices rolling over in their hands.

suddenly, beau was beneath you both, their mouth wrapped around the silicone expertly. you could feel them when they got close to you, their breath warming your cunt. every few seconds, their nose or cheek would graze your leg or your bush and you'd find your legs quaking and quivering.

lou's hands explored your body, pulling your shirt off. with a shock, you felt something hot splatter across your cunt and realized beau had spit in it. like clockwork, lou was using their big arms to lift you up, helping to position you exactly where you needed to be. you pulled your legs underneath you, excited to give this a shot.

beau was here to help. when you were just above the lou's strap, needing to be filled, beau's hand reached out to help. similarly to how you'd tease girls in the past, beau helped lou tease you. their fingers pressed the silicone tip into your folds, but not inside of you. you felt the cold material warm up as lou teased your clit and your hole with the strap. it was really, really hard to focus now, but you could see beau grinning while they watched you squirm.

finally, you couldn't take it anymore. you couldn't handle the teasing. moving your hips yourself, you placed yourself firmly on the strap and sunk down onto it, feeling every inch of it stretch you as you did. it felt so fucking good. what had you been missing this whole time? you could see beau's eyes light up as you slid onto it and lou's hands tightened around your hips as you did.

the two of them were enjoying this just as much as you were, evident by the growls and pants they both let out. you worked your hips over the strap, rolling them and thrusting where it felt best. you let lou completely slut you out; they raised you up, strong and sturdy, and fucked their hips into you, each pulse filling you with a throbbing need for more.

"you're doing so good, handsome."

lou's voice melted over you causing your muscles to scream. you're so preoccupied that you didn't even notice beau leave the room.

they returned wearing theyre on strap, similar in style to lou's, but this one was bigger it seemed. your eyes lit up at the sight, ready to climb onto it. lou helped you up, ready to give beau a turn with you.

flipping you onto your stomach, beau pushed their cock in from behind, squeezing your hips and thighs as they did. it was huge, filling you up exactly how you wanted. unknowingly, you began to shake your ass eager to get deeper and deeper onto their shaft. it was more tiring than you had expected, your legs growing weaker from holding yourself up. when this happened, beau firmly gripped your waist and pulled you into them, fucking you raw like a toy. when you were screaming and shaking, legs unable to keep you steady, beau gave you the hardest pounds you had felt all night and dropped you onto the couch face first, all used up.

lou swept in, helping you up and eventually carrying you to their room. they laid you down and kissed your face before getting up to grab you water. beau came in shortly after while you lay there a wet, shaking mess.

"how are you holding up, dear?"

their voice could make you come again.

"i- thank you. holy fuck," you collapsed into their lap as they sat on the bed next to you. soft hands caressed your hair and you were knocked out before lou even made it back with water.

the next morning, you woke to the smell of a delicious breakfast. there were clothes on the bed for you, yours nowhere to be seen. they fit you perfectly. there was a brand new toothbrush waiting in the bathroom for you and after you gathered yourself, you emerged to find lou and beau both grinning at you over freshly made coffee.

you spent the morning with them, longer than you would have with a precious hookup. they fed you a delicious breakfast and gave you your clothes back, washed and folded. when you were finally ready to leave, you turned to change back into your clothes.

"why don't you keep them, hmm?" beau asked.

"what? i don't need-" you interjected, not wanting to take their things.

"but then," lou continued, "you can bring them back.. and we could see you again."

they winked, looking at you the same way they had last night when they had been deep, deep inside you.

"i- okay, yeah. yeah. i'll see you both again," you replied, already thinking of how badly you wanted to fuck them again.

they called you an uber back to the bar where you picked up your car and drove home in a stunned silence. every bump in the road made you grind your hips or clench your cunt.. when you got home, you found a note in your clothes with both their numbers and within a week, you were back in their arms; their thick cocks in either side of you.

[ang3lmoans]

Angel felt the warmth of Garam’s hand intertwining with his as they moved through the store, the soft buzz of chatter and music droning in the background. He had to admit, the morning had been exhilarating, and the marks on his neck were a reminder of that thrill. But now, standing in the brightly lit clothing store, he felt a rush of mixed emotions. Garam’s casual mention of public escapades stirred something in him—was he embarrassed? Maybe a little. But more than that, he was intrigued and a bit flattered. All of this caught him off guard. “I’m not embarrassed,” he replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. He found himself worrying why everything he did went wrong. “I just... didn’t think about it like that.” He glanced at Garam, who was holding a black t-shirt against him. Angel couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. Angel took a deep breath, “You’re right. It’s not like I put on a turtleneck to hide them. I just... didn’t think about how noticeable they would be.” His fingers brushed against the fabric around his neck, almost as if he were subconsciously checking if the hickeys were still visible. “I didn’t mind them until you mentioned it.” He paused, letting the weight of his words linger in the air between them. “I guess I’m not used to being so... marked.” There was a thrill in that admission, a vulnerability he didn’t often expose. He began to get flustered. He didn’t expect Garam to act so jealous. Angel could admit he didn’t pay attention to on-lookers. “I didn’t notice, but people are going to look at me Garam. The same way others look at you. You have to trust that I’m only have eyes for you.” He watched Garam’s expression shift, the concern etched on his face making Angel’s heart flutter., and just like that he melted. He did appreciate how attentive Garam was, always careful about what might make him uncomfortable. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “I like it. I like that you’re bold enough to leave your mark. But it seems you are marking your territory. That aspect I don’t like” he was sure to be clear about that leaning down and kissing the man’s forehead. “I’m starting to think it’s not about me being embarrassed and more about you being jealous Garam” Maybe it was the thrill of their morning, or perhaps it was the energy that buzzed between them now, but he found himself leaning in closer, the space between them shrinking. “But I hate to admit I find it hot” he added, his voice dropping to a more intimate whisper. The moment felt electric, charged with the potential of what might happen next. For a moment, Angel considered testing those waters. “So… about that dressing room idea…” he trailed off, a teasing smile creeping onto his lips. Taking the shirt and putting it back on the rack. “If you want them to be seen grab my size. I’ll change but ask nicely please” he huge grin was plaster on Angel’s face.

he felt a bit bad, not necessarily ashamed but he definitely didn't feel very proud of himself, at the fact that he'd messed around with more people in public than angel did. he wasn't trying to make it a competition to begin with and he still wasn't seeing it that way, but he'd already had feelings about being seen negatively when it came to his sexual activity so knowing his public body count was higher just made him feel bad about it or himself. garam wasn't sure how much he actually wanted to admit to. of course, he didn't want to talk about the things he'd done while he was dating axel but messing around in public wasn't something the man was interested in. the farthest the two had gone together was making out in bars or clubs, some drunken heavy petting in their respective bathrooms. anything beyond kissing in public with the other people he'd been with always happened behind the scenes, private places where others wouldn't see them. hearing was definitely a different conversation, garam wasn't always the most subtle when it came to his own pleasure. "never in a dressing room," was what he admitted to, shaking his head. but the idea did intrigue him, as long as they were quiet. the last thing he'd want was to be banned from another store, or the mall entirely, for his behavior. there was so much to this aspect of his life that he wasn't vocal about, unless he'd been drinking and then there was no shutting him up. even though he knew angel wouldn't judge him if he spoke more freely, there was always going to be that little sliver of doubt that scared him to mostly keeping his mouth shut. "i'm not against it, though. just as long as we didn't get caught." not that he was expecting anything to happen while they were shopping, especially since they'd just fooled around this morning. garam let his hand slip down to find angel's again but only so he could lift it up to hand to give the pretzel to him so he could have his own hands free to start rifling through the racks of clothes. "are you embarrassed of the marks i left on your neck?" he kept his voice and tone as neutral as possible, not wanting to let on how he felt about the fact that angel's choice of clothing covered up the hickeys. he pulled out what he thought would have been a loose fitted black t-shirt from the rack and held it against angel's torso, eyes scanning him over before looking up to meet with his eyes. "if you're wearing that," he emphasized, eyes briefly glancing down to the fabric clinging to angel's neck as if to point it out, "to deter me from kissing you there, you can just say you don't like it." garam was worried since he intentionally left marks on angel's neck, though it was more so darius could see them but it wouldn't have been bad if it stopped others from approaching him. two birds with one stone. "i don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." that was also something he worried about; garam didn't take into consideration how leaving marks would have made angel feel. his arms had gone limp, dropping down to his waist as he held the shirt in front of him. "i bet that woman wouldn't have been staring at you like that if she could've seen them."

[synthetickitsune]

Asking Nicely Is Overrated ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x reader (f) Genre: smut Summary: Only Joshua could make you feel this happy and loved while he’s fucking your mouth. Word count: 7k Warnings: oral (m receiving), praise, pet names, recording reader during the act A/N: the title is a clickbait he's still very nice

You sag against the elevator wall and close your eyes. With a deep sigh you release the tension from your shoulders and knead the tender muscle. There are no words to describe just how much you want to be home already, even the elevator ride feels like it’s taking forever. All you crave now is a long hot bath, warm dinner, and to crash into bed and your boyfriend’s arms. Nothing more, nothing less. The thought of Joshua waiting for you at home makes you feel slightly better.

“I’m home,” you call out while you take off your shoes and hang your jacket, put away your bag. Slowly you start to feel like a human being again but the exhaustion still weighs heavy on you. You don’t get a response to your greeting, which is unusual, and you try not to overthink it. Has Joshua gone out and forgotten to tell you? That isn’t like him. Fortunately you don’t have to look for your boyfriend for too long.

He’s sitting on the couch, wine glass in hand and sipping the dark liquid slowly while his eyes immediately find yours. He sets the glass down and gives you a smile that looks as tired and forced as yours. He pats his thigh without breaking eye contact.

The tiredness draws back slightly. It’s rare to find Joshua drinking alone, it’s even rarer for him to not greet or say a word to you. Your eyebrows draw together in a worried frown. His demeanor is relaxed but tense - the same tension of a long day that you’re wearing. It doesn’t seem like something serious is going on but that just makes his behavior all the more confusing.

His hands guide you, firm on your waist, to sit on his thigh. Then he brushes your hair away from your face and cups it before leaving a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. It’s the complete opposite to what you expected. Too tender. You don’t sense any anger from him, but he’s… different.

“I missed you,” he finally speaks, barely a whisper. He rubs your noses together and kisses you again when you smile. You can’t help it. Despite your bad day and the mixed signals he’s giving you, he’s still your Shua.

“I missed you too,” you sigh against his lips. His hands fall back down to your waist and then to your hips. You swallow. Over the years you think you’ve gotten pretty good at reading him. It seems impossible now.

“Tell me about your day,” he gives you a smile. His thumbs draw small circles that don’t feel soothing and you suppose they are not supposed to. You squirm and he tuts, squeezing you slightly. You swallow again. This is definitely new.

“It was long, hard,” you admit. Something dark flickers in his eyes. Your mouth feels dry. “Too much work. Completely pointless work that could be avoided if the manager listened to our concerns.”

He makes a sympathetic hum and his hand comes to rub the small of your back. If it’s meant to comfort you or make you straighten up so you sit prettily perched on his thigh, who knows. Either way you can’t but notice how low his hand slides, how you feel small tugs at the fabric of your shirt.

“Uh huh, go on,” Joshua prompts but there’s a far off look in his eyes. Usually it’d worry you. In this moment, however, it only makes a shiver run down your spine. All because his gaze keeps constantly falling to your lips, as if drawn to them with a spell. His whole demeanor is strange and confusing, and the reaction of your own body even more so. You felt so tired, so why is your body heating up? Just from a few touches and a hungry look. You thought you’ve gotten over this phase with him.

“Well, uh, I ended up going out for lunch with some people from the office, so I don’t need to pack anything for tomorrow,” you lick your lips, trying to fight against the sudden dryness in your mouth. His eyes dart to the tiny movement. Your mind is drawing a blank as to what to say now. Your brain short-circuits when his hands comes to slowly rub up and down your thighs.

“That’s nice,” he hums, but it’s so noncommittal that you doubt he even registered what you were saying. His eyes are unfocused, scanning all over your body. It makes your blood rush more. You squirm on his thigh and he gives you a sharp look and another correction. You try to hold his gaze. You’ve never seen his eyes look so piercing. You have to look away.

“W-what about your day?” you ask too quickly.

He gives a long sigh, his hold on your thighs stronger for a second. You’ve already guessed he had a bad day - what else with him still dressed in the clothes he wore when he left in the morning and sipping wine. His hands come to a stop, making you look at him. He studies you for a while.

“Can I touch you, love?” he asks, his voice soft and eyes watching your face for any sign of discomfort. You nod your head, although you don’t know what to expect. You squeak when he suddenly wraps his hands around the undersides of your thighs and helps you straddle him. Swallowing again, shock is written all over your face but it quickly disappears when Joshua smiles at you and resumes the soothing caresses. 

“It was so hard today,” he exhales. He looks even more exhausted from this close. There are already dark circles under his eyes. At least he found the energy to remove his makeup for the night. You wrap your arms around his shoulder and chuckle when he rubs his head against your arm. It only takes a second before he takes a long breath and his face falls again. His eyes watch his hands move over your thighs.

“The recording got pushed back because we got another schedule last minute,” he says as his fingers slip gently under your shirt before pulling back and returning to rubbing your thighs, slowly drawing circles closer and closer to your core without ever getting too close, “It was so hectic. And so loud because everyone was trying to keep the mood up.”

As he speaks, he slowly pushes you further into his lap. His eyes shoot up to see if you’re okay with it. You mean to say something reassuring but then he moves you straight over his bulge and you can only gasp. It’s so hard and hot that you can feel it over the clothing between you and suddenly you understand why your boyfriend was acting so off. 

“I couldn’t rest at all in the car because the manager had to go through the new schedule arrangement and stuff,” his hands keep wandering under your shirt, inch after inch higher every time. You try to stay still, even though his fingertips tickle your sensitive skin and you want to squirm the closer he gets to your chest. “And then he started chatting with Hoshi and they kept dragging me into the conversation, so it was hopeless to try napping - let me see your tits?”

You blink a couple times, shocked by the sudden request among his rant but you quickly recover and take off your shirt and shiver as the cold air hits your skin. You’re not left shivering and craving warmth for long because as soon as the shirt hits the floor, Joshua’s warm hands are caressing your back and his head is buried in your chest. You jump a little but he’s quick to hold your hips down while his lips get busy kissing every inch of the exposed skin they can reach. 

“Shua,” you gasp, hands gripping his hair without pulling. You remind yourself through the haze to calm down and not squirm too much. That’s what he wants. His hands caress your sides and reach behind you when you finally manage to stay still. He plays with the clasp of your bra before undoing it, his lips never stop the attack on your skin. You feel him suck marks all over your exposed breasts. Control is slipping through your fingers but you trust him. You focus on obeying his wish that you stay still and after a long day of thinking, it feels relaxing to follow a simple command.

It’s not what you expected your ‘welcome home’ to be, but it’s perhaps even better. You feel yourself melting under Joshua’s generous attention, body and soul. 

He removes his lips with a pop and leans back, slipping your bra off completely and throwing it somewhere behind you. He hums, pleased with the view and his warm hands cup your breasts, thumbs already circling your hardened nipples. His lips quirk up at your little whines.

“The schedule was a mess,” he carries on with the unpleasant memory, although his voice sounds more lively, “By the time we started recording everyone was tired as hell.”

It’s getting harder not to beg, to actually listen to what he’s saying. He coos at your soft pants, but his gaze gets darker whenever you adjust and squirm over his lap. It’s not that you want to grind on him, but your body reacts instinctively to his touch. You have to admire his self-control. He doesn’t always use sex to blow off steam, but it does happen, and usually you’d already be bent over the nearest surface with Shua kissing your neck and back very sweetly and whispering every praise in the book, desperate edge to his voice and his hips grinding against yours. 

He never begs. Although you suspect it’s only because he doesn’t want to make it seem like he’s expecting you to give into his wishes regardless of how you feel and like he’s trying to coax you into it. Today, however, you think he might and you’re ready to jump at the opportunity.

“And then nothing went well,” he leans his head forward, seeking sanctuary in your chest again. He rests his forehead against your naked chest and his hands fall back to your thighs, “I wasn’t funny at all. I could barely keep my eyes open and my head hurt so much.” 

You hum sympathetically, running your hands through his hair softly. As worked up as you’re getting, your heart hurts for him. You make the decision to grant his every wish today. Where that desire came from is a mystery, hardly a decision - more like an urge you finally get to satisfy. You kiss the top of his head.

“Do you still have the headache?” you ask. He nods. His lips return to idly kissing your skin, slowly, lovingly. You don’t stop massaging his scalp and he sighs against your chest and finally relaxes, enjoying the attention. You stay quiet too. It’s easier to control your body if you only focus on one thing. You feel his length twitch under your core and it sends shivers down your spine.

Then Joshua moves. He tilts his head back and smiles at you. He seems really exhausted, ready to pass out. His eyes, however, tell a different story.

He tilts his head to the side, eyes first on your lips and then they meet your eyes as if asking for permission. You slowly close the distance, closing your eyes as your lips meet. He’s sweet and gentle. It’s a surprise, a complete opposite of what you expected. His tongue darts out to push against your lips and you grant him the access to deepen the kiss. Since he’s sweet, you’re sweet and your fingers thread through his hair carefully without pulling, without any urgency.

“Your lips are the best medicine,” he sighs when you part, not without one more kiss to the corner of your mouth. He licks his lips, looking at you almost shyly for a second before he seemingly steels his resolve. “I think it’d help me feel much much better if you used them somewhere else though.”

Now you understand the second of hesitation.

“Yeah?” you whisper, nudging your nose against his, your hands on his chest. His heart is beating so fast.

“Yeah,” he purrs, “My good girl needs to take care of me. Help me destress.”

Oh. No begging then.

His hand holds the back of your neck firmly. The sudden switch makes you jump. You freeze and surrender all control to him. The pads of his fingers press deliciously into your pulse points, your heartbeat feels like it wrecks through your entire body. You’d let him do anything he wants. 

He pushes you back to his lips. You only follow his lead, softly moaning against his lip as he lazily makes out with you. His cock twitches right under you, but he makes no move to grind against you. It makes you want him more. Is his goal to have you beg for him?

You’re about to give in when he pulls you away, still controlling your movement with a firm hold on your neck. His other hand strokes your hip before gently pushing, motioning for you to get on the ground. So you do. A little too eagerly; it surprises you as well. You felt so tired, and now, just a few kisses and touches later, you’re ready to get down on your knees and take care of your lover.

“You know what to do,” Joshua demands softly. He lets go of your neck and his hand instead settles in your hair. 

As tempting as it is to caress his thighs all over as he did to you, you deny yourself the pleasure. Just once has to be enough. You blink slowly, trying to remember every dip and rise of his muscles under your palms as your hands make way to the zipper of his slacks. He doesn’t help at all beyond raising his hips so you could pull his clothes down enough to free his cock. Only his shirt remains, the tie discarded a long time ago. His hand stays in your hair, sometimes pulling to make you tilt your head this and that way. There doesn’t seem any point in it except his enjoyment. His lips twitch up whenever you follow his hand without hesitation. You feel like you should get used to this kind of treatment.  

“I’m so tired. I worked so hard,” he sighs, “I deserve pampering.”

He doesn’t let you take him into your mouth. His hair tightens in your hair, holding you back. He just raises his eyebrow at you, the expectant look in his eyes no help. You have to swallow the saliva collected in your mouth. His cock is hard and leaking in front of you, begging to be sucked, but it’s not what Joshua wants. So you lean in and start leaving a trail of kisses from his balls to his tip. 

It’s like you’ve uttered a spell. His shoulders drop, all tension gone. His hand runs through your hair and his soft gasps fill the air. He lets you kiss him all over, soon getting too blissed out to notice you leaving a few love bites on his inner thighs. You figure he won’t mind since no one but you would see those marks. 

“More tongue,” he moans.

Of course you oblige. And that’s when he takes control again. Tugging at your hair just enough to guide you, he makes you take care of his throbbing dick and massage it with your tongue. Every kiss you leave between your soft kitten licks to his tip gets rewarded with an equally sweet praise or moan.

You don’t know how long he lets you worship his cock. It soon starts to feel like your head is filled with cotton. All the stress and frustration of the day melts away, all that remains is the feeling of his skin under your tongue, the salty taste of his leaking tip, all the veins settling into their place in your memory.

And suddenly his thumb brushes over your lip and you follow, parting your lips.

Finally.

After Joshua pushes in, slow and gentle with a choked whimper slipping from his lips, he once again leaves all the work to you. You don’t mind. It’s not much different from loving on his cock with your lips and tongue, you just need to make sure his whole length is enveloped in warmth. He feels heavy on your tongue, grounding you before you get too far away. His gaze is equally as grounding, a reassuring pressure to do well. To take care of him. 

You bob your head slowly. His hand is still tangled in your hair and he doesn’t urge for a faster pace. You simply enjoy him; enjoy his soft breathy moans and his panting. You take him deeper and deeper until your throat accommodates him without issue. He sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. His hand pulls at your hair until your eyes water and you whimper.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, darling,” he coos at you, “Feels so good. Lost control.”

You hollow out your cheeks, watch him grit his teeth and struggle to maintain eye contact. Then you slowly ease and back off until only his tip rests in your mouth and take him deep again. It’s rewarding to hear him so vocal, to feel him tense and relax as pleasure washes over him - all the hardships of the day forgotten. He already looks much better than when you came in. 

He was right. He deserves to be pampered. 

“Stay,” he whispers, his hand guiding you to take him all the way in and then holds you there, “Want to feel you.”

What else would you do but exactly as he wishes? Smiling, he pets your head.

“You look so pretty like this,” he rolls his head back with a breathy sigh. His hand is so gentle you barely feel his touch, and your tender scalp is grateful for the break. 

This is right where he wants you and you’re happy to obey. Happy to make him feel good. You didn’t know you had it in you to feel like this, to enjoy slipping into more of a submissive role so much. You focus on breathing slowly through your nose. It’s surprisingly easy. You feel at peace. Your heart swells with pride when he straightens again and his face is relaxed with pleasure, eyes dark with lust. “I wish I could take a pic.”

A whimper rips from your throat before you can do anything, which is just as well. You don’t exactly want to nod with a cock down your throat. Joshua blinks in surprise and his fingers tangle into your hair.

“What was that, love?” he asks, “You like the idea?”

You moan around him again, begging him with your eyes. He smiles, the hand falling from your hair to caress your cheek. The proud look in his eyes is everything you’ll ever need to be happy.

“Suck on it if you want it,” he smirks and you don’t waste a second hesitating. It draws a nice long hiss of surprise from him. You feel like you’d be bouncing on the spot if it wasn’t for the hand on your cheek. You have no idea where the desire is coming from, nor do you care. The only important thing is to be everything that he wants. But then suddenly he seems to sober up a little, his expression grows more serious, and something inside you starts panicking. 

“Need some more consent-” he starts saying, but you don’t wait to hear the rest of it. So fast he doesn’t get to stop you, you try to pull off his cock. Only when just the head rests on your tongue you feel so empty it crushes your little heart and you can’t do it, but you can’t speak with him filling your mouth either. You’re about to turn to silently begging Joshua again - he’s faster than you though.

His fingers curl around your jaw, firm enough to almost hurt, and he makes you look at him. He doesn’t look angry, but you find yourself holding your breath anyway. “Keep my cock in your pretty mouth, don’t you dare think of doing anything else.”

You whine softly, suckling on the head as an apology. You swirl your tongue around it, watching in real time as your little mistake gets forgotten and forgiven. Finally you notice the hand back at the back of your head and you’re so happy you could cry. Seems like he realizes your fragile happiness now when he speaks again.

“Good girl, doing so well,” he praises, the fingers holding your jaw stroking you gently, “Couldn’t get off my cock at all.”

You hum happily, sucking him further in and closing your eyes in bliss. 

“I wanted to say that if you’re really okay with me taking pictures of you like this, just tap my thigh twice.”

All he has to do is say the words and your hand does just as he asks. His eyes sparkle just like yours at your enthusiasm. He bites his lip but the mischievous smirk makes way to his lips anyway.

“You’re a dream,” he groans, leaning down and kissing the top of your head, “You’re so good for me, looking so pretty. Take me deeper, yeah?”

Then he pulls away and moves the pillows around to find his phone. You have your own task to focus on, slowly taking him in all the way and then bobbing your head just as leisurely. Your thighs squeeze on their own at the quiet growl that catches in Joshua’s throat. 

He looks so handsome, hair a mess and his eyes unfocused, movements not as controlled as they usually are. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, not even when he finds the device and starts fidgeting with his phone. The rational remains of your brain still present thought you’d mind, but all you can think now is that this is the perfect view. 

This is just the right place for you. It’s strangely therapeutic not to have to think about anything. All you have to do is feel him. Your jaw might hurt, but you can ignore it for his sake. Tomorrow doesn’t exist yet. The easy glide of his cock in and out of your mouth feels satisfying, the weight of him on your tongue is reassuring. You can always rest when his cock nudges the back of your throat and you know you’re doing well. It feels soothing. Simply knowing you’re pleasing him while he’s doing his things. You should do this more often, you think.

You’re pulled close to his body again, your nose brushing against his navel. A cheerful hum makes its way from your throat at the action and at the slight pressure of his hand at the back of your head.

“Still okay with this, baby?” he asks from behind his phone. You can’t see his face properly, but something about it makes your body feel hotter. You whine, tapping his thigh twice again just to be sure your answer is clear. You don’t see his expression, but you hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again: “What about a short video? Just for me to enjoy when I’m away.”

Usually you’d feel a pang of pain at the notion of distance separating you, but in the headspace you’re in now only serving him exists, only making him happy. So you give him two more taps.

“So good, so perfect.” You hear the smile in his voice and it makes you more eager to fulfill his every wish. “Just follow my lead, yeah?”

He doesn’t have to ask. You’d do anything for him, as long as it meant helping him shake off the bad day he had. Your own gets forgotten and healed from in the process.

His instructions start off literally - his fingers grab a fistful of your hair and pull you back, and you follow without hesitation, without protests or teasing, dragging your tongue against the underside of his cock. He guides you roughly, setting up a fast pace that leaves you struggling to breathe and making a mess. You feel saliva dripping down your chin. Your eyes get teary. You look at the camera and hear Joshua gasp for breath. The tears fall but he pushes you more, controlling all your movements and it’s a bliss. Now you can just let him use you to pleasure himself. You moan shamelessly, dutifully sucking on his cock like your life depends on it when really it’s just your pride.

The camera moves closer to your face, and yet you don’t mind. He pushes you to take him fully into your mouth, and you just moan and swallow around him. Your eyes close in pleasure. He’s so strong. Something about him being this domineering excites you. Despite it being new, you feel safe. Even though you can’t see him, even though he’s recording you. You suckle on him, pushing against his dick with your tongue. You hear his heavy breathing. You want to do better just for him.

And he gives you a chance and removes his hand. You take it as a go ahead to do whatever you want and take advantage of it.

You pull off almost completely and tease his tip with your tongue, licking the precum from his slit, pushing against it until you see the shiver running through his body. Then you suck hard. Slowly taking him in deep again with your eyes meeting the camera, straining your hearing to get all the pretty noises he makes. You can picture it in your head - his lips parted, eyes fighting to stay open to see it all. He’s so so pretty. Your perfect lover.

You repeat the process a few times, giving him only a short break with a few quick and shallow bobs of your head. Sometimes you look at the camera without a warning, noting his knuckles turning white where he grips the pillow. You see the veins on his neck. You suppose he wants the filthy sound of the spit and your occasional gags to be heard on the audio instead of his voice.

It’s when you’re softly sucking on his head again that he strokes your head and gets your attention on him - him. He lowers the phone just enough so you can see him as his fingers find purchase in your hair again and hold you firmly in place. He stands up, and you know what he’s asking. 

What else can you answer but the two taps? Only a needy whimper as your eyes water with need.

He laughs, breathy and disbelieving. And then it’s a blur.

“You’re really a dream. So perfect.”

You brace yourself, so you don’t gag when he thrusts into your mouth, but he’s gentle. You blink up and he’s still looking at you. His pupils are blown out but his eyes are so soft. He doesn’t allow you to move, so you can’t nuzzle to his thigh, but you wish you could. Only Joshua could make you feel this happy and loved while he’s fucking your mouth. You wink at him, to reassure him you’ll be fine - and you know you’ll be when he smiles and shakes his head before raising the camera higher to only see you through the screen. 

“You’re driving me crazy. You were made for me.”

He increases his pace gradually, allowing you to get used to it before he starts using you for real. You gag a couple times, you recover fast though. Your jaw is going numb but it’s so worth it. So fucking worth it when he can’t hold back and he moans before quickly pressing his lips into a thin line. It’s a pointless effort. The sounds in the rooms are an obscene mix of his groans and moans, your own moans, wet sounds of you sucking him deeper and deeper with every stroke of his hips.

You want him to cum. You want him to fill your mouth with his cum or just shoot it down your throat. You need it. 

His cock is twitching against your tongue and you want to push him over the edge. There’s a desperate edge to his voice that makes it sound like he’s whimpering and you join him. You want him to cum so much. You look up to the camera with your wet eyes and tears you don’t really feel running down your cheeks. He breathes out your name as he sheaths himself entirely inside you and holds you there.

You really want him to cum. It’s so tempting to keep sucking, to tease him with your tongue. But you don’t. You hear his labored breathing and know it wouldn’t take much to get him there. But he doesn’t want to yet, and so you accept that you still have to earn it. You see his fingers move over the screen and he puts his phone away.

Both his hands are cupping your cheeks in the next second. His thumbs wipe your tears away. He holds you so tenderly, his expression equally loving. You lean into his touch a little. You resist rubbing your face against his palm, obeying his silent order to stay still.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he sighs, out of breath, “Do you know what you do to me?”

You can feel exactly what you’re doing to him, but the verbal validation still feels nice. You hum softly - oops. You check that he’s not mad. He just looks drunk in love.

“I didn’t take any pics yet,” he admits sheepishly, “Can you be pretty for me a bit longer?”

Forever, you want to answer. But you can’t, so you just hum again and tap his thigh twice.

“You listen so well,” he taps your nose the same way. Chuckling when you scrunch your nose at him, he quickly picks up his phone again to snap the picture.

“So cute,” he smiles fondly, pulling away his other hand to give you freedom.

You keep your eyes on his when you slide up his dick and open wide, the tip of his cock resting heavy and weeping on your tongue. You watch his throat bob as he swallows and snaps a couple more pictures. You’d hate him to feel cold though, so you wrap your lips around him again and embrace his cock in your warm mouth. His every vein presses against your tongue, so familiar now. You can trace them easily and feel them pulse. 

Joshua looks unreal above you. His hair sticks to his sweaty forehead and he’s trembling with every swipe of your tongue. Just clicking the pics when he sees a view he likes or guiding you into a certain position seems to be a tremendous effort for him. His hand is shaking slightly and his cock is twitching, and all you have is admiration for his self control and gratefulness that it allows you to keep sucking him off. 

He thrusts all the way back in until he hits the back of your throat and your eyes roll back, the perfect feeling of his cock dragging across your tongue, every veins prominent and you want to memorize all of them. The whimper the visual pulls from his lips is sinful. You feel him twitch in your mouth and will your eyes to open and give him a pleading look. 

You need his cum.

“Shit, baby,” he pants, “Sorry, yeah, I need to fuck you right now.”

He all but throws his phone away. You squeal happily around the length in your mouth when he grabs your hair and holds you in place. It’s cute to watch the concern in his eyes switch back to filthy lust when he sees your excitement to get your mouth fucked. You don’t need his concern, you only need him to use you and fill you up. 

You’d happily beg if it didn’t mean getting off his cock.

No such thing is necessary though. He gives it to you without begging or waiting, snapping his hips against your mouth and you take it. You keep your hands behind your back and give yourself to him completely. He keeps you still just the way he wants and you need to fight to keep your eyes open. You feel tears streaming down your face, the spit dripping everywhere but you don’t care. Only Shua is important.

And Joshua right now looks like an angel. His face is twisted with desperation that drives him crazy. He looks like he’s glowing. The noises he makes are music to your ears. You’ve never heard him this vocal and his whimpers alone are enough to make you decide that kneeling at his feet completely at his mercy is the spot where you belong.

He watches you with hooded eyes, breathing laboured and hitching with every thrust. He’s close. You know it, and you coax him closer and closer to climax, sucking him in deeper. His eyes are getting watery too as his hips start losing their rhythm. You whine with him, as greedy for his orgasm as he is.

And then your mouth is empty. 

Joshua pulls out, jerking himself just an inch away from your face, and despite missing the perfect weight and girth in your mouth, you want to be good for him. You close your eyes and stick out your tongue. 

With your eyes closed, you can focus only on the sounds. He’s cursing under his breath, words slurred and high-pitched. You don’t get to enjoy them much, however, as in the next second you feel warm droplets splattering all over your face. You hear him struggling to breathe, a feeling that you miss. You whimper to him, and as if understanding, he shoves his cock back all the way down your throat and you finally feel fulfilled and satisfied. Probably most you ever did. You moan around him, sucking his dick like you won’t get the chance again, milking him completely dry. 

“Easy, easy, love,” he whimpers. His knees shake and threaten to give up and he braces himself with his hands on your shoulders. So you suck harder and feel as a few stray tears escape from his eyes and drip on your face. Pleased with your little act of rebellion, you return to obedience. You bob your head slowly, gently suckling on him. His breathing starts to slow down, but he still sounds out of breath. You wish you could look at him, unfortunately it’s not exactly fun to have cum in your eyes, so you have to be patient. 

His breath still shakes when he starts softening and pulls out of your mouth, his hands immediately caressing your jaw. You hear him chuckle when you swallow and lick your lips for more.

“So good for me,” he whispers before leaning down and kissing the top of your head, “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

You listen closely to his every move. Now that he’s not inside you, doesn’t touch you, and you can’t even see him, you start to feel lonely. Kind of. It feels like you’re surrounded by nothingness, and it’s not a pleasant sensation. The void is pressing on you from all sides and you try to blindly reach for him but can’t find him.

“I’m here, darling,” as if reading your find, Joshua’s hand finds yours. His thumb caresses the back of your hand. The scary emptiness suddenly doesn’t feel so scary or empty. You hear some rustling, familiar one. Since he must be close and given the situation, you realize it must be the pack of wet wipes he keeps under the coffee table for when you eat messy food. Though it’s obviously useful for times like this too. 

You hear him fumbling with his pants next, and then he’s moving again and you feel him step back into your personal space. The only thing stopping you from rubbing your face on his thigh like a cat is the cum on your face.

“Stay still,” he instructs softly before he starts gently wiping down your face. You do just as he told you, letting him first swipe the tissue around your eyes. His hand steadies you, allowing you to rest your chin on his palm. He chuckles seeing your blind trust, obedient like a little puppy. 

You’re leaning into his touch as soon as you’re clean. Before you can open your eyes, you feel his lips brush against yours. You panic, flinching back. When you blink up at him, there’s a frown on his face.

“Darling?” he asks gently. His fingers caress your skin and he squats down not to tower over you anymore. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just-” you sigh, “I just, you know, did that, so-”

“Love,” Joshua chuckles, already leaning back in, “Do you think I care if I taste my cum if it means I get to kiss you?”

His lips brush against yours and this time you give in. Unlike before he takes his time. When he pulls you closer, he makes sure to gather you in his arms as if you should break if he doesn’t. When he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t go far. His lips move to your forehead and kiss you every step of the way to lay you down on the couch.

“When have I ever minded kissing you right after you blew me, hm?” he teases, his smile soft and eyes fond. He’s almost unrecognizable. 

You just smile shyly and tug on his sleeve before he can move away. He tilts his head, questioning.

“Lay down with me,” you whisper, “Please.”

“Are you sure? Do you not want me to take care of you?” he checks with you as his hand cups your cheek. 

“Just wanna cuddle,” you shake your head. He coos at you, pressing a kiss to your hair while he promises to only get a blanket from the armchair and come back. Your eyes follow him. It’s just a step away but it feels too far.

“Are you hungry? I know you ate with your coworkers but you had a long day and I ordered some takeout before you came or I can bring you some snacks if you’re still full,” he rambles as he covers you with the blanket and sits at the edge of the sofa to pet your hair.

“You actually paid attention?” you frown. He chuckles.

“I always pay attention,” he boops your nose, “No matter how horny I am.”

You groan and hide your face into his thigh, making him laugh. He lets you stay like that though, at least until you tug on his sleeve again and he nods at the reminder. Before he joins you, however, he shrugs off his shirt. He learned very early on into your relationship that you appreciate the skin to skin contact, especially when you need comfort.

“Thank you,” you murmur, already snuggled up close to him. His arms envelop you and pull you closer, always protective when you’re not one hundred perfect feeling like yourself. He starts playing with your hair again.

“Love you,” he coos, “So I take it you’re not hungry?”

“I’m starving,” you sigh, “Just give me a minute.”

“I should file a complaint. Or send a mean email to your work friends,” he hums, “They usually never send you home hungry.”

You shake your head with a smile he can’t see.

“There was too much work,” you explain, “So we had to grab a quick lunch at the place downstairs and it wasn’t the best choice. At least I have the lunch my perfect boyfriend made waiting for me tomorrow.”

“I appreciate the title,” he says and emphasizes his gratitude by squeezing you in his arms and a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re perfect too,” he whispers after a second, “You made me feel really good. So so good. My headache is all gone.”

You huff and poke his side. You’re glad he can’t see you getting shy, although he can probably tell anyway.

“Just keep the evidence safe,” you remind him. And suddenly there’s a hand tilting your chin so he can look at you.

“Love, if you changed your mind I can delete everything,” he assures you, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. You shake your head. It takes a lot of effort to move and kiss him but you do it.

“No, I… I like the idea of you having those pictures and videos,” you admit and lick your lips, “I’m just anxious. I trust you - just, you know.”

“I know,” he nods, “But if you ever stop being comfortable with it, just say the word, yeah?”

You hum in agreement, ready for the conversation to end. You’d much rather kiss him again. Joshua is always the softest after sex, more so if he was on the receiving end. Of course he easily obliges with your wishes. His warm hands caress your body and his lips shower you with more praise between kisses.

You know he’d prefer it if you ate now, knowing that you’re hungry, yet he lets you make yourself comfortable again and rest your head in the crook of his neck. You’re getting sleepy, food could wait until morning anyway. You’d much rather just rest like this, curled up with him under the blanket with his heart beating steadily under your palm. It’s impossible to think rationally and make yourself obey your stomach instead of your heart. 

Especially when you know that if you get too tired to eat, he’ll let you lean on him and feed you until he’s sure you’re well taken care of.

He’s making it too easy to let him coddle you.

[changingplumbob]

First Round - Day two (Luther group)

Kristina: I love this place! It's so big

Nathalie: You don't think it's bugged do you

Alaina: We're on a reality show. If every single room doesn't have a microphone then someone didn't do their job. Aren't I smart *looks deliberately at camera*

Kay: I think is going to be fun!

Kristina: Kay did you get the room by mine? I reserved it for you

Nephinae: Of course you did

Nephinae storms off leaving the group confused.

Nephinae (voiceover): Kristina just gets on my nerves. And then she goes stealing my emotional support bestie? She's lucky I didn't clock her in the face- shout out to my past therapist Dale for teaching me not to punch people when I get angry. I just needed a minute to cool off

Alaina: She's interesting

Kristina: More like needlessly dramatic, I hope I didn't make you feel awkward Kay

Kay: *smiles* Not at all, it's nice to feel included

Abigail: Your ex sounds like utter garbage and I hope if I ever made him coffee it was terrible

Kristina: Oh you should have- no I probably shouldn't say what ingesting that plant does on tv

Alaina: *laughing* Remind me not to get on your bad side Kristina

Nathalie had disappeared outside to find Nephinae, but is it worth approaching a riled up hot head?

Nathalie: *scared* Thank goodness you're out here, there must be less microphones out here

Nephinae: *chuckling* the microphones are mainly where the cameras are Nat

Nathalie: That's what you think but I'm sure there's bugs hidden everywhere!

Sighing Nephinae leads Nathalie inside where they do a thorough inspection of the kitchen for any secret bugs.

Nephinae: See? Only two mics that aren't very hidden because they need to pick up sound

Nathalie: Someone must have moved the extras when we were outside! That'll be it darling

Upstairs Kay and Alaina have found the table tennis table, and decide to use it for its intended purpose.

Alaina: Best of five?

Kay: Have you ever played before

Alaina: No but how hard can it be

It was in fact very hard and most of the balls ended up raining down in the kitchen or front hall...

Nephinae (from the kitchen): Holy Cowplant! That one hit me on the head

Kay: Sorry!

Nathalie: I was just saying darling that if you dressed more your age-

Abigail: Save it. I don't want to listen to out there ideas all through lunch

Kristina: Abby Nathalie may have different fashion ideas than you do but it doesn't make her weird

Nephinae: She's just... adventurous

Alaina: Deanna there you are! Come sit by me for lunch

Deanna did not choose to sit by Alaina for lunch.

...

Alaina: I was just saying acting is a skill everyone- certainly every woman should have. Are you trying to say you've never acted to sell any of those nursery plants

Kristina: I say the truth about the plants, it's what the customers deserve

Nathalie: I was once a background actor in a laundry powder commercial. I had to fall in a patch of mud six times

Abigail: And I'm not allowed to say that was weird?

Kay: You didn't think of sticking to acting then Nathalie?

...

Nephinae: We found two in here

Nathalie: *nervous* But there's got to be more

Deanna: How else could they capture all the cute moments

Kristina: Yes we have to remember we are being recorded by cameras anyway

Kay: It's not so bad Nathalie. If you think about it maybe... I want to say 80% of what they record won't actually be used

Abigail: At least that many customers I serve don't even look at the latte art

...

Nephinae (voiceover): You could say my morning was... rough. Yeah my temper got the better of me so that kind of slowed the bonding. It was nice that Nathalie came to check on me though. At least I think she wanted to, she may just have wanted to unload her fears. Anyway for skill time I figured I should work on my charisma. I've fixed worse relationships than I have here so far, I can bring things back

Kay (voiceover): Things are going well. People seem to like me which is new, I don't really have friends outside my family anymore. And Deanna sat by me at lunch! We didn't get much talking done with some of the others having problems so hopefully I can get a solo date. In that mind I decided to work on charisma for the skill building time, I'll need to make the most of conversations I manage to fit in

Kristina (voiceover): Part of me wishes Nephinae could be a grown up and ignore whatever negative first impression she has of me... But the other part of me says be genuine. If you dislike me so be it, but don't think Deanna won't find out, her sister is co-producer after all. Anyway with all my brothers, I'm used to squabbles. I worked on charisma for the skill time today, I figured it was a good first choice

Abigail (voiceover): Something just got me annoyed this morning. Was it that I spilled my coffee or that some people seem to treat me like a child? Let's go with both! *sighs* I think they're all cool but I don't think it's mutual yet, maybe I should host a campaign on an off day. People can bond when faced with an army of goblins. Anyway I did logic for the skill time, very necessary

Alaina (voiceover): What a great start, love some drama I can appear superior to. Sure I invited Deanna to sit with me but I figured Kay would distract her. You bet I'm going to dazzle the industry with the time I'm here though, just watch me win Deanna back over. Anyway what was the question? Oh skill, right. I worked on charisma, not that I really need it but still

Nathalie (voiceover): My paranoia does get worse around strangers, I admit that darling. I may be *shudders* last but I am just going to show her what she is missing out on. Then when she inevitably breaks up with whichever patsy "wins" she'll know to call me. I spoke to my mirror for the skill time but really, why would I need more charisma? It already is my best strength

Another cloudy evening meant another indoor meal. Most of the contestants had settled down from the emotional roller-coaster of the morning and the talking was a lot lighter.

Kay: You made this yourself? It's delicious

Deanna: Thank you, I'm trying to work on my cooking

Nephinae: You should try out using a juice fizzer, I think you'd enjoy it

Kristina: You can make all sorts in one of those right

Nephinae: Absolutely

...

Abigail: It is a lot of writing really. I mean you can't just do one path you know?

Deanna: In case the group want to like do something unconventional?

Abigail: Exactly! You don't want to be caught completely unaware

Kay: It sounds like a lot of fun! We should do a... what are they called? On our day off

Kristina: A campaign!

Nathalie: Or we could not act like 5 year olds and-

Alaina: How dare you, I am five years old

...

With dinner tidied away the group head to the lounge to watch a film.

Kay: I'm surprised we're not watching one of Devin's films

Alaina: No need, I've seen them all as a student of film

Nathalie: I thought you were a waitress

Alaina: I am, doesn't mean I don't know I'm going to end up acting. What are you trying to say about Abby?

Abigail: *sighs* Leave me out of it

Abigail (voiceover): Don't get me wrong, waitresses do much needed work. But I'm a barista. It's like calling a landscape architect a lawn mower. Those two seem determined to misunderstand each other

Kay: How do you think they built that set?

Nephinae: Most likely an overlay of plaster that has the detail on top of the existing structure

Kristina: That's fascinating. And they got the plants right. The amount of times I've seen movies with trees in the wrong climate. What do you think of the plot Abby?

Abigail: Huh? Oh well I did guess that he was really her father

Nathalie: Darling do you do black magic?

Abigail: No... I just know how stories are structured from playing so many games

Deanna: It's a very impressive trick

With the film over most of the ladies headed to bed. Deanna had some time chatting with Kristina, Kay and Nephinae who stuck around for another hour or two.

Nephinae: Goodnight Deanna, sorry about my attitude this morning

Deanna: That's fine, it's stressful

Nephinae: Thanks for understanding *embraces*

Nathalie (voiceover): Why should I have stayed talking to Deanna? Someone may as well wash the dishes

Sims created by: @bakersimmer, @berrysims-lp, @daedriyth, @hashimasims, @invisiblequeen, @lostinsixam

[askanonbinary]

Hey, im looking to understand more about non binary people. I am strongly feminist and support equal rights etc, but im stuggling with understanding an aspect of people being non binary. What is the difference between being able to present and exist freely in any way one wants, while still being male or female, and being non binary?

I have been wondering if it is the standards and expectations of each gender that is too limiting, making people feel like they have to break out of the gender to be the way they want. It seems i might get pushback on this, which is okay. But i wonder what the difference is between being a man or woman who dresses and acts in any way they like, and a non binary person?

The one worry i have about the internet "culture" of different and specific gender labels is that especially girls who dont feel like they fit in society's very limiting definition of "girl" will remove themselves from the gender rather than be a part of widening the definition.

Could you give me your thoughts on these things?

So I went and looked at your blog and you seem like a normal person, rather than a bigot, so I'm going to take this earnestly and introduce you to what I call "Dome Theory."

Okay, so think about gender in two parts. There’s what is called the “activity of gender” and there’s what is called the “feeling of gender.” The activity of gender would be your participation in things like masculinity and femininity. So as a woman, wearing makeup or dresses. As a man, enjoying sports and physical tasks. This is really limiting, you're right. And when people come up against the limits of it, that might send them to question the feeling of gender. The feeling of gender is a little more complicated though. Because you can feel like your gender for a number of reasons, most of which will be hard to put into words… but you don’t have to participate in the acts that correspond with your gender to feel that.  So you don’t have to be feminine to be a woman or masculine to be a man. Which is a space a lot of people find themselves in when they question, rather than deciding they don't feel like a woman.

I think understanding what I mean, though, requires a bit of understanding of what it means to "feel" your gender. So to explain, I like to go with a metaphor I call “the domes.”  So you know how in the Hunger Games, the games are based in these domes that have their own geography, ecosystems, climate, terrain separate from The Capitol outside?  Well imagine that like gender.  

So for simplicity’s sake, I’m going to focus on men and women and I’m going to reduce the action of gender to one behavior. Just know it’s obviously a tad more complicated. So there are these two domes that have different geography, ecosystems, climate, and terrain based on the action of doing that gender. So let’s say women swim and men climb trees.  So the “woman” dome would have lots of water and docks and you learn to swim. It would be warm so that swimming is comfortable… that kind of stuff. Now, you could be good, bad, or mediocre at swimming (being feminine)… but if you feel like you belong there, that’s your gender.  The feeling of gender is how you feel about being placed in that dome.  A cis woman would be put into this dome as a baby and she wouldn’t feel wrong about being placed there… so she grew up learning to swim and didn’t feel bad or wrong about the climate or geography or terrain of your dome… It didn’t feel *wrong* to her.  That’s how she got her feeling of gender. But let’s say there'a a trans guy.. He would have been placed in the same “women’s” dome with her when he was a baby but he felt off about it. 

Say perhaps he wasn’t good at swimming. Or maybe he was but he just didn’t like it. Or maybe it wasn’t the swimming that bothered him, it just felt too hot in there. Or maybe it was something else.  Whatever it was, he looked outside of the dome and saw a dome right next to him where people climbed trees to get around. They swung on ropes to get from tree to tree and it looked so cool!  

They built houses and stores up in the trees.  There was water to drink and use, but not many people swam in it too much. the forest was dense and beautiful. He decided to take a trip over there and try out that dome. The second he walked in, it felt like home. He could be good, bad, mediocre at climbing tress, he could still swim… but for the most part, that dome just felt like home to him. It felt right. He felt off about being put in the woman’s dome, so he went looking for another place to be. 

Now, for nonbinary people, there are an infinite number of possibilities for domes. Your dome could be about any one thing, it could be about 3 things and really niche, it could change, you could just be out in the open. That's me, I made my own way in a non-binary open space. But we could have so many different domes for those of us who aren't in the man dome or the woman dome. And this, I hope illustrates what takes place in the questioning phase and how someone could find they don't fit in the very small bit of femininity/womanhood, which might lead them to question... but that isn't what the identity of nonbinary rests on.

Does that make sense? Do you have any follow up questions? I encourage discussion

-Mod Zoe Leo

[lanalosty0uu]

⋆.˚ EPILOGUE ᝰ.ᐟ

⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗

warnings: more angst!!!!!!

main masterlist! | general masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x fem! reader

⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗ ⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.⊹₊ˎˊ˗ ⋆.˚. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊

Summer 2030

There you were, back again in Hawkins, Indiana, after years of not going there. Mrs. Byers happily let you stay again at her place, not that she would mind if she could get a helping hand from you. She even confessed that 5 years of not having your help around the house felt pretty awful.

“Mrs. Byers, is it okay if I head out for awhile? Been missing this town like crazy.”

“You need company, dear? I can get ready now if you want to.”

You refused, not wanting her to look for clothes in such hastle just to accompany you looking back around the town, especially to a one special place that you remember vividly.

A trip to the uphill felt really tiring as your headphones wrapped around your ears, connecting to the Walkman someone gave you. But, it wasn’t this tiring though, since you came here with someone.

As you reached the top, you spotted an old man, sitting down on some sort of picnic blanket by himself. You walked up near him silently as you lower your headphones, not wanting to disturb his peace.

“Such a nice day to relax, huh?” The man let out words when he noticed your presence on that hill.

You turned your head towards him, a bit surprised for the sudden start of conversation. “Yeah, it sure does.”

The man fully turned his head towards face yours and his face shocked you. A familiar sweet smile plastered on his face, beautiful brown eyes, and perfectly brushed hair that is turning gray.

“You’re here alone?”

His oddly familiar voice and appearance made you speechless, not knowing what to reply.

“Come sit, I can use some company.”

He patted the space next to him, offering you some food that he probably brought from home. You wondered if his wife made it at home and packed it up for him.

“Hey, uhh… have I seen you somewhere, kid? Your face feels oddly familiar.”

You felt tears blurring your vision, eyes getting hot from the fact that you’re trying to hold back tears at his words, at his appearance, at his soothing face. He was everything you remembered.

A tear slipped out of your eye and he noticed it. A concerned look immediately went accros his face.

“Hey, are you okay? Why are you crying?”

He turned his whole body to you, making your breath hitched.

“No, uhh…” You tried as hard as you can to find the right words. “You look just like someone I knew, sorry…” You wiped off your tears quickly, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s a small town, yeah? People always seemed familiar to everyone here…”

His eyes went away, breaking the eye contacts with you, staring at the beautiful scenery of Hawkins.

“I used to come here with someone on this exact day, we did… things that I can barely remember. I can’t even seem to recall her face. She felt like… like a damn dream. But I know she was real, and whatever we did back then… I know it was beautiful.”

He confessed, as if you’re not some stranger who just randomly sat down with him in the middle of a hill.

“Funny… I used to have a memory like that as well. Same day, same place.”

He let out a chuckle. The sound I haven’t heard in a really long time.

“Guess people here have lots of things in common.”

“Yeah, Steve… they do.”

He let out another chuckle, this time seemed amused that you knew his name.

“You even know my name! How funny.”

I sighed at his comment, accepting the fact that he doesn't remember me, or any of our memories that he specifically did with me, back in summer 1985, when you had to go back to the future and end all the things that happened between you and him. Yet, your paths crossed once again, like how the both of you used to wished before letting go of each other.

All the things you did with Steve Harrington just felt like a fever dream. The ones that felt like never happened.

note: idk if u guys cried reading the epilogue but i do... several times... i know i'm cruel for making this one sorry... love y'all <3

taglist: @xprloki @pupwrites @gorlillaglue25 @lovestrucklyuniverse @keerysfolklore @www-interludeshadow-com @pleasantsoulcolor @mochminnie @steviespookie @damon-loves-pie @imjustdreamingig @starkleila @2602moon @negomi123 @currentresidentinhell @ucannotcompare @lilgreensunshine @talkativecarnation @bllshtbel

[bleedingichorhearts]

Hello, as far as I understood I can write write a request here. Is it possible for you to write the next part of "Fitful dance" (Emperor of mankind x reader) or something else with yandere! Emps? (Add hot kiss pls)

"Hello! I heed your call, do not worry. I remember. All keep in mind that I have other requests too. Patience is quality and key." - Ichor

Tagged - "@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000.”

TW: Yandere, Bulling Emps' For The Fun of It, Hot Kiss Acquired.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| {Chapter II}

The Emperor has not yet decided for you to be in his universe. At least, not just yet. He was more interested on... avoiding his duties for a while, and well. He can see the… undesirable consequences he could get from just snatching you up. Even if he really wants to. He's going to be... strategic about how he wants to take you in more ways than one. He didn't become a being of power for being unwise.

If he were to take you back now it would not doubt... frazzle you. You would be out of your element, not that he would be complaining. You would be more "satiable" to his advances, and you wouldn't know of his world that he plans to plant you in. So, that's another plus, but the only reason he hasn't taken you back yet is because of his own creations. His sons: Some would hate you, not that he would really care either, but others would... grow on you. He knows it, and it's not a thought he can particularly think through.

"So, uhh, how did you find my address?" Your question brings him back to this reality. His eyes not even blinking as he turns to look at you. A small, charming smile appearing on his face.

"Who would I be if I told you?" He answers you, and you're not amused by it. That sounded incredibly cryptic, potentially dangerous in all ways. For one: He could be some mafia boss. Two? A hitman playing as a charming prince. Three? A playboy trying to get on your nerves and your pants.

"Alright then..." You say, gathering your thoughts the best you can without freaking out of how in the hells he even found you. Your brain trying to make sense that he would be that of option 1 or 2 in a more likely way. "Let me rephrase: Who are you?"

"Hmm, smart one, are you?" He smiles a bit too brightly again, and you have an itch to tell him to stop smiling. "Many called me Anathema."

"Anathema?" You repeat his words, rising your brow. Disbelief written on your face. "That sound like a girls' name. At most, a sort of medical condition."

"Amusing, isn't it?" He laughs; it sounds forced. His long ass legs shifting their weight while he stands in the middle of your living room and you on your couch. "For your inquiry, it means monstrosity or a curse."

"Why would your parent name you that?" You let your mind speak for you, not at all regretful of them. This dude did just walk up to your house and won't tell you how he got your address. You deserve some recompense for that.

"Bold too." He more like comments, his tone going neutral, almost boring-like. His eyes looking you over as if he was debating something. Not answering your question.

"Well, you are not sunshine and rainbows yourself, clearly." You muse at the man, shifting yourself on your couch to sit up straighter. "You won't tell me how you got my address. Thats a red flag you know."

"Red flag?" He tilts his head a centimeter to his right, giving you a risen brow. "What do you speak off?"

"Seriously?" You match his expression, looking him over yourself as if he asked you a dumb ass question, and he practically did. "You all dressed up like you own thousands of corporates, dancing at parties, pulling random people towards you, and stalking me to my address is not alarming to you? Have you lost your logic? Your Common sense?"

He pauses to think on your words that would have gotten you killed for even questioning him and insulting him in all one go. His eyes seemingly going through you as he thinks upon your words. This "red flag" explanation you give is something that is... unsafe; dangerous, and well if he is thinking logical... he was one such in a way.

"You speak ill of me." He states, narrowing his amber eyes at you that seem to shift to a golden color for a split second. The smallness of such a reveal causing the hairs on your neck to rise.

"Yeah, no shit sherlock." Yet, you continue to use the foul words against him. Your world able to speak more freely than his world... Something that he misses but also hates at the same time. That freedom of speech, but also the restriction of it.

"You always talk to new bas- people like this?" He questions you, tilting his head to his left this time. His hands stuffed in the front pockets of his suit pants. "I do not recall you dismissing my dance so easily."

"To people that somehow have my address, yes." You nod, standing up from the couch and brushing yourself off. "And for your inquiry, that was not a dance nor an invitation."

"Really?" He challenges you, looking down at you even when you stand up. His hair waving as if a small draft was inside of your own home. "You were rather quite gentle in your... teachings."

"So, you did notice that I was silently teaching you something." You step forward into his space, looking up at him. His hands in his pockets itching to come out and grasp at you but holds himself still, for a moment. "Yet you cannot notice how coming to my home without an explanation is something you can't learn? Man, what did your parents teach you? Nothing?"

"My, you certainly have a tongue on you..." He comments, the area around you shifting to something darker, intimidating. A random breeze of chill going down your spine.

"I believe I have the right to be so." You huff, folding your arms over your chest, never faulting with the man. "You won't tell me jack shit-!"

One of his gloved hands fly out from his pocket and swipe forward, grasping a bit tightly at your neck and pulling you in close. The simple, hidden touch sending a shiver down his own spine while he kisses you with sudden roughness that it surprises you. Your hands only able to come up and settle on his chest to stabilize yourself. His form taller than yours as he makes himself to be that way.

You can feel how his lips press against yours. His tongue coming to pry them apart and slide through your teeth to taste your own tongue that doesn't recuperate back. A pleased hum escaping his as he tilts his head a bit more to shove his tongue anywhere inside of your mouth as he pleases, taking advantage of your surprise. His eyes a bit more of a glowing, golden color while he keeps you still within his grasp, making you stay in place just in case before he pulls away with that bright ass grin again, his tongue licking up the combined saliva as if it was a noodle. His hand on your neck moving to cradle your cheek with his thumb under your earlobe.

"Have anything else foul to say?" He purrs slightly, thumbing at you. His tongue licking his teeth inside of his mouth before his lips. His amber eyes watching you with amusement at how dumbfounded you look.

"Next time, I'm shoving a pencil down your throat." You threaten him with a growl, shoving him away, or more like pushing yourself off him as he stays in his place. His hands moving to behind his back.

"Oh? So, there is a next time?" He rumbles sweetly, keeping up that annoying ass grin. A few of your nerves breaking at his cockiness.