#they got their own tastes in tea parties. . .

[midnightcrustcat]

oh a tea party !!!

[beloveds-embrace]

duke au angst, but könig isn’t a knight. He’s either not in it and reader just sinks into a pit of depression and withdrawals so much that rumours start speculation around the ton that reader is either dead or murder and it starts to take a toll on john reputation (they start going after why him, simon, johnny and kyle are so close) or a könig is an Austrian duke/way closer to royalty and when he’s over for business with John and/or simon, he and the reader hit it off (much to the boys dismay) and reader plans on leaving without a word, leaving nothing more than a vague letter that details why and a set of divorce papers (helped achieved by könig) and by the time they realise their mistake readers already living the high life in austria

….okay but the first one’s got me downright obsessed, anon 😩 second one too and i feel like i will absolutely end up caving and writing it later but for now, have this!

Angst dukedom post

Non-angst dukedome post(no konig in this one)

No but seriously, there is only so much you can take. Between everyone’s dismissal of you, the lack of any meaningful company, the loneliness- it was only a matter of time before you just… can’t do it anymore.

The change, though it starts slow, is impossible to hide. You stop having dinner with John, finding no solace in the taste of lukewarm, half-heartedly prepared food. You tell yourself it’s not worth it- the stilted conversations, the empty looks, the way his eyes always drift to anything but you. He’s too busy sharing hidden glances with Kyle, exchanging quiet touches with Johnny when he hand delivers the food, speaking to Simon with an intensity that has never been for you.

You stop attending the endless galas and balls you are meant expected to attend as the Duchess. You withdraw from the tea parties, from every suffocating event where you were paraded as nothing more than an ornament on Duke Price’s arm. You withdraw from the public eye itself.

Instead, you drift through the duchy, through the rooms that are suddenly empty when you arrive. You drift to and fro, in a haze of lonelinthat and slow-setting exhaustion.

The maids whispered of you before, but it used to be out of your earshot; now, you can hear them clearly, none of them afraid of being punished when not even your own husband can stand your sight. They mutter about how sickly you look, how your eyes are dull and lifeless.

She’s wasting away.

Maybe it’s for the best.

No one can love someone who fades into the walls.

But of course, the whispers aren’t just within the duchy. Rumors ripple out beyond the duchy’s walls-

The Duchess has gone mad, they say. Locked away by her husband, for her own good.

She ran away in the dead of night, they say. Couldn’t bear her husband’s coldness. Maybe he drove her to it.

He’s always with Duke Riley, isn’t he? Or the butler. Or the chef.

Poor thing. No wonder she vanished.

All of it gnaws and bites at John’s reputation, at yours, but he never comes to you and it doesn’t surprise you at all. He would rather find a way to bury it all then simply check on you. The facade has always been more important, and he keeps it with half-hearted excuses half-believed by some and dismissed by others.

But they are relentless, and soon they taint every interaction he has. No one meets him without a hint of suspicion in their eyes. How much of it is true, they seem to ask. What did you do to her? Is she really gone? She was a good woman, how could you do that to her? There is more scrutiny now on the time he spends with Simon, with Kyle, with Johnny. He starts to avoid public events himself, unwilling to face the relentless gossip that hangs over him now like a dark cloud.

Eventually, you stop dressing for the day, leaving your hair unkempt, your gowns crumpled and out of style. No one comes to check on you, the maids happy at having less work, and you tell yourself that you prefer it that way. No eyes to judge. No lips to lie. The solitude is nothing new, even if it’s never been this severe before.

Time blurs, too. You stop looking at the newspapers when they stop being delivered. The days mean nothing when every morning brings only a new kind of numbness, and some days you spend entirely in bed, too tired to even think about taking a step outside.

Yet, even with your noticeable absence, nothing changes. No one knocks on your door, not even once. No one checks to see if you’re eating, breathing, surviving. You feel so achingly lonely.

John doesn’t approach you once. You have become a specter, more distant than ever. And though he and the others feel a creeping sense of guilt- Kyle finds himself lingering outside your door, only to turn away with clenched fists; Johnny’s jokes die in his throat when he hears your name; Simon stares at the spot you used to take during the dinners and lunches he’d join; John stares at the very few portraits of you that line the walls and wonders how he’d even go about approaching you- none of them move to truly mend the gaping distance between you. They regret their neglect, but they do not know how to fix it. Or maybe they are simply too late.

dukedom au masterlist Part Two: Fix-it

[intoanotherworld23]

Bathroom Break Blowout

Summary: Joel Miller can’t keep his hands off you for another minute, even at his own sons birthday party

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, dominant Joel, married Joel, cheating, submissive reader, minor choking, smidge of spanking, dirty talk, praise kink

A/N: comments and reblogs are totally appreciated to show support for your fellow writers! If you wish to be added to my Pedro pascal tag list it’s always open so don’t hesitate to ask so just let me know so I can be sure to add you! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan @lover-of-books-and-tea @bbyanarchist

Tired hands gripping the porcelain sink you were currently bent over with every ounce of strength you had. Feeling a drop of sweat roll down your cheek as you took a relentless beating from the back. Joel’s usually gentle hands now gripping roughly onto your hips. Soft whimpers escaping past your lips.

"You've got to be quieter for me sweetheart." His deep voice whispering in your ear with a soft pat to your thigh.

Right now there was a birthday party going on for his son, and his wife was also downstairs. As soon as Joel and his wife hired you as a babysitter he couldn't get you out of his mind. Always waiting for the right opportunity, but never seeming to find it. It was wrong you both knew that, but right now neither one of you cared.

"Oh my god." A hand covering your moans as he slowed his thrusts down slightly. Closing your eyes as you tried your best to control your noises. It was so much harder than you expected, and Joel was thicker than you expected.

"Such a good girl taking my cock so well in that tight little cunt." Praising you as he looked from your disheveled face in the mirror, and to where your bodies were connected licking his lips at how soaked you were.

"You're so big Mr. Miller." Mumbling loud enough just for him to hear.

"Call me Joel baby, and as much as I want to hear you scream my name you gotta be quiet." His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your upper back and shoulder blade.

“Joel.” Cooing with such innocence he had to restrain himself from smacking the shit out of your ass. He knew you were just playing with fire, and it was a matter of time before you got burnt.

His hands kept a firm grip on your ass to help him leverage his thrusts. Growling into your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine. Joel was usually gentle and kind, and right before your eyes he was turning into a wild man.

"Let me see those pretty eyes." His deep voice persuading you as you finally opened your eyes to see his dark and mischievous ones looking at you.

Joel shamelessly bucking his hips into your backside as you watched each other in the mirror. Forcing you to watch his and your facial expressions like watching a movie. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Joel was biting his lips together when he could feel himself getting closer.

"Wanna have this cunt achin from me for days." It sounded like a promise more than a threat. Both hands spreading your cheeks apart as he angled himself deeper inside of you.

"Oh shit right there." Feeling him hit your sweet spot over and over again, your toes curling against the bathroom tile. Knowing your orgasm was swiftly approaching biting down on your arm wanting it so bad you could taste it.

"Maybe should have ya scream so my wife can hear." He taunted you with empty threats, but still the thought of his wife walking in here and catching you two would be too much. "Don't worry I won't this time."

Reaching a hand to grip your neck and pull it up to look into his eyes directly. Grinding deep as he rotated his hips in a rhythmic motion. Parting your lips open as you cried out only to be stopped by his lips covering yours swallowing every whimper and moan.

"I'm so close Joel." Hearing you call his name out in pleasure was like music to his ears. Your body started to become stiff, as a fire ignited in your lower stomach. Both of you chasing that sweet release.

Joel could sense that you were struggling to release almost like you were fighting it. Reaching his other hand around to your front finding your sensitive clit rubbing fast circles coaxing the orgasm from you. Keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground as he rocked his hot body into yours. Your neck was starting to really ache, but you were so close you were powering through.

"Let go baby I'm right here." Cooing into your ear like he was telling you a secret. His deep and seductive tone sent you over the edge.

Body falling completely limp against the sink hand falling from your neck as your body fell completely numb to your euphoric state. Cunt clenching his cock like a vine as you trembled and shook around him. Both hands held onto your hips as he continued to pump himself slowly and deep.

"Fucked that pretty cunt so well didn't I?" Joel already knew the answer to that question, but he had a look of undeniable pride written across his face.

Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

"Too bad my wife didn't walk in and catch us." He joked and you couldn't help but slap his thigh at the comment, even though the thought kind of turned you on. His lips finding yours in a tender and intimate moment, only to be interrupted by soft knocks coming from the door.

"Dad it's time for dessert."

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part three.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, edging, pet names, sex toys, multiple orgasms, mentions of body image Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part two. / part four. | masterlist

“Hel-lo, is the idiot in the room still with us?”

A slender hand waves back and forth, back and forth, until you awake from your everlasting daydream.

Annie Leonhart sits across from you at your favorite coffee shop looking like the cat that caught the canary.

That knowing smirk hasn’t left her face since she sat down.

Curling her fingers, she pulls her arm and returns her hand to join the other under her chin once she’s finally caught your attention.

The small blonde squints her icy blue eyes, observing, deciding on what you’ll say before you launch your defense.

“That good, huh?”

Embarrassment is your first folly.

"I— What?!”

“I know a blissful climax cloud when I see one.”

“Annie.”

Sometimes Annie could be an ass, too smug for her own good, but she was a fiercely loyal friend and colleague.

Everything is meant in jest — at least, to you. Not many others got to avoid her wrath.

You lean over the table, reaching your hand out to cover her mouth.

She manages to duck your advances, expertly so, and rears her head with a small chuckle.

“Relax, no one’s listening,” she chides.

“That’s not true,” you argue under your breath. “It's a small shop. You know the vultures circle this place.”

“Not since the old thirsties got busted for their smutty book club — which, quite frankly, I resent losing.”

"You resent?" you repeat, mirroring her squint. “But you never ended up joining the old lady book club.”

“Mm, I didn’t,” Annie agrees, picking up her coffee cup to sip leisurely. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t listen. I looked up a couple of those titles for myself. In retrospect, they had good taste.”

“Seriously?”

“Dead.”

She pauses, setting the cup back on the table.

“So… are you going to make me work for the details, or what?” she finally leads, getting to the point while you skate around it with imaginary triple axels. “Did you call again after Friday?”

You did.

In fact, you've called several times — almost every night since last Friday with the exception of Tuesday, since you’d fallen asleep as soon as you hit the couch after working overtime.

It’s now another Friday afternoon, one week from the first time you’d called the hotline, and you’re wondering what constitutes bordering on addiction.

“I have,” you confirm. 

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she chastises with a grimace. “Boo — tomato, tomato.”

“What?! What did you want me to say?”

“For starters, who the guy is.”

“Not happening.”

“Loser.” A beat passes. “But it’s not Bert?”

You shake your head vehemently.

“Definitely not Bert.”

“Thank god,” she exhales. “I like you, but I don’t know if I like you enough to be calling up the same dude to get our rocks off.”

“Jesus, Annie.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a prude.”

You pick up your own tea, sliding it across the table before taking a tentative sip.

“I don’t know how you freely talk about this like we’re trying out restaurants.”

“Because it’s not real?” she suggests, and your stomach flip-flops. 

You know it isn’t. 

It’s a job.

It’s his job.

“I don’t know,” Annie continues, sitting back against her chair with her arm draped across the curve. “It’s no strings attached and hot. I’ll never meet Bert, and he’ll never meet me, and it isn’t like he’s going to ask to hold my hand and beg me to meet his mom.”

“You’re such a commitment-phobe,” you comment with the roll of your eyes. “You won’t ever meet anyone’s mom.”

“Yeah, because I’m not a psycho,” she replies with a snort. “I take it you went premium?”

You nod once. “Levi suggested it.”

Her eyes widen, delighted, and you scowl at your own stupidity.

“Levi?”

Ah.

Fuck.

"Wait." You sit up taller. “Don’t—”

“Oh, that’s a hot name.”

“Annie, I swear to—”

She sours to herself. “Damn, that’s so much hotter than moaning Bert.”

The tea in your cup bubbles from your chortled breath. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah, not my favorite name ever, but that’s fine — because it’s more like he’s moaning Annie.”

Paired with a wicked grin, your friend winks at you.

“We have two very different wants.”

You squint, and her grin widens. “Wait, do you—”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh my god, Annie.”

“What?!” she chirps with a chuckle. “You like the bossy ones, I like being the boss. You’re not allowed to kink shame me. We’re in this shit together.”

“Who said I like being bossed around?!”

She points her finger at your facedown phone.

“Porco Galliard bosses people around. I’m not stupid. And you scream ‘I don’t like being assertive’.”

Great.

The same observation Levi made over the phone without ever meeting you in person.

“Whatever, that isn’t the point,” you wave off, deciding to try and swerve the subject. “I wanted to ask: how many times do you call a week?”

Annie presses the tip of her tongue against her cheek as she considers.

“A week? Maybe two, three at most. It used to be a hell of a lot more, but I’m working a lot of late nights.”

“When you say ‘a hell of a lot more’, do you mean—?”

“Daily?” she finishes for you then tries to recall. “Why? Are you daily right now?” 

You hate yourself for a second. 

“Sort of? It’s only been a few days, but—”

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She reassures in that randomly serious way Annie can pull on a rare occasion.

Making fun of people might be her favorite pastime, but if she can sense true withdrawal from her friends, then she’s quick to stop. 

The blonde reaches over the table to pat your hand, but it’s hardly a comfort.

Annie is about as comforting as raw-dog wearing a hand-knitted sweater by an amateur: it's itchy, too tight, and you want it to stop immediately. 

“You’re a grown woman with grown woman money. If guys can go get blue balled at the strip club, then why can’t we call a hot guy over the phone?”

Again: not comforting at all.

With reluctance, you nod.

“You have a point.”

“I know I have a point.”

“Then again, I don’t know how long term this fix can be,” you reason. “It’s very expensive.”

“Yeah, but you know what’s more expensive?” Annie retorts. “Hooking up with a stranger at a bar who’s abysmal in bed. Maybe not so much for your wallet, but definitely for your ego.”

“And your sanity,” you agree, “if they’re weird.”

“Or a creep.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“A weird creep that happens to be a serial killer.”

You both give each other a look, an unspoken conversation of two delusional women saying ‘exactly’ in a singular gesture, as you sync the sips of your drinks.

.

.

— —

.

.

  “Do you ever — ha — use to — oh — ys?”

You’re not sure why you’re so chatty with your rabbit vibrator barely hovering over the hood of your clit.

A week ago, you would've been trying to smother yourself with a pillow for talking.

However, with each night you’ve called Levi, the more comfortable you’ve become.

More bold, if openly using toys tells him anything.

The avalanche that brought you here was quite swift.

Traffic lights no longer remind you of the cars on the road but the man waiting for you on this hotline.

A willing striptease; a compliance to do what you wish but let him take the lead.

All you had to say was ‘my hand’s getting tired’ during an edging session.

All Levi had to reply with was ‘if you had a toy, I’d allow you to tag it in’.

Allow.

Like you’re completely under his spell.

Like you couldn’t have been using one from the get-go, but you listened.

You said you did.

He said grab it.

(God, you always listen.)

Now you’re here, legs spread in the center of your bed with your phone sitting between the valley of your breasts as you talk to him through the speaker.

“I am right now,” Levi replies in that diplomatic way of his, the lift of his voice telling: he’s amused by the way you try to speak to him, even when you’re ready to scream with impatience.

“I meant on yourself,” you exhale shakily.

“On myself?”

“Like on c-calls,” you stammer, forcing yourself to focus.

He loves when you lose your mind.

You refuse to cave so fast tonight.

“A mystery for another day,” he teases, before adding in a firmer tone: “You earned it. Touch it to your clit, but don’t go inside yet. I want you wet and ready for me, understand?”

“You’re so mean.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he softens for just a moment. “And don’t talk back.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” you joke, before pressing the device against your clit.

The vibrations surge pleasure down your legs, causing your toes to curl.

You’re not sure if it’s the ‘sir’ or the moan you emit that makes him groan in return.

“The answer is no,” he finally states.

For a second, you think you did something wrong.

Then you circle back, remembering what you asked in the first place.

Right.

The toys question.

“You don’t?”

“Not on me, no.” He exhales, slow and steady. “Too busy making sure I’m hitting the script.”

That’s the funny thing about these calls:

The fourth wall? 

Broken.

He doesn’t pretend to be your boyfriend for the night, just as you don’t pretend he’s only yours.

You’re aware he’s a sex worker, just as he seems to open up about his profession when speaking to you.

At first Levi wouldn’t — it was meant to be a fantasy — but each night he’s divulged more.

Like how he used to be in the military. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he has an affinity for tea, going so far as to have a mild cup with you after a session in lieu of a cigarette. (Unrelated to sex.)

Like how he’s a Capricorn. (Unrelated to sex — kind of.)

In the midst of learning about him, you’ve learned about yourself.

You’re less vanilla than you originally thought.

With Porco, things felt regimented.

Scheduled.

You weren’t willing to open up your heart, much less your legs, because he was too cold behind closed doors.

Focused.

Driven to his work and passions.

Levi, on the other hand, will suggest leaning against the wall with your hand in your underwear, eyes forced to watch yourself in your full-length mirror.

To worship yourself, when he can’t.

To pump your fingers into your weeping core, when he can’t.

To give over complete and utter control with the promise that you’ll come as many times as he asks you to, because if he could be in this very room — this very apartment — he’d easily do it himself.

With Levi, you’re bold.

With Levi, you’re in.

So you’re not shy to arch your back, moaning into the receiver when you feel your first orgasm approaching you like the incoming tide.

“Levi,” you whimper his name, “can I—”

“Shit, baby, you know you can,” he practically purrs, already knowing what you’re going to ask. “C’mon. Let me hear that pretty little voice of yours, huh? Just for me?”

“Just for—”

The last word is garbled by the way your teeth clench, legs snapping together as the first climax hits after a relentless twenty-minute edging session.

It’s unreal.

It’s pain.

It’s bliss.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

(Freedom.)

You pant, pulling the vibrator away from your body for a moment to catch your breath.

You hear him hum with approval on the other end, a low rumble against your chest.

“That’s a good girl,” he says after a beat. “Feeling better?”

“So much,” you confess breathlessly.

“You sound better.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Didn’t do much.”

“Oh shut up,” you scowl before laughing.

Turning off the toy for a momentary reprieve, you allow yourself to catch your breath as you grin up at the ceiling.

“Always so goddamn modest.”

“You’re one to talk,” he scoffs, shifting on the other end of the line. “Can’t take a damn compliment to save your life.”

You make a face like he can see you in the dark, but you decide to continue the conversation.

That’s a new thing the two of you have picked up — talking.

Lots of talking.

You get off, sure, but he knows your work drama, your chore schedule — your mailmen even have the same first name, funnily enough.

“I’m serious, though,” you exhale. “Do you ever like… get off? Without toys, obviously.”

“During a call?” he clarifies, and you nod. He answers like he can see it. “No, not — not typically.”

“Wow, so you’ve faked an orgasm with me,” you tease with a blissed out snort. “Shame, shame, I know your name.”

“I what?”

“Faked it,” you clarify, fluffing your pillows behind your head as you situate yourself on your bed. “As if I don’t hear you breathing all heavy and shit over there.”

Then something unusual happens.

The man grows quiet on the other side. 

Nothing shuffles.

No huffs or ‘tchs’.

Just… silence.

“Levi?” you ask, brows knit.

A beat passes, but he answers.

“Yeah?”

“Are you good over there?”

“I— yeah, fine,” he clears his throat.

Uh-oh.

You frown immediately, blinking twice. “Sorry, was that a weird question?”

“Not at all,” he clarifies, gruff this time, “just… I said not typically, not never.”

…oh.

Oh.

Suddenly you abandon the rabbit and sit up in bed, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wait.”

“Scarlet.”

“No, did you actually—”

“I already said too much.”

“No, wait, you can’t just imply that you’ve gotten off with me then abandon ship here, Levi!”

“I’m not abandoning ship — why do you say such weird shit sometimes?”

“How many times?!” you yelp.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Holy shit,” you exhale, “I’m so mad I didn’t pay attention.”

It’s like you can hear Levi squinting, narrowing his eyes with uncertainty on the other end of the phone. “...why would you be mad?”

“Because maybe I want to hear you get off, too?” you suggest simply.

Another agonizing breath of silence.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you place your phone on your sheets and pick up the vibrator, contemplating your next move.

“Because I would totally love to just… I don’t know, make you moan, too? See what you taste like? Feel you lose control, pull my hair, hold my head down while I wrap my lips around—”

“Baby.”

Two syllables shoot out of his mouth, as if overwhelmed with shock.

Huh.

An Uno reverse in your favor.

You’re no Shakespeare, but what you say is as honest as words can possibly be.

“I picture you all the time,” you confess softly, pressing the rabbit vibrator’s first function.

A low rumble begins, and you guide it between your legs.

You’re already soaked from your session.

There will be little give to the toy.

“When we’re not on the phone together, I wonder what it would be like. I could be at work. I could be at a coffee shop. Like, holy shit, I was meeting with a friend today and all I could think of is how badly I’d love to just take you to it — maybe disappear in the back hall, find a bathroom? I’d bend over a sink. I don’t wear skirts all the time, but I’d wear one for you.”

You hear shifting on the other end of the line, but Levi is deathly silent.

Mindlessly, your hand takes hold of the vibrator and you press against your entrance.

With a tiny whimper, you push in, deliciously enveloped in a sea of vibrations.

“You wouldn’t need to wear a skirt.”

Suddenly his voice appears, and you accidentally push the vibrator further in, causing a strangled moan to exit your mouth. 

“Le—”

“Pants are just as easy,” Levi cuts you off, a thread of a whisper. “Couldn’t take that much effort. Wouldn’t give a shit if anyone saw your damn clothes at your ankles.”

Suddenly the room burns.

“I just know you’d fill me up so good,” you whine, and there’s a sharp hiss on the other end.

“Jesus Christ.”

There.

You hear it: the waver in his voice.

“Yeah, baby,” he concedes. “I’d fill you so fucking good.”

You whimper, a pathetic little noise at the base of your throat, and he exhales a large breath — as if he’s been holding back this entire time.

“Promise?”

“When have I ever led you astray?” he challenges, a bit more strained now.

It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” you breathe, ragged and wrecked, and there’s a small groan on the other end of the line.

“You already do, baby.”

“Not how I want to,” you argue in return, body pulsating with the growing need to release a second. “You’re so good at making me cum, but all I want is to take it how you want me — bend me over and fill me up, push me to my knees and stick my tongue out—”

“Fuck,” he curses sharply. “You’re so good for me. So, so fucking good, not fuckin’ fair.”

“Wanna cum with you.”

He groans, louder this time, and inhales the most deliciously jagged breath you’ve ever heard.

“Right there, baby,” he forces out. “C’mon. Give me one more. Just one more.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

You purposefully bite your tongue when you come a second time, squeezing your eyes shut with all of your senses focused solely on your ears.

A grunt, as if he’s holding back just the same before exhaling, slow and languid.

In your mind’s eye, you see it: how he uses his teeth to hold up his t-shirt, painting his abdomen with streaks of white as he holds himself back from climaxing too loud. His whole body trembles. He squeezes the tip, milking himself for all he’s worth.

Pulling the vibrator from your body, you turn it off and toss it elsewhere on your bed. Your body curls around your phone, trying to stay quiet so you can listen.

Shaky.

Exhausted.

Not typically, not never.

You say nothing, can’t, but a small giggle of euphoria emits from your throat.

Surprisingly, Levi chuckles back with that drugged slowness that comes with exhaustion.

“You’re too damn giddy after two orgasms,” he chastises, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Uh-huh, Huff ‘n Puff,” you tease right back, and he tsk’s right against the phone.

And in your heart, you know—

Know you’re in deep shit.

Know that you like Levi, even if it’s impossible to like a stranger.

Maybe when you get this month’s credit card bill, you’ll sober up from your crush.

But not right now.

Just not right now.

.

.

— —

.

.

  The next morning, you’re up bright and early.

Skip the elevator to the apartment lobby.

Walk down the stairs to kickstart your adrenaline.

Skip the coffee at the local shop.

Choose a small cup of chai instead.

By the time you make it to the gym, you’re more ready than you ever have been in your life to take on the day.

.

.

— —

.

.

  Forty-five minutes later, your sweat even has sweat.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, the endorphins from a tough workout only make you feel that more excited to get your shit together. To be more mindful of your time.

(Totally not because your last call with Levi was unreal. Nope.)

Overall, you went from hating your life to — well, this.

Whatever this is.

Owning your self agency and worth after a pitiful breakup?

Unfortunately joining this gym had been Porco’s idea — he’s a treadmill hamster, and you got swindled by the sea of abs under his tank tops.

A ‘couples activity’, whatever that meant.

(Being sweaty and tired without an orgasm to finish it off never did feel rewarding.)

After the breakup you considered trying to get out of your 6-month contract, but Porco dipped first.

He joined Pieck’s crossfit endeavor somewhere else in the city, leaving you and this dingy little gym to commiserate together.

Now?

Now, you excitedly get ready in the morning to the gym — not to get thin or look a certain way to appease anyone else. A revenge body is bonafide stupid.

No — you don’t want to be anything but stronger.

Because Levi would probably think it was hot if you were stronger.

Maybe the next time you call, he’ll be impressed that you’ve taken to strength training. 

Maybe he’ll give you some pointers — one more topic of conversation to be had.

Setting down the free weights back on the rack after a thorough cleaning of the equipment, you step out of the way of the other regulars gearing up for their workout and head towards the locker rooms to shower.

In the small pocket of your leggings, you hear your phone vibrate. 

Digging your hand in to fish it out, you see a familiar name on your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Yo [A. LEONHART]: We’re all going out Tuesday for drinks – u in?

All.

All means the department.

All might mean Porco and Pieck.

Annie must sense your apprehension, before adding:

[A. LEONHART]: Porky probs not going, Pieck’s got a family thing

 

Well, that’s two positives.

[ME]: I’ll think about it. [A. LEONHART]: Think about it????

[A. LEONHART]: 🍅🍅🍅

Her and her fucking tomatoes.

You snort and begin to write back—

But not before accidentally slamming chest to chest into a stranger.

The phone flies out of your hand like a bar of wet soap.

Like a Scooby Doo short, it alley-oops to the sky then smashes down against the black-speckled rubber gym floor.

Before you can even react, the person you’d bumped into is bending to crouch on the floor.

“Shit. My fault.”

Every cell in your body freezes.

Time ceases to exist.

They scoop your phone into their hand, flipping it over checking for damage. 

Luckily, the screen is intact. 

No fall damage.

But that isn’t why you’re frozen.

As they rise to full stance, your eyes are still downcast. 

From their sneakers your eyes crawl up, up, up — noticing the basketball shorts that cut just above the knee with compression under armor peeking beneath.

On his torso is an emerald green tank top, clinging to his flexing abs, the fabric speckled with sweat. 

His collarbones are defined; chin just as sharp as his cheekbones.

Then you meet his eyes.

A blue-ish gray.

The man standing before you runs on the shorter side — under average height for a man.

His ebony hair dangles and sticks to his sweat-slicked forehead, the ends pointed and shaggy.

It takes a moment until you realize you’ve seen that hair before.

While you’ve taken to walking on the treadmill for your warm-up these last several weeks, he’s typically nestled in the strength training corner of the gym alone. 

Every morning that you’re here, he is also here diligently working on his physique.

He’s always in some squat position or lying on a bench, so you never paid attention to his face—

He’s fucking gorgeous.

“Looks like it’s fine,” he says casually, and your stomach falls out of your ass.

Baritone.

Smooth like honey, low like a rumble.

There’s no way.

There is absolutely no way it’s—

“Here.”

The man holds your phone out for you, brows knitting curiously. 

You can’t speak. 

Hell, you can barely breathe.

He shakes his hand to wake you from your shock.

“Take it.”

You know that voice like the back of your hand.

Wordlessly, you reach a shaky hand towards the phone to take it back.

You part your lips to speak, but no words exit.

All you can do is grasp your phone and pull it to your chest as you catch the scent of his deodorant with a mixture of musk when he passes by, none the wiser.

By the time you turn to say something, anything—

Levi from Scout Services Hotline dips into the men’s locker room.

.

Author's Note:

...oops.

Thank you for reading part three of P4! I continue to be blown away by the response. Because of your encouragement, I wrote one of the fastest updates I've made in ages. How are we feeling now? Let me know in the comments!

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[opiopal]

random headcanons before I go to sleep

barbatos is probably the type of person to get offended when you mention using the dishwasher.

lucifer has compression socks for ankle pain and swelling. also probably takes migraine meds because I just know his head hurts from all the stress he's under.

when startled mammons shoulders tense up and raise to make himself look bigger like how a bird lifts its wings. since I hc he has some feathers on his bod in demon form his neck feathers puff up.

levi cries in joy whenever one of his favorite streamers reads his name outloud.

every time Mc cracks their knuckles or any joint for that matter, every demon within 5ft gasps as if they just broke something.

when first fallen, satan went on a very short ramage, that only ended when he accidentally stepped on a book and heard the spine tear.

asmo is actually allergic to pollen, so he takes allergy pills every morning and night to not suffer in his own room. its always aesthetic over convenience with this man.(and he's so real for that)

because I loved how close they were in the beginning of the first OM, satan and asmo are close and gossip together.

solomon famously cannot cook for shit, but he used to be good at it and was a way he showed love, but over time he lost his sense of taste so he doesn't realize his cooking is bad because he himself cant taste it.

barbatos has caught a vase mid air once, which wouldn't be as impressive if he wasn't on the other side of the room when it got knocked over.

one time in a panic mammon bit lucifers hand, you can only imagine how that went

asmo is the type to help a demon wipe their crying face clean and redo their makeup for them.

one time luke actually started to cry from being insulted, which caused the brothers to panic and start to comfort him immediately. they were just teasing and didn't mean it! really!

simeon jokingly told levi that one of the fan theories about TSL was true, which sent levi into a week long spiral of trying to connect the dots

Dia has weekly tea parties with just him and Mc to talk and catch up,

[allywthsr]

GENDER REVEAL | (l.norris)

summary: the day has finally come, you get to know the gender of your baby

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

notes: series part two has finally arrived

warnings: none! (I think)

Baby Series masterlist

You were twenty two weeks pregnant when the gynecologist told you, she could tell you the gender, she put a letter with the gender in an envelope and gave it to you. You wanted nothing more than to open the letter and read the gender, but you wanted it to be more exciting. So you gave the envelope to your best friend, she wanted to plan a big gender reveal / babyshower for you. Lando and you wanted the babyshower and gender reveal in one celebration, the schedule was tight and Lando couldn’t just take a week off from work.

Lando’s parents said the whole party could happen on their property, and you were thankful for that, your apartment never would’ve fit every single one coming, and renting something in Monaco was almost impossible. The England weather was often rubbish, but you prayed for sunshine and warm temperatures for the beginning of August, when the party was happening, if it was raining, the celebration could easily be moved inside.

The days leading up to the big day were nerve wrecking, Lando talked to his child every day, giving your belly kisses and you couldn’t wait to get to know the gender, and finalize everything.

The days leading up to the big day were nerve wrecking, Lando talked to his child every day, giving your belly kisses and you couldn’t wait to get to know the gender, and finalize everything. Two days before the big day, you received last minutes information from your best friend, what she had planned and what you should wear. Lando was bouncing around, he couldn’t wait for the reveal, just like the rest of the family and friends, every weekend the mechanics would ask him, if he knew more than the last time, they saw him, them being disappointed when he didn’t, so they were even more excited when the invite for the gender reveal came. Will and José bought pink and blue shirts, specifically for this day, just so they could follow the invite and wear something in the color they think the gender of the baby would be, like little kids they sent Lando a picture of them going shopping for the shirts.

And today it was finally happening, today you would know the gender of your baby, with butterflies you woke up and Lando brought you a toast with your favorite topping, you needed to eat something immediately after waking up, or you would hang with your head over the toilet. Lando went for a run in the forrest that stood around his family’s property, and you got up and did your morning routine in the bathroom, since being pregnant, your skin was almost perfect, you barely had to anything for it. You read on some dodgy website, that good skin means you’re pregnant with a baby boy, you couldn’t wait for later and finally know the gender. Of course the gender wouldn’t change anything, you would love the baby either way, if boy or girl, but you could finally think about names and stop calling the baby ‘the baby’, Lando was certain it was a boy, and always said he or him, while you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were also hoping for a boy. Just the thought of having a mini Lando running around, made your heart melt, sure, Lando with Mila made you cry and a baby girl would be perfect for him to care and love, but you wanted a boy first, he could take care of his baby sister later.

You went downstairs to the kitchen where Cisca was sitting and drinking a tea, you greeted her with a smile and asked her how she was feeling. She stood up and ushered you to sit on her chair, with a small caress over your round belly, she made you a quick breakfast, not listening to your complaints about how you can make your own breakfast, and she should enjoy her tea. She was a full on mother, no matter to whom, she made you a small breakfast, and it automatically tasted better because she did it. When Lando came in, he kissed his mother’s cheek and you on your mouth, kissing your belly while you put your hand on his cheek. He smiled at you and kissed you on the head, „“I’m going to shower and then I’ll come back, yeah?“, you nodded and smiled back. He ran up the stairs, and you could hear the door slam, with a chuckle, Cisca sat next to you again, “I’m so excited for later, can’t wait to see what gender my grandbaby has.“

“Me too! In the end its important that he or she is healthy, but I hope for a boy.“

“We do too! Adam wants a little prince to spoil, do the racing with him, having him on his lap while mowing the grass.“

“Don’t get me too excited for a boy, Cisca“, you chuckled, but you knew you would be just as happy if a little girl was growing in you.

After breakfast, Lando came downstairs again and shortly after, the decorators came, they prepared everything your best friends ordered. It was supposed a rather small and intimate party, but by the time you and Lando made a list for who would need to be invited, you were already at fifty people. Almost the whole grid and their girlfriends were invited, plus Carlos’s parents and siblings, people like Zak, Andrea and Andreas couldn’t be missed. Obviously Lando’s family, your family, friends, and important people in your life got an invitation.

After a small nap on the couch with Lando, you went outside to check out the decorations, thankfully the weather was supposed to be wonderful, sunshine over sunshine. There was a huge balloon wall to take pictures in front of, a big seating area with tables, to eat, drink and fill out the forms your best friend organized, the buffet would be in the kitchen, to not have everything melt in the sun and the actual revealing part would be done in the back of the backyard, where no neighbor could see what was happening. You weren’t a rockstar, nobody filmed yours and Lando’s every step of the way, and you didn’t think the neighbors would share anything to the public before you did, but you could never be too careful. Your best friend let you decide on how to reveal the gender, and you settled on the basic smoke and confetti method, it was easy, but it looked amazing.

After the caters arrived and set up the buffet, you and Lando checked on it, trying little cookies and snacks. Cisca came in shortly after Lando filled his mouth with a blue icing covered sugar cookie, and scolded him for it, gently slapping the back of his head.

The first guests arrived a bit early, your family rung the doorbell and you jumped from your chair, walking quickly to the door, you haven’t seen your family for what felt like ages, with you living in Monaco and traveling constantly, you couldn’t visit your home as much as you‘d like, even Lando rarely got to see his mother and siblings, with his father being at every race, you saw him at the race weekends.

You tightly squeezed your mother and father, Lando followed you suit, embracing them in a tight hug, your siblings also didn’t get left out.

Your mother gave you a bouquet after she caressed your swollen tummy, clearly amazed at how big you‘ve gotten. The flowers were placed in a vase and Lando’s parents welcomed yours, they haven’t seen each other since the last Christmas, and the mothers immediately settled in the kitchen to talk, while the dads went out in to the garden to eye the decorations and talk about football and f1.

You and Lando went upstairs together, changing into a more party outfit. You put on a baby blue flowy dress, that settled nicely on your stomach, not making you look like a whale, but like a healthy pregnant woman. Lando also changed into a baby blue top and some beige pants, you both looked stunning, Lando couldn’t resist but to take what felt like a thousand pictures of you on your own or together in the mirror.

You settled on the couch, to wait for the first guests to arrive, and shortly after, the doorbell rung. You greeted Carlos and Rebecca and took their gift bag to the little table that was placed in the living room.

The more time passed, the more people arrived, you tried to keep it small, but with people knowing that many people, it was hard to decide what people should be left out, you simply couldn’t. Family, friends, and colleagues were standing around the garden, chatting, drinking, and eating to pass the time until the big reveal.

When everyone was there, you greeted them all again and held a little speech, thanking everyone for coming and for the gifts, explaining what was planned for the afternoon and where to find the food.

Your best friend organized a few little extras before it, every guest could write a small letter to the baby, that it could read once he or she was old enough, fill out a form and guess what gender, date and time it would be born, weight, height and many more things. The person that is most accurate, is going to win a small prize, you didn’t know what yet, but a trip to Monaco was a good idea.

On a small table there were some babygrows, and some clothing paint. If guests wanted to, they could paint on the babygrow and later on your child could wear it, it’s also just to have a sweet memory and keep the guests entertained.

You were chatting with your best friend in the kitchen, snacking on some pink colored cookies, from where you were standing you saw people fill out the forms, drawing on the babygrow or taking pictures in front of the picture wall. The professional photographer you hired for this day, was patient and took her time for everyone, who wanted pictures. You already had your little photoshoot, where every guest took a picture with you and Lando, the parents to be.

After almost two hours of people arriving and people filling out forms, or designing babygrows, it was time for the big reveal. Your best friend announced that it was time for everyone to walk to the back of the backyard and half-circle around you and Lando.

Lando stood next to you, holding you in his arms, and stroking your side, you both were shaking with nerves, good nerves, it was exciting to finally be sure what gender your baby has.

Your best friend gave you a smoke cannon, and Lando a confetti cannon, you both looked at each other, you could see how nervous he was, Lando gave you one last kiss and a stroke over your belly, when the crowd started counting down from ten, with every number passing, you felt the sparks in your belly explode, why were they counting that slowly?

When the one was called, Lando and you clasped the triggers of the cannons tighter and twisted the bottom, you squeezed your eyes shut, and only opened them when everybody was erupting with screams.

You opened your eyes and blue smoke surrounded you, with a gasp and tears threatening to spill, you turned to Lando and opened your arms, squeezing him tight, before he pressed his lips to yours and enjoyed the moment, caressing your belly.

“A boy! Y/N, a boy. We have a mini Lando.“

He kissed your cheek, before Max Fewtrell came over and hugged the two of you, more guests came over and congratulated you, you enjoyed each and every hug you received, thanking the person for being there.

Lando and you took a quiet minute inside the house, just hugging and talking about your baby, Lando got his boy, the one he wanted so badly. Now he could show him the world of karting, when he was old enough to get inside one. The room could be finalized, you could buy the first babygrow he would wear when he was born, a name could be chosen, and so much more.

The rest of the evening was spent talking, laughing and enjoying the time with your friends and families, you held your tummy, knowing a little boy would keep you up your toes in a few months, but you weren’t alone, you had Lando by your side, helping you with whatever it is you would need.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi I’m sorry if your not doing the bakery anymore! But if you are can I please have a nanaimo bar and a tiramisu with a side of bubble tea served by Max Verstappen?

I love your writing so much!

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? send it now! i am adding more prompts to the list!! i'd love to hear from you! i do really like this, i feel like daddy kink hasn't be suggested enough! also, i think ya'll really like when i write max! which thank you so muuuuuch! i love writing him. i have made him a bit more of a dom than i usually do, i am a sub!max truther lol.

nanaimo bar ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + bubble tea (daddy kink)

cw: smut/pwp, daddy kink, collars, oral sex (m receiving), dom!max, mean!max, "kitty"!reader, dirty talk

max never really liked to watch highlights or old races. the race itself felt like it was imprinted on his bones, memorized in his muscles. but for a boring sunday night during the off season, he didn't mind a gin & tonic and sitting in front of the couch watching them back to back online.

he wasn't alone. over the last six months he has had such a cute little companion. a little girlfriend. you were stunning, funny and over all sweet. you were perfect and most of the grid adored you. but max felt that if they knew what you two got up to in the off-season, they'd be even more endeared to max's little kitty.

you were a good girl for daddy today, so you got to snuggle with him on the couch. he laid out with you on top of him, your head on his chest as you linked your fingers with him.

"you had such a good day today, kitten." he said quietly as he rubbed your head with his other hand. earlier you had your head in his lap as he drank through two g&ts. but now you two were just cuddled up.

you looked at him and replied with a slight smile, "thank you, daddy." then closed your eyes when he want in for a kiss.

he smiled into the kiss and held your head close to him. bunyou still tasted like the lingering bubblegum of your lip gloss. but that was smeared all over his lips by now.

you were in a red bull t-shirt and panties. the shirt did nothing to cover the swell of your ass from him. he kissed the side of your head and you leaned into his touch.

"who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

"i am." you said as you looked at him with the sweetest expression, "i'm your pretty girl." you rubbed up against max.

he reached down and groped your ass before he kissed the roundness of your cheek. he could feel himself getting harder in his shorts.

he chuckled, "i ruined you. my little slut to ruin." then kissed your face some more. he loved the feeling of you against him. you really were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

from the moment he saw you at the pool party. your laughter ran through clear as day, and max knew that he wanted, if not, needed you.

"does daddy need something taken care of?"you asked as you rubbed up against max. you heard his breath hitch in his throat.

"you little tease." he said as he squeezed your hand, "why don't you make yourself useful then?" then rubbed his cock up against your front.

you could never say to no to him, just as much as he couldn't say no to you. you lifted your head and exposed the shiny black leather collar that you wore during your 'fun time' with max.

you slinked off the bed and kneeled then watched him plant his feet on either side of you, giving you a full view of his clothed cock.

"you're nothing without me." he said as he rubbed your cheek, "you're just good for keeping my cock wet, pretty girl." his words burned in your brain and made you core hot. you watched him pull his hard cock out of his pants and you leaned in to give the tip a proper, wet kiss.

he stilled for a moment before his hand was in your hair and guiding your mouth fully onto his impressive size. max could be a mean daddy dom sometimes, talking down to you in a patronizing way.

but, fucking hell did it make you hot all over. it was like being dragged over hot coals. it hurt but it left you yearning for more.

max guided your head up and down his cock and growled, "pretty little slut, i've ruined you for other men, haven't i? guess you can't leave now, stuck with me.' he gripped the hair near the scalp and rolled his hips a little up, nudging his cock further.

your eyes closed but you were met with a firm, but not hard, smack on the cheek. you opened your eyes and looked up at him, mouth still full of cock.

"eyes on me. i'd hate to punish you tonight, you were doing so good." he lightly scolded, he even went as far as to wag his finger in your face like a isolate animal.

you moaned and rubbed your thighs together as you continued to orally pleasure him. his cock was a nice weight in your mouth as you felt the fat tip nudged against the back of your throat.

you took it all in stride, you enjoyed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. he was simply so good in your mouth. if he wasn't bullying your throat, he was bullying your pussy. he was making his kitty moan and paint, occasionally squeal and squirm.

but max kept his kitty on a short leash. (sometimes literally).

he loved the sight of you in a collar and on your knees. your bright eyes shined at him as you continued to suck him off. he continued to move your head up and down.

"you look the best like this." he admitted, "on your knees for your daddy." he chuckled, "if i wasn't so protective over you, maybe i'd invite norris or leclerc over. see what i get every night." he yanked on your hair a little, "but it would take a long for me to watch you suck someone else off. you're meant for me." he said as he tapped your nose.

you nodded obediently, like a good girl and moved your head. the grip on you was tighter and the heat pooled in your gut. you felt spit down your chin and onto your breasts from having your throat nudged at.

max sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as he really let you pleasure him. he could feel the heat in his gut and he started to tense up.

"you feel so good." he said, "you're so good for me. that's it, take all of me." he groaned as he really started to shove his cock into the back of your throat. it choked you a little with each hard thrust.

he cursed under his breath as it really started to light up parts of his brain. he groaned before he pulled his cock out of your mouth easily and jerked it a few times before he came all over your face. spurts of cum landed on your cheeks and down your lip. he almost came twice from the erotic image.

if only his phone were closer, he could have a little something for when he was on the road. but for now he'd have to settle with watching you eagerly wipe the cum off your face and lick your fingers and palm.

you looked at him, breathing heavily. you looked like such a perfect kitten for him. you said to him, "did i do good, daddy?" your tone was so honest, it made his cock twitch.

"of course you did. you're always a good kitty for daddy." he chuckled as he rubbed the top of your head, "you'll always be good enough for me."

he'd eventually get up and get a damp cloth for you to wipe your face. then he'd put you back where you were before and cuddle you up in his arms. safe and sound, like a good kitty.

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Advisor,

I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.

Dear Awkward Anonymous,

It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.

So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.

Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.

Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)

Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.

Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.

Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.

Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.

It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P2]

[Series Link]

(Yandere x Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, xenophobia, hint to racism, explicit language, asshole male lead]

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He knew your type. Quiet, agreeable, and a little bit of a pushover.

He didn't say it, but he had noticed your lack of reaction when Tahara revoked your right to the summer break. Truth was, he never paid attention to women like you when he was in college. The quiet ones who took things seriously as if they had something to lose, those were hard to get. He never bothered with those who were hard to get when there were plenty of other options. He liked the sunkissed  blondes who knew to dress up in white sundresses and spaghetti straps, those who knew to party on Saturday and yoga class on Sunday. They never put up a hard fight, just the right amount, and when he got bored so did they. In and out of his bedroom they whirled, whimsical and effortless. He never bothered to find out if they were smart or complicated, and if they tried to show him, he'd move on to the next. A part of him felt bad, but the encouraging jokes and nudges of his frat brothers overrode that twinge in his chest when he saw sad eyes following him down the campus walkway. It didn't matter, not if he got the liquor and summer yatch trips.

He also liked other types. Soft-spoken brunettes who listened to sad songs and doodled hearts onto his notes. Fierce raven-haired girls who knew to throw back shots and moved their bodies to the music. The rich exchange girls who, despite their attitudes, knew their ways around his body and submitted to his rhythm. He liked them all because he could consume them, so he said he support women. Those he didn't like, well, they were on their own.

So he didn't mind that you were older and reserved. True, he never bothered with women like you because he thought he could do without them, but now that he was in Tokyo all alone, he could see your values. So, he thought to look.

You were the serious type. Soft-spoken, patient, and reserved. You looked after yourself rather dilligently - your clothes fit well, and you smelled of subtle floral perfume. Your movement when you walked around the school were gentle but decisive - you knew what to do, and you did it quick, as if you always had something better to do. A part of him didn't like that. For why, he didn't interrogate. "Why" was never a questioned he bothered with, since he could do well for the first 22 years of his life without it. When someone always get what they want, they hardly ever want to know "why".

He knew he was brash and bold to ask you out for dinner, but he assumed you knew the implication. He was interested enough. You had a fine body, and you knew how to look good. "Late bloomer" was what he liked to call women like you, the type who took themselves too seriously in school, but then learnt how to be pretty in their latter years. They would know how to relax, to not be so uptight.

So there he sat in a booth at a restaurant downtown, waiting, a little impatient to see that you were late. Perhaps he was to blame to tell you to take your time and freshen up at home. He wondered if you would doll up. Where would you show your skin? Where would you shave? He liked it shaved. His fingers toyed with the small tea cup, tapping its side and running down the curve of its rim.

"Hi! Sorry for the wait... I was caught up with a phone call."

He looked up. There you were, smiling down at him. He shamelessly looked at your body, studying the way the nice dress pants accentuate your hip and ass. Then, as you sat down, he took notes of your off-shoulder top, then the blink of your earrings. You may tried to make it seem innocuous, but he could tell. You dressed up for him.

"Not at all! I just got here."

You kept your smile on. He didn't notice that it was manufactured. He was caught up watching you leaning forward, your fingers flipping over the menu. The way your cleavage was catching shadow captured his attention.

"So, how is Tokyo treating you?"

He didn't think you would speak first. You barely humored any small talks during the day, only giving him just enough.

"It's good, it's good", he mused, "I'm enjoying the new culture and people. It's all very new to me, so I'm excited."

You looked up at him now, your eyes narrowing as your smile widened.

"It's a great city. There's always something to look at. Do you ever miss your friends and family, though?"

He leaned in as well, closing the gap. He could see you flinch just barely as his fluffy black curls almost tickle your forehead.

"Well, of course. I miss my family a lot, especially my sister. She's applying for college soon, and I wish I could be there to support her, you know?"

"You have a sister?"

He was pleased to see you following the script so far. Girls were often intrigued by the fact that he had a sister - it means he grew up knowing how to be sensitive and protective. It was a reliable card to play.

"Yeah, we grew up quite close, you know. I still remember her crying like a baby when I left for college", he chuckled, "now it's her turn."

You laughed softly at that.

"Yeah... she must be so sad to see you go to Japan, right?"

He nods, his eyes flickering between your face and your neck, eager to peer right down your top. You must be wearing those stick-on nipple covers to rock a top like that.

"Oh, she was, but she's more excited to be independent in college. Too excited, to be honest. I had to warn her not to get in troubles."

"What kind of trouble?"

He found himself looking at your lips now. Your gentle voice and soft gaze managed to distract him. For a second, he found himself pausing to stare.

"Oh... alcohol, drugs, bad friends. You know the deal."

"Did you get into troubles in college, too?"

The simple question now seemed so implicative. He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing, and he saw that you looked. Your lashes flutterred for a second before your eyes met his.

Empty.

You were harder to read than he thought. Perhaps it was the age difference, he wondered, or the fact that your naturally composed attitude had sealed your attraction toward him. He never hit on an older woman before, so he supposed it was only natural that he couldn't catch your energy right away. Or were you secretly experienced? Three years seemed little to him at first, but he suddenly felt self-conscious at your still demeanor. You were still smiling and expectant, but in a different way than he imagined. You were yet to be doe-eyed, yet to melt when she heard about his bond with his sister. How many men had had their ways with you? Did you please them well? Did you moved and squirm under their touch? He felt himself heating up.

"Good afternoon, dear customers. May I take your order?"

He almost jumped. You didn't. Awkwardly pointing to the menu, he glanced at you who quickly said your orders. You seemed comfortable.

Did he lose his edge?

The waiter swiftly left. Lukas felt that the chemistry was disrupted. His keen eyes watched your form pulling back away from him, and he caught the faint perfume wafting his way. He decided to keep his posture forward, staying on the offensive side.

"I guess I did get into some troubles", he admitted, his hand instinctively rubbing the nape of his neck, as if to conceal what his clothes couldn't. His skin was warm to the touch.

"Well, what kind?"

He couldn't tell if you were interested. You were asking him lots of questions, even from the start. Did you want to know more about him?

"Oh, we were crazy. One time, a pledge covered himself in lighter fluid and lit himself on fire before jumping into the pool."

"Ah... so the typical frat bros stuff. I guess I've seen something like that at X. Uni", you nodded, your smile turning a bit cheeky.

He shifted even closer.

"Yeah, we were bad boys. Were you in a sorrority? Greek life is big at X."

You shook yout head slowly.

"No... It seemed very fun, but I guess I was too focused on other stuff."

"What stuff?"

"I was trying to keep my scholarship, so that took most of my time, I guess. I wasn't too involved with student life aside trom the school's art magazine."

"So you are a smartie?"

You hung your head humbly.

"I guess you could say that."

"So what did you do to blow off steam, then? Or were you at the library all day?"

He felt just a bit desperate trying to know you. He knew his bombarding questions were coming off a little strong, but he didn't want to feel exposed and insecure anymore. He had opened up, he thought it would be fair if you let him in a little. Wind down, be less uptight.

"I went to Ellum sometimes."

Ellum, the bar street. So you knew how to party after all. Maybe you did have experiences with men.

"Oh, me and my boys liked it there."

"For troubles?"

He laughed.

"For troubles, yeah. It'd be crazy if we met and never knew it."

"Well, it was all dark and loud in there. Maybe we did."

"Then it's fate."

He felt corny saying it, but the words slipped out anyway. His heart twisted when you laughed at that, your chest vibrating. You lifted your hand to cover your smile, and he saw a glimpse of ink as your top pulled against your shoulder. Tattoos, huh? He didn't peg you as the type to get them.

Seeing that it was his chance, he reached over to adjust the fabric, his fingertips lingering just a moment too long. He felt it, the electric as he felt your cool skin against his own. You were soft and smooth, like a nice spread of butter against crispy toast.

"Oh, my bad, I just saw your shirt falling off a little there."

Your laugh dwindled. You touched where he touched, your chest rising and lowering at a slower beat.

Lukas found himself feeling expectant.

"Ah, well, thank you", you said, your voice more relaxed now. That was a good sign.

The waiters came back with the orders and left just as hurriedly.

"I have a question", Lukas mused, somehow anxious to lose your attention when you reached for your utensils.

"Pray tell."

"What's the best food place that you've ever been in Tokyo?"

He winced internally. Corny and immature, that was what he was being. What a 17-year-old first date question that was.

"I'd say the unlabelled streetfood carts at the open-air markets", you said, your finger resting on your chin for a moment, "I like to go there if I ever have to stay late at work."

"You gotta show me sometimes, then. I love streetfood!"

He felt stupid clawing at any ways he could to compel your interest. You were right there, laughing at his jokes, asking about his family, paying attention to him. Yet somehow he still felt like you were distant, somewhere in an invisible fish bowl, and what he had said to you were muffled through the water and glass.

"Of course, I'd be happy to. But let me know if you are allergic to anything, or if you are scared of seafood."

"Not at all", he confidently shook his head, "I went to Italy last summer, and the seafood was amazing!"

"Trip across Europe?"

"Trip across Europe", he nodded, "I'd say, Italy for best seafood, France for best wine, Germany for best beer, and Netherlands for the best, well, you know..."

You playfully rolled your eyes.

"I see you like to travel."

"Oh, it changes my whole perspective. I really found myself, you know. It's like... I come back a whole different person. I think everyone should travel."

You gave him a strange look. Not a scowl nor a frown. A gentle squint of the eyes. It could be anything. He couldn't decide if he was being too boastful, or if he had said something wrong. Did you not like that? Maybe you hadn't been as well-travelled as he was, and what he said had come across as unrelatable.

"But of course, you know, if your money allows it. It doesn't cost as much as you think if you know how to budget."

The playful twinkle in your eyes told him that you were responding to him, and likely not negatively. Still, he felt more stupid adding on to what he said. He didn't know why, but he felt as though you were looking down on him.

Why would you look down on him?

Lukas may not realize it, but this was one of the rare occasions when he let the "why" bother him.

"Of course, travelling can be great. I haven't travelled much, but I imagine that when I have enough money, I would travel. I have a few places in mind."

"Where to?"

"For starter, Norway."

Weird answer.

"What's in Norway?"

"The aurora borealis."

He furrowed his brows.

"You want to see the northern light?"

"More than anything."

"It doesn't cost that much though."

"Yeah, but solo travelling costs more, I imagine."

"I can go with you."

He felt decidedly stupid and overconfident.

"Wouldn't that be something...", you commented, your eyes casting aside, "well, that's my top destination for sure."

You were growing cold again. Lukas couldn't for the life of him figure out where he was going wrong. Maybe you just weren't attracted to him, but that was unlikely. He knew how good he looked. He may have heard "sorry I have a boyfriend" and "I'm looking for something serious", but he couldn't think of a time when someone had admitted to him not being their type. Not even behind his back.

"Also, you seem to like to drink. Two out of the four places you mentioned was about alcohol."

He didn't expect you to pick up on the conversation. Maybe he simply had gotten into his head.

"Oh, I guess. I did drink a lot in college, but that's just what it was all about, you know?"

"About troubles, I know."

He felt his face growing hot.

"Right... well, I'd love to know what other Japanese drinks are like, too. I've tasted sake, but it was mild. I'm more of a beer and shots guy."

"Wine, too, right? In France."

You had not once lost your composure. He felt like he was squirming in his seat. He wanted to sleep with you, that was clear. He needed to know what it was like to get with someone older than him, even if it was a mere three years. What would you be like in bed? What did you learn from all the men from your past? The unphased facade, the tattoo, the way you maintained your calm upon his touch and his banter... you knew something he didn't. You had experienced things he hadn't.

"Right, that. Do you drink at all? Here, in Japan, I mean."

"Sometimes."

"Hey, it's a Friday night. Do you maybe want to grab a drink at a pub somewhere after this?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous. He knew he was being brash and bold, but he couldn't help it. You were something he wanted to add to his collection.

Letting you mull over it, he watched your calm face.

"Sure...", you softly agreed, "but only for a little while."

"Something coming up tomorrow?"

Someone to see tomorrow?

Your blank eyes glimmered under the flourescent light for a second. He almost wanted to hold his breath.

"Just some personal affair in the afternoon."

There you go being elusive again. He thought he would have had you in his palm by now, but not yet. Maybe he didn't know your type.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous. 

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf. 

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

---------------------------

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[gurugirl]

Desperate

Based on this request.

Note: Can be read as standalone

best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship

Summary: You're invited to the Styles' house for a little get together but surely nothing will happen with a house full of people and Harry's wife nearby.

Word Count: 3,620

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, lying, age gap

best friend's dad!harry masterlist

You had been trying to avoid going to the Styles’ home. Fae lived in her own apartment so it wasn’t like you needed to visit her family’s home very frequently. When you were younger and in college you would often go over for dinner with Fae or she’d go to your family’s house. But it wasn’t necessary anymore. Except that Mrs. Styles was throwing a small party for close friends and family to celebrate Harry being promoted to partner at his company. A big deal really. Fae told you that her mom and dad wanted you there.

And now that you and Mr. Styles had a secret little thing going on it was even more awkward to imagine what that would be like. And certainly, you wouldn’t do anything with him with all those people around, but still. You’d have to really be using your poker face. Which had been hard to do before you’d even gotten a taste of Mr. Styles. Now that you knew what he was like, how good he was, how hot and dirty he could be… you were in for a long night.

You decided on wearing a panty liner because, well, you figured for practical purposes. Getting your panties wet and having anything show through your clothes wasn’t going to be a good look. You didn’t expect that you’d really need it but you also knew how weak you got from just a mere glance. If he so much as hugged you too long or spoke to you with that deep sultry voice. If he grinned too wide with those dimples showcased… He pretty much just had you ruined. So yeah. Practical purposes. Just in case.

Fae picked you up as was planned. The ride to The Styles’ house was nearly a half hour.

“Are you okay?” Fae kept her eyes on the road. She was picking up on something with you. She just didn’t know what.

“Yeah. Of course. Why?”

“You’re quiet. Honestly, it feels like when you and I first met in junior high and how shy you were around me at first. Like you were so nervous,” Fae laughed as she glanced at you quickly.

You tried to calm yourself before she arrived. You meditated, drank chamomile tea, and then took a bite of dried ginger to calm your tummy. You did a little bit of relaxing yoga and listened to calming ambient music. And you felt like it helped.

But the moment your phone chimed with a text from Harry your heart rate increased and you began to sweat. All that hard work to calm yourself down the drain. He only asked you if you were still coming and then said he was looking forward to seeing you. That was it. There was nothing risqué or suggestive in his messages. And that was why wearing a panty liner felt necessary. He did that to you without even needing to try.

You laughed at your friend’s comment and shook your head, “No, I’m fine. Just tired. Was a long night last night at the restaurant. Barely made it home by midnight.” Not entirely a lie.

And that seemed to be an acceptable answer. At least Fae didn’t pry about your odd behavior again that evening.

Harry’s brother and his wife were there. Mrs. Styles’ parents and her cousin and her husband. A neighbor friend from down the street. You and Fae. That was it. Not many people.

There were drinks and a nice little dinner with dessert. Some music. Everyone sat outside and chatted and it was nice. It really was. But you were wound up and trying to will yourself to stop looking at the man of the hour. Every time your gaze found his it sent chills down your spine and you felt your face and neck grow warm.

Harry was friendly with you. Normal. He treated you like his daughter’s best friend. Which was good. But you hated it. You wanted to sit in his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders and laugh at his jokes with everyone around you. You wanted to hold his hand and sneak kisses. But that wasn’t going to happen. The man had a wife that was never far away. He was only yours in secret. In your apartment with the door locked and covered with lies. He was only yours when no one was watching. When no one could hear.

You were good at dinner. Barely glanced at him as you ate your food. Then after dinner you only let your eyes roam his features as he was talking to everyone and thanking them for coming. You indulged in the way his lips moved and how his green eyes sparkled. How his hands and ringed fingers gesticulated as he spoke. His grin.

He looked at you toward the end of his little thank-you speech and raised his glass upward. You raised yours upward with everyone else and then sipped together. Eyes locked. But it was only for a handful of seconds but it got you warm. Got your thighs smushing together tightly under your white linen dress.

And after dessert when everyone was casually chatting and walking around the space of the backyard, Harry put a hand on your bare shoulder and spoke quietly into your ear, “Don’t leave until you and I can have a chat.” When he spoke the word chat he squeezed at your skin and just as he began to walk away looked down at you and winked.

The panty liner was necessary.

You helped Fae restock some of the empty bottles and refresh the ice in the cooler. You tried to keep busy and not imagine what Harry wanted to “chat” about. Or if “chat” was code for something else. You weren’t sure if you hoped it was code for something more or not. Maybe a kiss. Maybe it was just a chat.

You did miss him desperately. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d been in your bed. That’s where all of your trysts took place. At your apartment. Sometimes you could have him for the whole day. Sometimes just an hour. Once overnight.

But you had been busy and were scheduled to work and cover a few servers who couldn’t come in for whatever reason. And Harry had a business trip that had him gone for almost a week. Normally you and Harry got together about once a week. So two weeks and a half was too much.

The neighbor was a friendly guy. He seemed to be very outgoing and kind to everyone at the party. You could see why he was invited and why the Styles liked him as a close friend. He was a hoot really. In fact, talking to him and listening to his crazy story about when he was in college had you reminiscing about your own experience, and he made you laugh. He helped you forget for a moment about your little taboo affair. He got your mind off Harry for a few minutes.

But Harry wasn’t a big fan of the way you were laughing with Abe. The way Abe grasped your forearm and leaned in to tell you something quietly that had you grinning.

And so the few minutes of reprieve you had from obsessing and gushing over Harry in your brain was suddenly halted when the man was standing next to you and your new acquaintance.

“Y/n. I could use your help with something. Do you mind?” He raised a brow and pointed toward the house.

You gulped and nodded, “Oh. Sure, Mr. Styles.” You smiled politely at Abe and followed the broad-shouldered man into his home.  

He silently led you upstairs and to the large hallway bathroom that was never used. Ushering you inside he closed and locked the door.

You stood silently watching him as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his soft pink button-up shirt and then brought his eyes up to yours as he rolled the fabric up his forearms.

“Abe’s a nice guy isn’t he?” Harry finally spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the large vanity counter with a wall-length mirror behind him.

You nodded, “Yeah. He’s nice. Funny.”

Harry pursed his lips and let his eyes move down your body slowly to take you in. He’d seen your outfit and took daring glances at you all night but nothing was satisfying to him because he couldn't let his gaze linger. Didn’t allow himself to take in the curve of your ass or the line of your neck that met your jaw. But now he could really get a good look at you like he’d been longing for all night.

“What were you two talking about?” Harry uncrossed his arms and planted his palms on the marble top of the vanity behind him, jutting his hips out and putting his gorgeous bulge on display for you. He knew what he was doing.

“Well… nothing really, sir. He was telling me about when he was in college. We were sharing college stories.”

“Yeah? Did you find that you two have a lot in common then?” He raised a brow.

You darted your eyes to his crotch and back to his face. It was involuntary. You didn’t mean to do it but he saw where your eyes went which made him grin.

“No. Not really.” You matched his cheeky smirk with one of your own and crossed your arms over your chest when you saw his grin was teasing. He was playing with you. You’d gotten to know him a little over the months and this little thing about him put you at ease immediately.

“Why are you concerned about Abe?” You quipped.

Harry cocked his head and his grin deepened, “M’not. Come here.”

You bit your lip and uncrossed your arms as you slowly took the few steps you needed to close the space between you two.

When you’d gotten within arm’s length of him he pulled you into him by your waist, causing your hips to align with his, “I’m just concerned that I haven’t been able to fuck you in… what? Going on three weeks?”

You nodded and quietly laughed, “Yeah. 18 days.”

Harry looked pleased that you knew the number of days, “Counting the days without my cock are you?”

“Yes,” you smiled brightly and breathed out a laugh as you put your arms over his shoulders. “Miss you.”

Harry looked down at your lips and then back to your eyes, “Yeah? Too bad the house is full of guests,” Harry’s voice dropped low and raspy as he spoke, one hand moving up to your face to thumb over your cheekbone, “Bet you’d like me to bend you over and fuck you right now in this bathroom wouldn’t you?”

You frantically nodded and parted your lips, “Yes.”

Harry tsk’d at you, “So dirty. So desperate. Aren’t you? Are you desperate for me, baby?” His thumb grazed along your bottom lip before you stuck your tongue out to taste it. You were desperate.

You moaned as you tried to wrap your lips around his thumb but he removed his hand from you before you had a chance.

Suddenly he was moving you so you were being lifted up onto the counter and he was in between your legs. His hands sneaking under your dress and grasping onto your outer thighs, “When was the last time you had an orgasm? Is it really that bad?”

“This morning.” Your words were breaths.

“Really? You don’t act like you’ve been satisfied. Did you use your fingers?”

“Yes, sir. And my clit sucker. Pretended it was you,” you smirked and moved your hands down his shirt-covered chest. His dick was growing hard in his pants and you knew he was getting turned on, despite how cool he was acting.

“And you’re still so desperate? Little pussy needs a lot of attention, doesn’t it? Bet you’re already wet too.”

His hands moved upward toward your panties and you gulped when you realized what he was about to find. Your soaked panty liner. Not really very sexy.

When his fingertips came into contact with the crotch of your panties he paused with a confused look on his face. It felt different. Not wet. Not warm and soft. Not normal.

Pushing your legs apart and lifting your dress he inspected your panties and then he realized what it was when his fingers grazed along the edge of the cotton of your panty liner, “Are you on your period, angel?”

You shook your head, “No. It was just for… to keep dry.”

Harry licked his lips and pushed his middle finger under the crotch of your panties and his brows shot up, another surprised look on his face when he realized what you meant. Your panties were dry but the liner was drenched. His fingers found your crease and he toyed with your folds gently as he kissed your lips.

The kiss was soft and sweet and so were his fingers. You moaned and ran your hands into his hair as he stroked your wet labia.

But then he parted from the kiss and removed his hands from your panties, “Like I said. Too bad we have a house full of people. Bet your wet pussy would feel so good right now. Gonna fuck my fist tonight thinking about how wet you got for me before I even touched you.”

You pouted and pulled at his hands, “Please, sir. Please. We can be quiet. I’ll be quiet. I need you.”

“Wow. Look at you. Frustrated. Unsatisfied. Needy. I don’t know baby. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” But you felt his hands on your thighs again. He squeezed at them and his eyes were growing dark and the bulge under his pants was pushing hard at his zipper.

“I am needy. For you. Please, Mr. Styles. Please fuck me. You’re the only one that can satisfy me.”

Harry let out a laugh through his nose and shook his head, “That may be so but it’s too risky.”

His words said one thing but his body language said another as he didn’t release your thighs from his firm grip and wet his lips with his pink tongue as he looked down to your cleavage.

You knew it was a challenge. He wanted you to beg. But you had another idea. You’d already asked him nicely. Said please too. And he still wanted to pretend like he wasn’t bothered by you.

“I need your cock. I don’t think a toy is gonna cut it tonight, Mr. Styles.”

“You’re gonna have to be patient little one.” He thought he had the upper hand. Thought he’d get to hear you beg him some more.

“I can’t wait any longer. It aches. Do you think Abe would turn me down if I ask him?” You raised a brow in challenge.

You watched as he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. He knew you were fucking with him. Slowly he opened his eyes back up as she shook his head, “Such a fucking brat sometimes.” His words sounded mean but they were lined with a smirk as he pulled your panties with its liner down your legs, tossing it onto the floor, and promptly undid his pants, pulling his cock out from the front of his briefs.

You cooed when you saw his warm, thick cock free from its confines. Reaching down to touch him you slid your hand over him as you scooted yourself to the edge and put your feet flat onto the vanity top so you were spread and easy for him to access. To fuck.

Harry’s eyes were already full of lust. His lids were heavy as he looked you over and grasped his cock into his palm, giving himself a few good pumps, holding his tip to your wet hole, “This what you wanted? Wanted to get fucked in the guest bathroom by a married man? Hmmm?” You nodded frantically as Harry’s deep voice spoke lowly into your ear, finally pushing past your tight muscle, “Wanted to me to fuck you with a house full of people wondering where I am? With my wife and daughter just down there?”

You gasped at the way his wide cock began to push through your soft, wet walls, “Yes… yes…” you whispered as quietly as you could and hung onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

Harry let out a shaky breath mixed with a groan as he watched his cock slowly submerge into your pussy. You were so incredibly wet already that when he pulled back an inch before plunging in further he could hear it. You could hear it.

“Fuck. Can’t resist you, Y/n. This pussy is too good. You’re too good. My sweet girl.” Harry was gone for you. He began to thrust and cant his hips, dipping into your cunt so deep his balls thudded into you when he bottomed out each time.

The sturdy vanity was built into the wall which you were thankful for. Glad that the only noises that could be heard were pants and gasps and the sound of pussy being fucked.

You held tight onto his shoulders and Harry leaned in to reach for your lips and fuck you as slowly as possible to minimize the sound of skin sticking and slapping.

Your head was spinning and your limbs were hot. Harry’s grip on your thighs to keep them spread was painful but delicious. When he began to lose rhythm as he fucked into you he released one of your thighs and moved his thumb to your clit just like you needed. He always knew exactly what you needed.

“Gonna come for me?” Harry's lips stayed over your mouth as he continued rocking his hips into you.

You moaned into his mouth and gripped his shoulders tighter as your tummy started to melt and your thighs began to shake.

“Such a desperate little thing needed to come so bad. Couldn’t wait just a couple more days,” Harry’s own words were tight and strained as he felt his balls tighten. You always made him speed to his end too fast. Just like a teenager again. He couldn’t help it with you. Your pretty coos and filthy wet pussy with those bedroom eyes and plump lips. He was just as desperate for you. He needed you.

“Desperate for you, Mr. Styles. Want you so bad. Every night…” You panted and felt the hot decadence of your insides begin to unfurl as Harry’s thumb expertly rubbed and circled your clit.

He felt you begin to clamp down on him and he smothered your mouth with his, knowing you were just about to come.

He continued fucking into you in heavy, deep strokes and kissing you hard as you saw stars and writhed into his thumb. Your spasming cunt around his cock and the slick noises of your gushing orgasm had him unable to hold back.

He panted against your mouth and rutted into you hard, stuffing himself so deep that his come could coat all of your insides properly. He slowly backed out and fucked himself back into you until his balls were drained, all of his come inside of you.

He removed his thumb from your sensitive clit and put both hands on your thighs, pulling your legs up over his hips as he leaned in to kiss you. His cock was still throbbing as he came down and you connected your ankles as he smushed his mouth against yours.

You laughed against his mouth at how desperate it felt. It made you smile to know he was in the same state you’d been in.

Finally parting from the kiss with a gasp, you dropped your legs as Harry pulled himself out, hissing lightly at how sensitive he felt. Even though he’d been milking himself every night with thoughts of you, it wasn’t the same. He needed your pussy to feel satisfied just like you needed his cock. And not just his cock. Him. You needed Mr. Styles. It was becoming an obsession.

Harry dragged his finger through where his come began to leak out of you and brought it up to your lips. You promptly sucked his warm sperm from his fingers and he grinned at your eagerness.

He gently rubbed his knuckles over your cheek, “You are my sweet girl, aren’t you? When’s your next day off?”

“Wednesday. Why?” You smiled at him knowingly.

“Keep your day free. I’m coming over,” he said nonchalantly as he handed you your panties and pulled his pants back up.

“What if I had plans already?” You smirked as you pulled your panties up your legs and hopped down from the counter.

“Cancel them.” He caged you in, palms flat on the vanity counter on either side of your hips.

How could you say no? You weren’t going to anyway, but you liked to tease a little. Just like he did, “Okay. Fine. Plans are canceled for you, sir. Since you’re so hopelessly lost without me.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he shook his head, “A mouthy brat.”

He kissed you one last time before looking at himself in the mirror to straighten himself out and then walked out of the bathroom as if he hadn’t just fucked his daughter’s best friend while his wife and other family were in his house.

You sighed and turned to look at yourself in the mirror with a smile. It was so wrong. But he felt so good. And despite the fact that he was married, you knew he belonged to you.

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[minus-plus-zer0]

Working at Bakugou's Agency Headcanons - Part 1

| Part 2 | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Tags: None (Originally this was a one-off, but I found a good stopping point part-way through so I'm ending it here and posting the rest later)

You're his secretary. He's your boss at his self-established Pro Hero Agency. But you're right around the same age.

It's a little strange, really. You knew what you were getting into when you applied during the hiring process but it's still shocking to see someone your own age so much more accomplished in you. Makes you wonder what you're doing with your life when someone else is already so far ahead.

However, Bakugou (or Dynamight) sees potential in you and takes you as his personal secretary. Everyone else was fired because he wasn't too fond of any of them, so there was an opening. Despite him taking you on, you're really nervous about your job prospects given the graveyard of secretaries he's built up. But the pay is too good and you need the money.

Everyday at work, he's expecting your best. He's constantly barking out orders to any and all of his workers, and you wonder if this violates some "harassment of employees" policy that you're sure nobody really cares about at this point. At least he's not barking at you in particular. He's even slowed down to explain some things to you, which you really appreciated.

But your co-workers often talk about him when he's not around. They grumble about his aggressive attitude and protest against his constant criticisms. But they're here for the same reason as you (the pay rate), and on the bright side at least they know that Dynamight isn't corrupt or evil boss. Just a handful.

Your best efforts eventually become known at your organization and Bakugou gives you some rare praise. No gruffness, no insults, just genuinely saying "This is really well-done."

You almost couldn't believe it when you heard it. You laughed when he said it and then immediately regretted laughing when his eyes shot to yours.

"Sorry, I've just never heard you compliment an employee's work!"

He looked offended and he was about to say something but then he held back.

"Guess I shouldn't forget to do that."

Was he actually taking your criticism to heart? Who knows.

But Dynamight truly is one of the more perplexing bosses you've likely had to work for. You don't really have drinking parties outside of work with your boss or your colleagues, unlike other Japanese companies and organizations. Some other typical company traditions are eschewed, which you may or may not appreciate. Dynamight isn't really the type of person who would like any of those things. He's too straight-edge, too much of a workaholic. He doesn't see the point. But this makes it hard for anyone to get close to him.

Still, there is one day where you invite him out after work for coffee or tea, whichever you prefer. There's no ulterior motives, no wish for a pay raise, you're just honestly interested in his life.

The worse he can do is say no. Actually, he can do much worse than that, but you try it out anyways. To your surprise, he agrees immediately! It's a little funny how quick he was.

He's got the best taste in dineries, since he has high standards and all. He takes you to a really fancy restaurant and you're gobsmacked at the prices. You don't have that kind of money, but he brushes off your concerns. He's got money to burn.

You learn more about him. He's still pretty informal as ever, despite the suit and tie he's wearing per the restaurant's formal dress expectations. He doesn't really mince words with you or talk politely, inside or outside of work. But he's quite expressive and more willing to share about himself than you would've ever believed.

He's telling you about his high school years and how it led up to this point. You're familiar with the story since you've seen him at the Sports Festival and you just kept hearing about him and the other U.A. students from there. He states your Quirk is good enough to be a Pro and outright tells you he'd personally train you if you wanted.

You've got your hands full with your current life as is so you can't take the offer, but you're pleased he even suggested it!

"Maybe if I train, I'll even surpass you someday!"

"Don't get cocky!"

It's really easy to joke around with him and get into a nice flowing casual conversation. You've never seen him act like this. Even with other Pro Heroes it usually took a lot of time for their friendship to remotely get to that point.

In fact, you point that out to him, as well as his aloof reputation with the public. Normally you shouldn't tell your boss those kinds of things, but Bakugou isn't your normal boss.

Bakugou sneers at your playful observation and says if he doesn't need to open up then he doesn't do it at all. He says you're looking too much into things.

But he's smiling at the end, and he bites back at you with his own observation, saying that you've got a lot of time on your hands if you're keeping a close eye on him.

You say he's got some food stuck in his teeth and successfully distract him from the subject.

Okay, maybe you DO like him. Maybe you do fancy one of the highest ranking Pro Heroes in the country who acts just like a good friend with you when he's not in the office. It's not your fault. He's just so kind to you.

But he's your boss, and you know he's dedicated to his work above all else...

Still, you find him the next day at work greeting you first thing in the morning, remarking about your evening together. He's recalling it with a rare soft smile on his face.

You're glad it's a happy memory for him.

[occamstfs]

No Need to Pledge, Just Drink.

Thanks for the Warm Response! Here's a shorter piece - Occam

It’s definitely not normal that they invited me to this party. It was a direct invite too, obviously. I wouldn’t show up unless someone explicitly asked. From what I understand frat parties don’t usually have a guest list, but I am not one to just wander in. 

Judging by how unpleasant this is so far I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have accepted Derek’s invitation at all. I start to look around for the nearest exits which is when Derek finally shows his face, approaching me with two drinks in hand.

“Sup bruh! I’m so stoked you could make it! This party is gonna be absolutely killer soon so I hope you can stick around!”

“Ah, well I was-”

“I brought you a little drink broski! I know shit like this isn’t your cup of tea so I figured you’d take the assist, this stuff’ll loosen you right up.”

I take the cup from him and just avoid wretching from fumes of alcohol coming from the cup now in my hand. I assumed it was just a beer but it looks like some horrible mixed drink.

“It’s Everclear and Hawaiian Punch bro! As soon as you get past the first taste you barely notice the burn!”

He continues to stand there as I fail to brainstorm a way out of at least trying this. I see a potted plant across the room and know my next move. I’ll give the drink one chance to get Derek off my back and dump it as soon as he turns his.

It’s honestly not as bad as I thought it would be, it doesn’t even seem alcoholic actually? It’s just sweet? Almost to a sickly degree. I don’t really taste the punch either, it's just… 

I start to take another sip before noticing that impossibly, my cup is already empty. I only took a sip though? Something, something is not right. I start to freeze up before Derek starts shaking me, his hand holding a second cup of the punch high above his head shouting, “Brooo! You just demolished that! Fuck! I’ve gotta see that again!” He shoves the second cup into my hand and begins to push his way back towards the punch bowl “Everyone outta the way! This nerd has got to have more to drink!”

I watch him longer than I should have, dumbfounded holding this drink that I didn’t want. Don’t want? My vision gets blurry as I watch him maneuver his massive body through the crowd. Woah, I guess this is what alcohol does? I feel myself start to grin watching him struggle to fill a two-liter with whatever that punch is. Jungle juice? Oh Shit? Is he bringing that to me? 

The DJ switches playlists and I feel excitement quickly start to build in my chest. I fuckin’ love this song! I start to inch towards the crowd before I’m elbowed in the face and my glasses fall directly into my cup.

“Hey dude! I need those to fuc- I need those to see” I instinctively shout as I look to see my glasses just peeking out of my cup. Before picking them out though, I notice that my vision is actually better now? Which briefly starts to set my veins afire once more, why have I been going to a fucking optometrist for years I start to think, clenching my jaw before I look closer into my cup.

This alcohol must really be getting to me or Derek is pulling another prank on me or something. My hair looks so stupid up like that. I start to move my hand to fix it before seeing my arm reflected. 

Or is that even my arm? It shouldn’t be? It’s the size of my head. I shouldn't be able to life something that size if I wanted to. I need to get some fresh air, or just some quiet space. I need to get out. I need-

“Party king coming through! Sorry bro I couldn’t get the bottle to fuckin work so I hope two more cups will do” I see two cups clenched in massive hairy, may as well be, paws starting to pass back through the dance floor. My own hand flexes and I drop my drink, spilling it all over my shoes as I bolt to find a bathroom. Cheers of “Party Foul” ring out as I dash, completely ditching my glasses without a second thought.

I weasel my way through the crowd feeling less agile than usual. Finding it much easier to shove these pipsqueaks out of the way than to squeeze between them before I find peace in the second floor restroom, miraculously without a line outside. I don’t question why I suddenly know the layout of this house as I slam the door and take a deep breath. Music still comes through the door as I reach for the light and prepare to look in the mirror.

The haircut was the least of my concerns. I look like a beast as I start to hyperventilate. I feel the music outside the room quicken matching my heartbeat, my newly 20/20 eyes stare into themselves as they turn from blue to a deep brown and visibly lose acuity. I feel my biceps pressing against the sleeves of my t-shirt narrowly avoiding a deliberate flex to rip the shirt apart. 

I notice a stink other than jungle juice coming up from my feet as I feel them beginning to push against the tongue of my shoe. I collapse to the floor and quickly struggle to untie my laces before squeezing my feet out. Immediately apparent are drastically rattier socks than I remember putting on to get ready for this party. Full of holes and stains, I dread knowing whose socks these are and what is happening before recognizing them as my own. Or really they could be any of my bros socks but who cares.

As soon as this thought pushes its way into my head a pit drops into my stomach. I am an only child, I don’t have any bros, or well, I have a house full of bros now right? Getting up off the floor I again glance into the mirror. My jaw is wider, my stubble itches but just like it always does, right? I put my face in my hands creating enough strain in my small shirt to force a tear down the back. Why am I wearing such tiny tiny clothes anyway? Must be Derek hazing me again huh. I think holding in a guffaw, I wonder how he got me in these?

I tear the rest of my shirt away before doing the same to my pants which is when I learn that I have apparently been going commando this whole time. Now free of these nerdy-ass clothes I flex in the mirror. Pecs popping like always, my bros always say the hair hides my pump but who cares bro I want to look like a man. I briefly shake my cock at myself in the mirror smirking and see laid out behind me are a change of clothes that Derek must have laid out for me. 

There are a pair of slides, some athletic shorts and a massive stringer that says “Party Prince” Bro! He must have made us matching shirts! 

I quickly start to change to match with my Bro and see cologne on the counter. I’m sure bro won't mind if I use it. Each spritz I feel myself fill out my tank even more, veins beginning to peak out down my arms and my package becomes even harder to miss in my shorts. I do a few more poses in the mirror before hearing a knock at the bathroom door.

“Bro you in there? The party’s dying without you bro!”

Hearing my big bros’ cry for help I get my head in the game. I’ve got to bring it tonight. I kick the locked door open, completely shattering the door frame as I cry out- “Who’s ready to drink tonight,” tossing the awaiting cup of jungle juice into the air over the crowd.

[yeonbinwyd]

Can you do Heesung next? Thank you 🥹

of course!! rest of the hyung line next??

after party

pairing: sub fem!reader x softdom! heesung

synopsis: you had been friends with Heesung for some time. You always felt there was sexual tension between you two but he wouldn’t admit it. After one night out for an event turns into too much drinking, the truth comes out.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink, romantic?, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: I personally think heesung would be the biggest baby when drunk and begs for attention being all needy.

Word count: 1127

“Whats up with your phone? You’ve been blowing up all night.” You were at dinner with your best friend. She had asked in an irritated tone. “It’s just a friend. He’s super drunk right now and he wants to meet up” you explain.

“He??? Wants to meet up” she’s now intrigued.

“Stop he’s just a friend. I think he just needs some support. “ you continued. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. He was lucky you both were warping up dinner and were about to go separate ways. You two spilt the bill and went off your own ways. He had been in front of a boba shop that still open, hands in pockets, leaning against a bike rack. He was bright red, trying to cover his face until he saw you.

“Heeey” he coos “I’m so glad to see you! Let’s get some boba and something to eat! I’m starving.” Heesung requests throwing his arm over your shoulder. He puts his weight on you, standing over you. Managing him while drunk was going to be tough.

You listened to his request and got him his favorite tea with something solid to eat. When you brought them back to him, he was beyond excited, he even kissed your cheek.

“You’re a life saver! Thank you!! “ he doesn’t waste any time and takes them both in. You both sit outside since he was being obnoxiously loud but it was the one thing you really enjoyed about him.

“You know you’re the only one I really trust when I’m like this.”

He confesses. You’re not surprised since you haven’t drank once during the entire time of their friendship.

“I’m so glad you’re in my life.” He adds while taking a bite of his chicken. With furrowed brows you glance back at your phone, shoving off his comment. He scoots closer beside you.

“I mean it” he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. You can’t take him seriously and laugh in his face.

“You can’t be for real right?

“You don’t think I can be serious?” He asks while giving the saddest eyes.

“Not in the slightest. At least not while you’re drunk. “ you set him straight but he doesn’t want to give up. Heesung scoots even closer, leaning in to kiss your lips. You let him, tasting the taro tea he had been drinking lingering on his mouth. He cups your face, trying to deepen the kiss but you pull away.

“No wait” you stop him.

“Too much?” He backs away to give you space.

“No I like it. ” without a second thought, you grab his hand, causing him to leave his snacks where you two were sitting. You two get in the backseat of your car and continue the kiss. He smirks while pressing his lips on yours, feeling victorious. Heesung hugs your hips making you to sit on his lap. His kisses turn into little nibbles, caressing your collar, nuzzling in your neck. His glorious moans.

“I really feel at home with you.” He admits hugging you snug. You give him a shy smile but he can’t see you in the dark backseat. You grab his chin, smiling into the kiss. Heesung takes the hint and holds you closer. Him being drunk have him the courage to make a move. He just wanted to gush his feelings for you nonstop.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I want you to be mine.

Can we be together?

All thoughts of his running through his head. As his tongue dominates the kiss, he starts to shed off his clothes, while you do the same. You take off your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. His eyes widen in excitement. Heesung rotates your hips to grind against him. Throwing his head back, exposing his Adams apple, he moans lowly. He grinds back, forcing you to groan in return. He starts to bury his face in your chest while placing kisses, worshiping them.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He begged, face still red and flush.

“Please” you beg in return. You get off his lap to have him undo his pants. His hard on, soaked in pre cum was ready for you. Lifting up your skirt then shifting your panties to the side, you glide down. You were equally as wet, wanting him for so long too. You cry out at his massive girth causing you to not move yet. Concerned, Heesung places kisses on your cheek.

“Take your time” he instructs. You don’t give up and prop your hands on his shoulders. He leans back against the car seat, as you take control. As you ride him, he looks almost in tears, overwhelmed with the pressure he’s received. He grips your hips, helping you move up and down. Each move, bringing him closer and closer. He spreads your ass cheeks for a better hold. It makes you even feel even better than before. Your eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, leaving indents, he feels so good you don’t want to stop.

“That’s it you’re doing well” he encourages. He loves looking up at you, taking his cock like a champ. He knew you were the one, it solidified it for him. He laid you flat on your side, lifting your leg up to get in better. He grunts as he enters, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure again. Heesung hugs your thigh, while thrusting in you. He sinks himself into your neck, close to your ear. He feels himself getting deeper and closer.

“I’m keeping you. You’re mine now.” He demands as his strokes become stronger and out of control. You can feel his cock hitting your cervix. He whines lowly while his cum begins to pour out. You can feel him feeling you up but he doesn’t stop there. Heesung lays you flat, with both legs over his shoulders. He takes you in again.

“Make me cum again baby. Make me cum for you.” He commands as he doesn’t lose his pace. You just trying to catch your breath. You panting and wipe the sweat from Heesung’s forehead. Infatuated with you, he kisses your lips, biting down as you both groan for each other.

“I’m close baby. Cum for me” you request.

“Yes I’ll do whatever you want.” He goes so fast that he makes you squirt on the two of you. He cums violently after. He holds onto, not wanting to let go and pull out. Heesung lays his head on your chest in the most needy way. Covered in sweat he helps you get dress and glances at the time. At this point the fucking made him sober up.

“So we should talk huh?” He brings up.

[sien-ten]

Kabru X Laios post-finale headcanons, because Tumblr decided to shower me with content about them

Kabru said "you guys can't build any political connections with elves without me " and stayed as a royal advisor, which surprised Laios big time (he was sure that after fulfilling his promise Kabru would lead his party somewhere else)

Laios turned out to be well-mannered when necessary, so following court etiquette wasn't too hard for him – Kabru felt deep annoyance every time his king greeted or complimented anyone in such a royal manner, until he learned that Laios' trademark airhead behaviour now showed up only when he's with someone he trusts (family, friends... and him)

Kabru warmed up to Laios significantly in a first year of them rebuilding kingdom, they both were stressed to no end, but the more situations they've got to solve together, the more Kabru trusted Laios (even if he doesn't like to admit it)

Laios had to send Falin off to their parents to rest and heal a bit, since at first kingdom was very much unstable (Marcille accompanied her); after his party departured, he felt pretty much very lonely, so he had a lot of time on his hands to contemplate, why he's so gravitated towards Kabru all the time; he vented to Senshi about some of his thoughts and got advised to try courting his advisor – it was later registered as one of the first crisises that kingdom faced since Winged Lion's departure (Kabru was so oblivious that Laios nearly ended his reign)

Kabru and Laios started seeing each other officially only after Falin and Marcille returned – because of Senshi's panicked letters they've brought Chilchuck, who properly scolded the King and set the pair for a nice dinner (yes, Laios hasn't tried that one before)

Laios never experienced romantic relationship before, so a lot of things hit him like a truck – to Kabru's grief, his lover still was too honest of a man, so if Laios though that Kabru looks extra handsome today, everyone in courtroom would know that (exactly because of that Marcille had to take over courtroom proceedings, they couldn't have Laios distracted and guests giggling)

Kabru and Marcille became good friends really suddenly, but they had too much in common not to: elven mothers, grievances about mortality, Touden partners; they made a tradition of having a private chat throughout the day, even if they had meals with everyone all the time (king's order), having their own space to unwind felt good (Falin told Laios about these meetings/tea parties and forbid him to disturb them)

They enjoy to spar on swords and read to each other; sometimes they would stroll through the forest together and look for ruins

On one of Laios's birthday Kabru learned how to cook monster barbecue imitation as a gift (it was a struggle), and Laios was overjoyed (it didn't taste like monster at all, but the thought is more important)

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion underestimated you.

Seduction edition. First Round.

Warning for game spoilers and adult themes.

Tea time! Got the hibiscus tea out this time to match some of the tart in this post. No blame, no shame, it's your game.

As a hypervigilant person, facial expressions speak louder than words to me. This unpacking is based off of his face as the time things were said, vs what he said or dev notes. This is a cannon post. Not fact.

In my playthrough I triggered the sex scene before the Tiefling party. Which had me in hysterics because his dead ass propositioned me in front of everybody in the party that day. Like he was asking me to share a sandwich later and not offering to put me on my knees and make me beller like a mule.

Astarion Audacity Ancunin! Really?!

Anyway....

I am fairly certain when he promises you a night you wont forget. He wasn't thinking that he too would not forget that night. Lets look at how you disrupted his rizz.

The initial seduction goes as normal for him. He is charming, suggestive and even encouraging when you are unsure. Ensuring you come willingly to his web.

After you agree, you get your your first glimpse of what I believe is him disassociating. He does not smile or continue the seductive look when he says "I can't wait." His yes are just gone. He hates this game.

After you meet up with him in the woods he is pretty confident that you are going to do exactly what he expects of you and his plan will go off without a hitch. However...

You play hard to get.

Nothing says "What game are we playing here?" quite like this face when you tell him he does not have you yet. He is trying to figure out your intentions here. He was pretty certain you were coming out in the woods to ride him to the fey wild and back and most likely did not expect you to be cheeky. This might be the first moment he realizes this might not be a typical encounter.

"I need to get this back on track!"

Enter the redirect. The split second where he slips out of the sexy facade due to your flirty comment and then back into it.

He thinks everything is back on schedule and he is in control again.

But then, you ask him what he wants.

Oh, hello real Astarion. (brain exec has failed here)

You can bet, given the consistency of his past, he was ready for you to just speed past the formalities and get your hands on him for you own needs like every conquest before you. He does not expect anyone to care enough to ask him about his own desires in these moments. (He affirms this down the friendship route where he says he himself never got any pleasure out of the act.) So when you do, the mask of the seductive rake slips off even longer as he suddenly has no idea how to respond to someone who has gone completely off script. To me, the look on his face reads "Oh shit. What did they just ask me?! Why did they ask me that?! What in the hells do I say?! " But he redirects again trying to bring the encounter back into familiar territory by dialing up the sexuality again by using "taste" as an inuendo.

But then doubt sets in. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

He is on the back foot now. The facade is crumbling. You are not where he can see you in his normal view of how this rendezvous should go. You're not responding like he is used to. You haven't tried to grope him yet. You haven't gotten into his personal space. He's given you the "go" why are you not moving?

"To lose yourself in me."

I know a lot of people read this moment as he is sad you are agreeing to sleep with him. But it doesn't quite fit. Why try to be so convincingly seductive through the whole thing just to drop it all right at the "win" ? The smart thing to do would be to keep the mask of lust on. But he doesn't. It falls completely off here.

Maybe its because you are not responding with reckless lust in return and he feels like his plan has already failed.

Maybe it because you are being too nice to him and he is feeling ashamed for manipulating you.

Maybe he fears this might be another Sebastian situation where he is using someone he doesn't feel he should.

Maybe he has a moment where he forgets that he is free and thinks Cazador will take you away when its over.

Maybe he is tired. Tired of of hiding behind the hypersexual avatar he as played for centuries. Tired of putting himself in situations where he is a thing to be used to get what he needs. Tired of being a gateway of death. Tired of connecting to nothing.

It could be a number of things. Who really knows.

But then you nod. And the game is back on. His normal is returning and he feels like he is in familiar territory again.

"I thought so."

But I think he already has a feeling this is going to be different. Or at least, lets himself hope that it will be. Someone who is thoughtful enough to ask how they can meet your needs surely won't be the same as those who didn't give a damn.

The morning after and we claim to notice that he was disassociating at times.

"Shit, they noticed!"

He probably has not had to worry about hiding the fact that he was disassociating. But then here you are caring about his comfort during the deed that he got caught. He wasn't expecting that. And is quick to admit, because he can't deny it, and quick to excuse it. But even if he did space out form time to time, it wasn't all the time.

"That night was special to me. I've been on my back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, you I'll remember."

He literally says he didn't disassociate as much with you as he would have others. Given it was default mode for him during sex, I like to think he fought to stay present with you as best he could.

But you, you are a complication.