#this one is steamy folks!

[forzalando]

take my hand

another 3k celebration blurb! this time, best friends to lovers with lando for my dear friend lee @scuderiahoney 💛 i hope you all love this one, it's an apology for unrequited love!lando lol no heartbreak this time, folks!!! i'm being nice!!!! set at the 2024 spanish gp but definitely some inaccuracies with the post race timeline and also please pretend max fewtrell was there pairing: lando norris x fem best friend!reader word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a blurb wtf is wrong with me) summary: it can be so easy to fall in love with your best friend, and it can also be incredibly hard to imagine a world where they love you back. in this world, you're one of the lucky ones. tw: short but steamy makeout scene, mild cursing

Loving Lando Norris was so astonishingly easy. It came as naturally as breathing for you and has for over half of your life.

You met so many years ago but it still feels like yesterday that he reached out to you and said, “take my hand”, pulling you gently off the ground while the other children laughed at your clumsiness. He told you that they laughed at him too – he was short, shorter than you even at that age, and he struggled to read and write. You vowed that day to always pick each other up when you fell or faltered, always stand by each other’s side even when everyone else was laughing, and although it was a promise made between two children, neither of you had ever broken it.

Smiling at the memory, you were off in your own little world – thinking about the days when he would pick you “flowers” at recess (you didn’t have the heart to tell him they were weeds) and you would always share half of your cookie at lunch.

A voice pulled you from your trance, making you jump slightly at the sudden interruption.

“What are you thinking about? Or should I say who are you thinking about with that dopey smile on your face?”

You turned to face Max Fewtrell, a staple in both yours and Lando’s lives for just as long as you’d known each other.

“I was just thinking about where we’ll go for a celebratory dinner after the race. I’ve been craving gourmet pasta and a fruity cocktail.”

“Right, and my name is Willy Wonka. You don’t have to tell me the truth, it’s fine! Just thought I’d let you know he’s looking for you, he wants you in the garage for the race.”

Your heart swelled – even though Lando asked you to be there for every race you could attend, it never failed to make you giddy. You nodded your head at Max, he smirked back at you, and you walked as quickly as possible to the McLaren garage without calling attention to yourself.

As soon as you stepped into the garage, you ran straight into Oscar and the force almost knocked you to the floor.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” he groaned. “Lando’s insufferable, asking where you are every five minutes.”

“Where is he? In his driver’s room?”

“Yeah, that’s where I last saw him headed,” Oscar yelled over his shoulder, walking towards his car. “Go work your magic on him!”

You rolled your eyes as you walked the familiar route to Lando’s driver’s room, your heart rate picking up a bit the closer you got to it. As soon as you were in front of the door, you knocked once and paused, then twice in quick succession, and once more after another brief pause – the secret knock you’d been using for years to let each other know you were there.

The door swung open almost immediately after your last knock and a frantic Lando yanked you inside. He flopped down on the couch behind him and covered his face with his hands – even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had a frown and furrowed brow.

“Thank god you’re here now, I’ve been going insane. I need you to tell me that I’m going to win this race – now that I’ve won once, it’s fucking brutal being so close yet so far. Canada was a nightmare and today I’m starting on pole. They’ll eat me alive if I don’t convert it into a win and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

You sat next to him and gently peeled his hands from his face, glassy green eyes, flushed cheeks, and, just as you predicted, a frown and furrowed brow.

“I can’t tell you that you’re going to win, Lando,” you started to say until he interrupted you with a groan, pushing your hands away.

“Hey,” you whispered. “I can’t tell you that you’re going to win, but what I can tell you is that no matter what, I’m proud of you. Max is proud of you. Your family is proud of you. Your fans are proud of you. So many people love you and see what you’re capable of – winning a race, not winning a race, it doesn’t define you. You’re the hardest worker I know, you’re kind, you are the most wonderful friend. I’ll celebrate you even if you come plum last pushing a burning, front wing-less car across the line and so will everyone else who knows and loves you.”

By the time you’d finished rambling, Lando’s shoulders had visibly relaxed and he was smiling. Not the goofy smile with his teeth on full display but a smile was a smile, you would take what you could get.

“Thank you for always being there for me. I can’t promise I won’t be pissed if I lose today but at least I feel better now, thanks to you.”

You punched his arm lightly, jokingly, and rolled your eyes. “We made a promise, didn’t we? I’ll always be there for you, always there to pick you up, even if your inability to see how wonderful you are makes me want to scream.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m perfect, you love me, I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you, your days are miserable without me, tell me something I don’t know,” he jested, nudging your shoulder before standing and holding out his hand to help you up.

“In your dreams, Norris,” you scoffed. “Make sure that big head of yours still fits in your helmet before you get in the car.”

He laughed loudly as he led you out of his driver’s room, finally smiling the goofy smile you loved so dearly. The moment was short-lived – someone from his team called his name and he hugged you briefly before jogging towards them, yelling over his shoulder that he wanted you waiting for him in Parc Ferme after the race.

You shouted your agreement, hoping and praying he hadn’t noticed the rapid beating of your heart or how warm your cheeks were when he pulled you into that brief embrace. Although he had said it all to rile you up, you truly did think the world of him. He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you. In your eyes, he was as perfect as a person could be, and oh, did you love him. You loved him far more than a friend should and it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep that to yourself.

As Lando pulled his car in front of the P2 sign, you felt the familiar burning of guilt running through your veins.

Maybe you should have told him he would win. Insisted on it, actually. You should have been adamant that he would rise to the occasion and to the top step of the podium once again.

He wouldn’t want to see you, you were quite sure of that, and despite your promise to be waiting for him with his team, you tried to sneak away unnoticed. You’d slowly made it far back enough to be swallowed by the sea of people until an arm blocked you from getting any further.

You looked up to see Lando’s race engineer with a disapproving look on his face and instantly felt like your father had just caught you trying to sneak out after curfew.

“He wants you here and he’s going to need you here,” Will shouted over the noise of the crowd.

“I think I’m the last person he wants to see right now, I wouldn’t promise him that he would win. I basically jinxed his whole race trying to keep him from being so hard on himself. What if he thinks I don’t believe in him?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Will snorted. “Now please get back up there quickly so you’re the first person he sees when he gets out of that car.”

With the help of Will, you were pushed gently back to the front just in time to see Lando haul himself out of his McLaren. His body language was obvious – disappointment, sorrow, embarrassment, and your heart ached as you listened to the roaring cheers from the Red Bull team as Max launched himself into their arms.

You knew Lando would be running every possible scenario through his mind – what if he had gotten a better start, what if he’d managed tires just a bit better, what if George hadn’t been able to sail through at the start and he hadn’t had to back off of fighting Max. All of those thoughts a natural, valid response, but if he voiced any of them out loud he’d get torn to pieces by both journalists and fans of other drivers.

When he peeled his balaclava from his face your stomach twisted and you silently begged him to look your way – for him to find a face in the crowd that was so unwaveringly proud of him through everything, but he kept his eyes trained anywhere but you or his team.

Finally, you saw his eyes flicker to you, and he walked briskly toward where you and the few members of his team were waiting. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms and exhaled so deeply it felt as if he’d been holding his breath since the end of the race.

“You drove beautifully,” you whispered, combing your fingers through the sweat-dampened curls on his head. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Lando’s arms immediately loosened around you and his head was turned away from you, he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, look you in the eye.

“We’ll talk later, I have to go do my interview,” he mumbled. “Wait for me in my driver’s room, okay?”

You nodded your head even though he was already walking away from you, shoulders slumped and jaw clenched. Honestly, you weren’t sure what hurt worse – the fact that you could physically see his disappointment or that he didn’t say he loved you back.

It felt like hours before you heard an all too familiar knock on the door to Lando’s room – the door gently swinging open to reveal the tired face and frame of your best friend. He must have showered in Oscar’s room before coming to find you – the smell of champagne nowhere to be found yet his curls stuck slightly to his forehead. The sight was endearing, and it took everything in you to not pull him into you and bury yourself against his chest.

“You didn’t have to knock, it’s your room,” you spoke softly, adjusting your position on the couch.

“Force of habit, I guess.” The corner of his lip turned up when he answered you – a good sign, a sign that maybe he wasn’t angry with you at all about your earlier conversation.

Although it was Lando who asked to talk, you couldn’t help yourself from blurting out an apology as soon as he took a seat next to you.

“I’m so sorry about earlier,” you pleaded. “I should’ve said something different, I should’ve just said what you wanted me to say. I meant all of it, every word, but you asked me to reassure you in a specific way and I didn’t.”

Lando blinked a few times as he stared at you, his mouth falling open in shock? Amusement? You couldn’t tell, but at least he didn’t appear to be mad.

“Do you think I’m angry with you?”

“Well, yes,” you mumbled. “I probably jinxed your race.”

“Jinxed it? If anything, you’re the reason I finished second. I kept thinking about what you told me instead of focusing on how I screwed up – it kept my head in the race.”

“But, but,” you stammered, “you didn’t say you loved me back. In Parc Ferme, when you were hugging me. You always say it back, I thought you were furious with me.”

“Would I have walked over only to hug you if I was furious with you?”

You felt a little embarrassed at your panic – “I suppose not, you probably would’ve stayed as far away from me as possible.”

“Exactly, you silly muppet,” he teased, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “I didn’t say it back because I realized that it means something different for both of us and I, believe it or not, got scared.”

Your eyes widened and you felt like you were going to be sick. He knew. You shouldn’t have been surprised, everyone had figured it out – his pit crew, Will, Zak, Oscar, Oscar’s girlfriend the literal first time you met her, all of your friends and family, even drivers on different teams had made comments to you in passing over the years.

“Lando, I,” you tried to get ahead of it, ahead of the rejection and the awkwardness, but he cut you off with a raised hand and a pleading look.

“Please, just let me get this out or I never will,” he begged. “I think I’ve always known, or at least everyone around me has just always told me that it’s painfully obvious, but I didn’t fully realize it until earlier today. You care about me so much, more than anyone, and I’m almost positive I could be the lousiest driver, lawyer, engineer, teacher, architect, whatever, and you’d still always be proud of me. You’d be there for me regardless with a giant smile on your face, an “I love you”, and a hug that would heal any self-doubt or negative thoughts. You mean everything to me and I don’t know what I would do without you but – ”

You waited with bated breath, your leg bouncing uncontrollably and heart hammering in your chest. Waiting for the “but I don’t feel the same”, “but I see you as a friend”, for the inevitable heartbreak.

“But I can’t keep my feelings a secret anymore, even if it might ruin everything, but I have to believe it won’t because we can get through anything together. I love you, Y/N, more than anyone in this world, more than a friend, more than I ever thought it would be possible to love someone. I’m saying it back now, hoping that you feel the same because it’ll be incredibly awkward if you don’t, but that’s what I had to tell you first. I love you. I think I always have.”

It felt like the earth had stopped moving, time frozen and only you and Lando existed in this moment, only you existed in the entire universe. Your thoughts raced with what to say back – something romantic? Should you just jump into his arms and kiss him senseless like you’d dreamed about for years? Unfortunately, you landed on something far less eloquent.

“You what?” Your shout echoed in his driver’s room, if anyone was within a ten-foot radius they surely would have heard you.

“Well, I guess that’s not the worst reaction,” Lando pondered, looking away from you bashfully. “Nora Powell stomped on my foot when I told her I liked her. Do you remember that? I think it was Year 10?”

You did remember – it was quite a horrendous memory for you, actually, as that’s the year you realized you had a crush on your best friend.

“Oh, I was so jealous of her,” you blurted. “I cornered her at lunch the next day and told her she was the luckiest girl in the world and a certified idiot for turning you down.”

His head snapped back to look at you, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You smiled at Lando, tentatively cupping his cheek. “I suppose I’m the luckiest girl in the world now, to love and be loved by the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”

“Oh no,” he insisted, “I promise you, I’m the lucky one.”

He kissed you once gently, tentatively, his lips barely brushing yours before he pulled you into his lap and slid his hands to rest on your neck, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. In an instant, he was kissing you breathless, licking into your mouth as you whined and pressed yourself against him.

One roll of your hips had him panting, a hand leaving your face to slide under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire until he stopped and squeezed just under your breast. You were dizzy with desire and full of so much love for the man underneath you – he was intoxicating, you never wanted to stop kissing him, you never wanted to know the feeling of his hands not wandering your body.

You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to disconnect his lips from yours even though it pained you to do so.

“I love you so much,” you muttered, a tear escaping from your eye. “I never thought – ”, you couldn’t even get the words out, choosing to bury your head into Lando’s neck as he gently rubbed your back.

“I know,” he whispered, lifting your head to kiss you senseless once again.

The two of you were so wrapped up in one another that neither of you heard a knock at the door or the turning of the knob. You did, however, hear the blood-curdling scream.

“Oh my god, my eyes,” Max groaned, slapping a hand over his face while he dramatically dry-heaved. “Get a room, you deviants!”

“Mate, we are literally in a room!” Lando shouted back, lifting you gently off his lap before he leapt to his feet and pushed Max backward. “We will see you back at the hotel.”

“Great, I’ll be bleaching my eyes out when you get there. For the record, I’ve always wanted this to happen, but I never wanted to see it.”

“Well, that’s your own fault,” you scolded. “Next time wait for a response before barging in somewhere.”

“Oh, believe me,” he stressed, “I’ll never be walking into any room you two are in ever again. Not even if there’s another fire and I’m the only one who can warn you to get out.”

“The dramatics are unnecessary but you do need to leave,” Lando insisted, pointing out the door.

“Yes, absolutely, but before I go, who confessed first?”

“Lando did,” you said proudly. “I’m just irresistible, I guess.” Lando winked back at you, which you took to be an agreement.

“Damn it, I owe Piastri, Sainz, and Verstappen $100 each,” Max groaned. “Like they need my money. See you two lovebirds later!”

He shut the door so quickly that neither you nor Lando had time to react to the fact that your friends had been betting on you. It took a few rounds of looking back and forth at each other and then the closed door before you burst into giggles and fell back into the couch, clinging onto each other. You laughed a bit too hard, your hands leaving Lando to clutch at your ribs. Almost instantly, you felt yourself sliding off your seat, your bum hitting the floor with a thud.

You looked up to see Lando with his arm outstretched, a cheesy smile on his face as he repeated the same words he said to you so many years ago.

“Take my hand.”

And just like you did that fateful day, you grabbed on, let him pull you up, and fell in love all over again. 

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

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun @maxlarens @coff33andb00ks @katsu28 @sof1shticated @viikysmile

if you would like to be added to my taglist please refer to this post!

[lostinlovingrevery]

Smutty Stuff About Logan: The Reckoning

pt 2 about Logan and cute (and maybe nasty) smut scenarios. Grab your vibrators folks

Logan definitely likes to make a mess. A big mess. He cums a lot, so messes are inevitable. But his kind of mess is the kind where he comes inside, or over your pussy and he just sits and spreads it all over, likes he's in a trance. It sends shocks through you every time his thumb rubs his cum over you clit and stuffs it into your cunt. Is he drooling?

You're on a mission. You and logan get put in a position where you won't be able to go anywhere for awhile. Logan thinks it's a great chance for some bonding. The next thing you know your suit is gonna and Logans been fucking you for two hours. Its when Scott finally clears you both that you have to both quickly get your suits back on and you gotta finish the mission with his cum leaking out. Hes very smug about it (such a perv)

hes big about his cum being on (or in) you in general. it's one of his many ways he likes to "claim" you

making breakfast together, it turns steamy. Now he's pouring whipped cream and syrup over you tits and belly and licking it off you.

He doesn't finished cleaning you when he desperately lunges to kiss you, his chest sticking to your messy body, food covering him. you guys just end up a bunch of lovesick horny fools with syrup and whipped cream. You take turns cleaning each other.

I think Logan wouldn't be a huge masterbater. I think he'd do it out of boredom. Maybe if he was pent up. He'd probably prefer the real thing. But when you come into his life, and you guys aren't sexually together yet- he's yanking his chain nearly every night to the thought of you. An animalistic instinct he just can't control bc if he doesn't get himself off to the thought of you he's going to pounce you (pls do Logan)

Mutual masterbation. You both sit across from each other (or your straddling him) and get off on watching each other. It drives Logan insane. The rule is that you don't touch each other during the session but Logan always breaks that rule

I think Logan has potential to be a peeping tom. He wouldn't do it right away, it starts when you shower and he walks back the bathroom, the doors cracked bc you forgot to shut it- and he catches you in the mirror. You didn't see him.

He's now in his room desperately getting himself off because he's picture you naked hundreds of times but then he just saw a nice view of your tits and they're even better than he imagined

It's not how he imagine he'd get to see you, but he'll take what he can get. Now he searches in moments he could catch a look at you.

One night he catches you masterbating in your bed. You're moaning his name. He could smell your arousal. He nearly blacked out

His claws will pop out at sudden things that arouse him. You're planning to go to the beach, and he sees you in a bikini for the first time. He spots you and snikt! They're out. He didn't even notice, too busy staring at the way you tits looked in that top.

I'm currently writing a fic over this BUT, you don't like alcohol, but when you taste it on Logans lips/tongue, you can't get enough. you quickly discover you really like alcohol, but only when logans spitting it in your mouth.

you gift Logan naughty polaroids. Some are of you scantily clad, others are you just straight nude in sexual positions. He keeps one inside his coat pocket. It's not just cause it turns him on, but he deadass thinks you look so damn beautiful in your natural state. He just gotta be careful of where he is when he looks at it.

Sucking on Old Man Logans dick, you drooling and your eyes are hazy. he tastes so good, and feels so good on your tongue. He's praising you for being a good girl, telling you he's all yours, to enjoy as much as you want. He wants you to get sloppy, to suck on him and forget about everything else. You've made him cum multiple times already, and you're still sucking on him, even as he's soft and gets hard again.

Trilogy Logan ravishing you over and over again. It's been a stressful week, and he suggested you both get away from the mansion the weekend. You got a hotel room- and haven't left the bed other than to use the bathroom, and take a nice romantic (and sexual) bath with Logan. Hes putting you in positions you didn't even know was possible, pounding into you with an animalistic fury, stuffing you full of cum. you should probably consider getting plan b (unless you want a baby)

Having an argument with Worst Logan and you say something that implies that you worried about logan really caring about you, a discreet and quiet anxiety you never told him. Of course, it pisses him off and he has to show you how much he loves you. Which involves hot, rough, and sensual sex. he's fucking you and making you tell him that he loves you and that you believe it over and over.

Riding DOFP Future! Logans lap, after he woke back up in this new life. Hes been begging you to keep riding him, to keep fucking him. Kissing you sloppily as you ran your hands through his hair. You were busy grading papers, but Logan stormed into your office and practically yanked you into your bedroom. he found you, his pretty wife that he lost before he fixed things. Safe to say, reunion sex is fun.

70S! DOFP fucking you in an alleyway by the bar you two were in. "You looked too damn good in there baby. All those boys making eyes at you. Gotta make sure you know you're mine." he moans as he buries himself deep inside you, practically lifting you into the air against the wall

Watching Origins Logan chop wood from your pretty little log cabin. You get an idea, taking off all your clothes and standing on the porch, ass naked and waiting for him to notice. His face is concentrated, a cigar hanging off his lips. He just looked so hot, and you found it funnier the Logan he went not noticing your naked figure. When he finally looked up, the cigar hung off his parted lips almost comedically, before falling as he dropped the axe to his side, and he made his way to run after you, throwing you over his shoulder and bringing into the house as you shriek with laughter. He makes sure to make up for the lack of attention he gave you by stuffing you full of him and eating you out for hours

Having sex on Logans motorcycle. You're riding together when Logan pulls off suddenly, somewhere private. he gets you to sit in front of him, pulling your pants (or your skirt) down. The motorcyle still rumbling he makes you lean down so you could feel the vibrations of it, while he fucks you. Lets just say you don't last long- but logans not ready to stop.

Logan certainly doesn't want you to hurt or be in pain, but a certain amount of pride does hit him when he sees you walking around with shaky legs

This man can eat pussy for days. He'll get lost in you, licking and sucking and licking over and over. You'll have to push him off multiple times before he's done

I did my Logan variants BUT riding around with old man Logan in his car. Your legs across his lip. He's got one hand on the wheel, the other massaging your ankles and feet. He made you feel good, so you move around and give him a handjob and a blow. He pulls over, making you get into his lap and ride him- because he can just never get enough of you

Thigh jobs.

Tit jobs

nuff said

Actually no

Logan gets so damn excited when you offer one of those. Something about being able to fuck a body part that's not technically fuckable

this man would get himself off on every part of you if you'd let him

yes, armpits, elbows, knees included. hes insatiable. and gross. but thats why we love him. keep being a freak baby, i'll be a freak with you

anyway, he's fucking your thighs and you're watching as his tip appears and disappears, his precum soaking your thighs, he cums and shoots it all over your belly.

with titjobs, hes sitting over you, thrusting his cock between your wet tits. he spit all over them to lube everything up. his cum lands all over your face and open mouth

Tying each other up? Yes pls

Logan definitely loves it. Tying you up, having his way with you. I mean, he's strong enough to pin you down of course, buuuut something really fun about watching you be helpless to him

and vice versa

logan doesn't have much self control with you, so tying him up can prove difficult. he ends up breaking through the ribbons, rope, handcuffs- etc to grab you and fuck into you

you finally figure it out though, the way to make him behave

you grabbed his box of prized cubans. expensive, rare. he only smokes them on special occassions. you had him tied up, and blindfolded, taking off the blind fold- you told him the rules

"no touching. no breaking the ropes. if you do, I destroy each one of these."

Logans face fell as he saw his prized cigars. okay, maybe you both knew you really wouldn't...would you?

logan couldn't risk that

powerplay is fun

cue the most torturous session logan has every experience. he swears he'd rather have adamantium bound to his organs this time than what you're doing to him

you're playing with him. like a cat who caught a mouse. your messing with him, edging him, depriving him of your sweet pussy. an hour of sensory play. another hour of edging. He's not sure if he can take it anymore. surely he can find another box of cubans...

but then you reward him for being such a good boy. lots of praise. lots of riding and sucking. lots of kisses. when he finally gets to cum he's begging and thanking you for it

now he's starting to see why you like him being so dominant

you had your fun though. next time, he's putting you through worse :)

that's all folks! I'll make a pt 3 soon, i just got a few other fics i wanna focus on ;)

[wilwheaton]

DNC speakers painted a clear picture of Trump, his history as president, and his frightening agenda if he wins a second term. But fact-checkers clouded that image to Trump’s benefit. For example, the Washington Post’s Glenn Kessler challenged Hillary Clinton’s statement that Kamala Harris “won’t be sending love letters to dictators.” Trump himself said in 2018 about North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un: “We fell in love, okay? No, really, he wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.” Still, Kessler insists the truth of Clinton’s statement about love letters “is in the eye of the beholder.” Clinton’s actual point is that Trump openly admires and cozies up to dictators and autocrats — not a great trait for the leader of the free world. Kessler insists “there is no evidence” Trump personally sent love letters to Kim Jong Un, and while that’s true — he might have just received them and responded by praising Kim publicly — it’s beside the point. Whether Trump literally writes steamy notes to dictators isn’t relevant. The issue is that Trump’s a wannabe despot.

What's wrong with the fact-checkers?

This is why I argue that the Harris campaign has no reason to prioritize talking to a corporate press. These lazy writers who should give back their journalism degrees and the feckless editors they answer to absolutely know better, yet they continue to take Trump at his word while nitpicking every single thing that a Democrat says. It’s Calvinball.

Everyone under 50 knows that corporate media is a waste of time if you want to know the truth, and that’s a real shame because a functioning Democracy demands a strong, independent, fiercely aggressive and publicly accountable press that follows the truth, wherever it leads.

I hope that the current generation of independent journalists (the real ones, like Jessica Yellin, not the Incelfluencers who spew right wing talking points) continues to expose corporate news media as the unreliable propaganda it too often is.

When I hear folks at the Times, the Post, CNN and other corporate outlets complain about how they don’t get any respect from a campaign that is getting its message out without their misleading spin and editorializing, I love it for them, and wonder if they’ll look in the mirror long enough to actually do something to earn back the respect they seem utterly baffled they have lost.

[shegatsby]

Hello,

could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where he and the reader are on their honeymoon in Florence. In the middle of a steamy moment, Jack calls her, due to an emergancy FBI case, but Hannibal just smashes the phone?(with smut?)

A/N: Hi guys!!! I am here to serve the fandom! Enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT! SMUT IN PUBLIC! UNPROTECTED SEX! WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT FOLKS! POSSESSIVE HANNIBAL!

Y/N woke up to a beautiful summer day in Florence. The bed was in a complete mess but she and her husband didn't mind. Yes, she got married to the man of her dreams a week ago and he booked a cozy villa to show her around in Florence, the city he adored. She has never been here before so it was an exciting adventure. Hannibal was really enjoying being a provider, taking care of his wife, making sure she got everything she needed and desired, he loved to hear her laugh and see her beautiful smile. If she was happy he was happy that was the dynamic. Ever since they got here they could only go out on a yacht trip and visited Uffizi Gallery, other days they just couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Of course when they were dating they often had sex but after marriage Hannibal's desire grew more and more. Now that she was his completely he had this primal urge to be a round her all the time, he never knew he could be into physcial touch this much, because before her Hannibal was a cold hearted and colculated man in his previous relationships but at the moment he was preparing breakfast for her, humming a soft tune.

As he was about to go upstairs and wake her up she walked into the garden, the table was by the pool, one could smell the fresh flowers and sweet fruit in the air, Hannibal was once again in awe of her, she was wearing a white milkmaid dress, her hair wet from the shower, just her natural beauty took his breath every time. ''Morning gorgeours.'' he called for her, she smiled as she walked to the table, he had his beige polo shirt and shorts, he got a nice tan. ''Morning honey.'' she kissed him and sat, ''I already ate,'' he began but when he saw her answering her emails on the phone he cleared his throat to geth her attention, he could be like a toddler sometimes. ''Oh?''

''Come here darling.'' he said calmly, she didn't understand but stood up and put her phone on the glass table, Hannibal sat and patted his lap, ''I want to feed you myself.'' he explained shortly. She knew Hannibal had interesting fantasies but this one was knew. ''Okay.'' she blushed shyly which earned a smirk from him. ''Blushing like a maiden are you?'' he teased her, she rolled her eyes.

Hannibal put some botter on a toasted bread and honey on top, ''Open wide love.'' she opened her mouth, bit the toast, ''Hmm, really good.'' she said, ''I know what you like, love.'' he rubbed his nose on her cheek, as he fed her Y/N could feel his hardening member, just to give him hard time she replaced herself on his lap, pretending like she couldn't find the right pesition and she heard his inhale, ''Darling..'' he warned, ''I would like to feed you first and then fuck you till you see stars but food first.'' he was a man of his word and she was counting on it.

''But I'm full.'' she said looking under her eyes, ''Are you now?'' his hand moved inside the dress finding her already soaking wet cunt. ''Oh,'' he said as soon as his fingers made contact, ''What have I found here...'' he started to gently rub her, she opened her legs so that he could have an easy access, ''So eager huh? Tell me how much you want my fingers inside you.''

She loved these moments were he was demanding and direct, ''Please Hannibal, I want your fingers in me, fill me up.'' and they started kissing as he slowly penetrated in her with his fingers, since she was soaking he could finger her easily. Her back was pressing against his chest and he broke the kiss, made her straddel him, now she was wide open, her feet couldn't reach the ground. Her hands wrapped around his neck, with his other hand he was rubbing her ass, giving few slaps which made her yelp. ''Hannibal..'' she moaned his name between kisses, she could feel herself getting closer and closer, her juice dripping down on his shorts, he started to kiss and bite her jaw line, her neck as his finger got faster, ''Yes darling,'' he encouraged her, ''just like that..'' his fingers were hitting a soft spot in her which made her shake her legs, he knew she was close. As they were wrapped in this moment her phone started to ring, which distracted her. ''Fuck.'' she huffed under her breath and reached to get her phone, ''Who is it?'' Hannibal said, clealry annoyed, ''Jack, it must be urgent otherwise he wouldn't call.'' Before she could answer Hannibal got her phone, smashed it against the glass table, thankfully the table didn't break but her phone was destroyed. Y7N had never seen him like this, withouth a word he threy everything away on the table and stood up, laid her on her back and opened her legs, the coolnes of the table made her shiver but deep down she knew what was the reason, she was turned on by her husband, how dominant and manly he was... He pulled down his wet shorts, and without a warning entered her slick folds. They both moaned deeply, ''My wife..'' he said in a growl. He pushed up her hands and held her wrists with one hand, they were literally in public, if any of their neighbors decided to look out the window they could see but it turned Hannibal even more. He wanted everyone to know that she as his. He was brutal with his strokes, she was already sore from last night but he didn't take, he knew she could take it. ''Good girl..'' he said making eye contact, with his free hand he slaped her face, ''Taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine.'' his words made her climax, her legs shaking again but this time she was in atrance, he was right she was seeing stars. Hannibal followed after few deep strokes and he came in her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, ''Baby,'' he kissed her cheek and then her lips, ''I want you to have my children.'' he confessed, he had the idea ever since he saw her for the first time, ''Yes,'' she said out of breath, ''Yes Hannibal.'' she caged his plump lips in apassionate kiss.

[heechwe]

high & dry | 𝖍𝖛𝖈

➸ First story in the @hogwartsaltior universe! ୨୧ pairing: chwe (vernon) hansol x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.5k ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ tags: hogwartsaltior!au, dj!vernon, gardener!reader ୨୧ synopsis: Vernon is good with his words behind a microphone and with hundreds of students listening to him. Why is it so hard to talk to one girl in the gardening club?

“Thank you for listening to Chwe’s Power Hour sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. Have a good day and night folks.” Vernon puts the headphones down on his makeshift desk, surrounded by studio equipment and paperwork that he always neglects to turn in on time. His homework also sits unfinished in his backpack, but he’ll worry about that later. His focus is on looking over the stats for his latest stream.

Dokyeom, Vernon’s roommate and fellow Gryffindor, gives him a thumbs up as he scours the laptop screen in front of him for the numbers Vernon’s after. “Best show so far man.”

“But do the views say that?” Vernon looks over Dokyeom’s shoulder, anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

“Read it and weep, kid.” To his surprise, his best friend is actually right for once. Almost two hundred students listening in, both on and off campus. The outreach Vernon’s radio show has gotten so far is something to be incredibly proud of, but he wants more. Maybe if he can prove music is not a waste of time, his parents may take him more seriously when he talks about switching majors.

“Holy shit,” Vernon says out loud, smiling at the evidence.

“I know.” Dokyeom closes his laptop and begins getting his stuff together. “Listen, I gotta head to Combat Training, but we’ll go over the next show tonight.”

They exchange handshakes as Dokyeom exits the tiny office space the university gave them as a studio, leaving Vernon alone with his thoughts to ponder during what remains of his lunchtime.

Astrology isn’t the worst degree in the world, not by a long shot. He likes to learn about the constellations, the stars, how the planets moved in tandem with one another in a symbiotic pattern. And sure, being in one of the longest educational tracks seemed daunting, according to his friends, but it’s interesting to look up at the sky and know there’s a system up there that needs to be understood and appreciated like everything else.

But does he love it? After a year of studying, that remains to be seen.

What he does love, though, is his Power Hour.

It gives him a zest to his daily routine that didn’t exist before. His schedule had just been friends, Quidditch, and studying. It was fine at first, but being without something that truly drove him to do more, be more, had become taxing after a while.

Walking out of the building, he decides to go home and eat lunch in the comfort of his bed before his next class, Star Charts.

Vernon loves to take note of the greenery as he passes the gardens towards the student quarters. But he knows it’s deadly to step foot near the many plants and flowers, not just because of his allergies. He doesn’t want to smell like a joint if he steps in the wrong spot thanks to Josh and Jeonghan’s extracurricular activities in the horticulture club.

What does make him stop today, however, isn’t just the plants. It’s mostly the girl plucking weeds from the ground at the entrance of the courtyard, stealing his breath in a way pollen never could.

Face caked in soot and a messy bun at the top of your head, you know a steamy shower is in your plans as soon as classes are over. You loosened the yellow tie around your neck hours ago to focus on the gardening work in front of you, but it turns out to be a bad decision due to it flopping around in the wind. If only the last root could give…

You look up to see a guy facing your direction, mouth lightly agape and seemingly looking directly at your spot on the ground. Was something or someone behind you that you failed to notice? You turn your head to look over your shoulder, finding nobody down the path or coming out of the greenhouse you were in prior to your work outside.

You look back in the guy’s direction, but he’s gone. He’s speed-walking up the path to the student quarters when you do catch the image of him, his back quickly going out of sight.

Shrugging, you go back to the stubborn weed that has taken up too much of your time. Maybe you’ll cut it at the base and call it a day.

Vernon scribbles the score of the student’s assignment on the front of the paper, relieved it’s the last in the stack. TA duties have been completed to fruition, possibly for the first time in weeks. He wishes him and Wonwoo got to switch TA positions, but Vernon’s aware that it breaks all kinds of moral codes for a TA to also be a student of the very professor they’re assisting.

At least Vernon gets to see the architecture of the Law building for reference in his drawings. He didn’t have any painting classes yet, but the more he could practice now, the better. If he was to ever become as good as his mother, anyway.

The tall doors of Professor Sung’s class open, and Vernon almost can’t believe his eyes.

It’s you. You’re not covered in dirt but still entirely breathtaking, holding a large potted plant in your hands. As you walk closer, careful not to bump into the desks on your way towards him, he is unsure what to say for the first time to capture your interest.

You smile and set the pot down on Professor Sung’s desk. Both of you speak at the same time, words blended on top of each other’s.

“Sorry to bother-“

“I’m allergic to pollen.”

Your face morphs into confusion, but you laugh all the same. Vernon wants to immediately crawl into a hole. Why in all things magical did he just let those words come out of his mouth? 

“Okay, noted.” You point to the plant. “This is for Professor Sung. It’s asphodel. No pollen, I promise.” You look over the graded papers on the desk. “You must be his TA.”

Vernon nods immediately and stops, feeling ridiculous again for being so eager and forthcoming with information. What was wrong with him? You were just a girl. A beautiful, cute, hardworking, breathtaking girl, but still a girl!

Your mouth goes slack in recognition, eyes suddenly widening. “I remember you now! You were outside of the student grounds the other day.”

Vernon laughs nervously. He puts the papers in front of him into a neat pile, trying to stifle his panic. All he remembers from that day is you and trying to run from the fact you caught him staring. The cringe he feels is excruciating. “Yeah. I like to look at the plants on my way to my room. You guys have done a great job with the…selection.”

You laugh again and bite your lip. “Yeah, it’s mostly me and Jeonghan. You probably know him.”

He nods again. “We practice together on the Quidditch field. Well, us and my roommate Seokmin.”

“I know Seokmin! And forgive me, I forgot to ask your name.” You hold your hand out politely and give him your name in turn.

How can a person be so gorgeous and nice? Vernon thinks maybe it has to do with your Hufflepuff placement, but he has a feeling the evidence lies in your personality. One he wants to get to know now as soon as possible.

“Hansol,” he replies after placing his palm in yours, your soft skin making him weak in the knees. “Most people know me as Vernon or DJ Chwe or Chwe but y’know—what I’m saying is, my name is Hansol.”

You smirk. “Nice to meet you, Hansol.”

You play on Vernon’s mind in a loop. The feeling mimics the visual graphic Dino made for Vernon’s radio station icon, the turning CD adorned with the words “CPH.”

“Alright, listeners, I hope that music mix brightened your day and leaves you in anticipation for the next one. My name is Hansol Vernon Chwe. Thank you for another installment of Chwe’s Power Hour, once again sponsored as always by Hogwarts Altior. And you have a good day and night. Peace!”

Dokyeom and Vernon take their. headphones off at the same time, Vernon’s best friend blowing out a breath. “At this rate, man, you’re going to be turning discs all over the world.”

Vernon chuckles. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, bro.”

“C’mon! You talk about it all the time. Pull the plug. Chase your dreams.” Dokyeom knocks Vernon in the shoulder with his fists multiple times, turning the younger boy into a heap of laughter. “And, maybe before that, let in the girl you’ve been talking about?”

Dokyeom motions for Vernon to look towards the clear windows of the station. When he does, he finds you there with a smile on your face, an entirely new plant in your hands. It’s smaller than the asphodel you harvested for Professor Sung. The plant, like its pot, is in an assortment of bright colors, mostly teals and greens.

Vernon motions for you to come inside, so you do. You greet Dokyeom before Vernon. “Seokmin and I share a free period, and he told me he helps you with your station stuff.” You smile and put the plant on Vernon’s desk near his headphones. “Don’t worry. No pollen.”

Vernon inspects it with his eyes, unfamiliar with the plant in front of him. His brows narrow in pure curiosity, and you answer the question that sits on the tip of his tongue.

“Muggles call them succulents. They’re really easy to take care of. Just a little sunlight and watering once a week should be enough.” You laugh to yourself and glance around the office space. “Thought the place could use some color.”

“Thank you,” Vernon says. His heart can’t help but be shaken up even more by your presence in his sacred space. He barely knows you, yet he’s so enraptured at your mere existence.

He used to make jokes about his friends when they were down bad for girls, ones that they knew were out of their leagues. Now, he feels like an asshole for doing so. Clearly the workings of the heart are something out of a person’s control.

Vernon isn’t idiotic enough to call it love, but it’s as intense as infatuation can be.

“I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you guys later.” As Dokyeom’s leaving, he raises his arms in the air in a silent chant for Vernon. Thankfully, you don’t notice Vernon’s idiotic best friend and roommate, entirely focused on him.

You stand there, unsure what to do now, but Vernon fills the space with the dumb courage he musters. “I was just on my way to grab a bite to eat. Do you want to join me?” 

He stutters, suddenly trying to play it cool. “I mean, unless you have a meeting or something with the gardeners. In which case, I don’t want to intrude—“

You raise your hand to shut him up, giggling. “I would love to, Han.”

The nickname on your lips makes his heart stop and start again in a millisecond. He could get used to that. Definitely.

On the brink of midnight, Vernon gets a text from Jeonghan.

[YJH]: Got party favors in the greenhouse. U in?

Vernon groans, stuffing his head in the pillow. Should he smoke when he has an early class tomorrow and another Power Hour special? Probably not.

But the second text that pops up makes Vernon sit up straight in his bed.

[YJH]: Your missus is our DD, if that changes your mind ;)

Lunch a few days ago had been a success. You laughed at all of his jokes and even took his hand when he offered to help you up from the picnic table. Although you exchanged numbers at the end of the “date,” he hadn’t found the nerve to text you.

But now, he won’t waste the opportunity to see you.

Vernon puts on his old Quidditch hoodie and a bit of cologne to mask the odor. The next step after he sees you is to do his laundry to avoid smelling as much as possible. Homework sits somewhere in the middle of that plan.

He closes the door to the greenhouse behind him, the smell of the herbs hitting his face immediately. It wasn’t a mystery how Josh continued to supply himself and his friends with…supplements. As the president of the Horticulture club, he can access any specimens at any time. Surely it should been you, your care for plants and flowers not going unnoticed by him and probably your other classmates. Pretty privilege has to apply, for sure. But you’re much prettier than Josh, too, so what the fuck’s up with that?

You smile when you see Vernon enter the greenhouse. Your new friend skates by the stoned, giggly man-children sitting in the lawn chairs and passing their joint around. Hoshi is practically asleep, eyes almost closed and chuckles leaving his lips at the speed of a young schoolgirl. Vernon has the passing thought about how ironic it is all the Slytherins he knows take up their efforts with “gardening” yet probably know only a handful of plants.

“Hey, flower child,” Vernon says, sitting next to you on the workbench.

“Oh, spare me. Is that my nickname now?” You jut out your bottom lip, pouting.

“I think it’s nice. It fits!” Vernon motions with his hands to the surrounding vines and other foliage within the greenhouse. 

You nod in agreement. “Okay, point taken.”

He looks over at the assignment you’re doing, some form of chemistry if he had to guess. “What’re you working on?”

“Lab stuff. If I want to be a herbologist, I have to pass this class,” you say with a groan.

“Wait, you’re telling me there’s actually something you’re not good at?”

You stick your tongue out at him, threatening to poke him with your pencil. “Just wait, you’ll see I have many flaws.”

He knows that can’t be true. To him, even the most minute flaw of yours is impeccable.

“But yeah, just balancing equations and the like. I know astrology is more metaphysical stuff, but—“

“I love chemistry,” Vernon says, standing up and grabbing leaves from random plants between his fingers. Strangely, the more he walks around and steps into your world, the more confident he feels. “Speaking of that, I wanted to ask—“

“Hansol, watch out!”

Little does Vernon realize his back is perfectly positioned in front of an adult sprig of venomous tantacula, the plant ready to spring for the sight of prey. In an instant, Vernon sees your wand appear from your side and ducks out of the way to avoid the impending spell.

“Diffindo!” The venomous tantacula shrivels as soon as its body is separated from the base of the plant. You breathe in a sigh of relief at the fact your friend has not met his demise at the hands of the creature. However, Vernon’s quick dive turned out to be a bad choice. He managed to drop into a large pile of terracota plant pots. Some of them cut up his arms and a small part of his face in the process of his crash landing.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask, bending down to inspect his face. You touch a hand to his cheek, moving his face in your direction. Vernon responds with a gummy smile.

“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix.” Vernon releases a breathless laugh.

“I have a medical kit somewhere around here.”

You run to find it. Vernon’s just dumbfounded and pleased he got so close to you on a technicality. Yes, his face is probably bleeding a good amount, but he knows it’s worth it to see your pillowy lips and doe eyes up close and personal.

When Joshua stumbles up to Vernon on the brick floor of the greenhouse, stoned out of his mind, he laughs like a madman. “Did you fall or something?”

Vernon smirks, resting his head happily on the ground. “You could say that.”

The collection of vinyls, CDs, and musical content in Vernon’s room is a marvel. The piles are mixed in with the typical items in a guy’s room, socks strewn about the floor and star charts leaning against the wall. When you call Vernon a slob in a playful tone, he can’t deny it.

“I have to be in the mood to clean,” Vernon says in his defense. 

You roll your eyes. You’ve met messier guys, but Vernon’s definitely making his way to the top of the list. “If I had to be in the mood to garden, half of the greenhouse would be withering away as we speak.”

“Is that how Josh keeps his presidential position, by only doing half of the work?” Vernon smirks, running his hands over the map in front of him. The homework needed to be done yesterday. Calling you as a reinforcement to make him focus is his best chance at getting it done.

Then again, seeing you now, he thinks that was a mistake. How can he focus when you’re in his room, chastising him to work and clean his room in such a cute way?

You may just be the end of his academic career as he knows it.

“No. Josh is a good president, and he really stands up for us with the student government. If he hadn’t advocated for muggle flora imports when they wanted to put more money in the Quidditch reserves, the greenhouse wouldn’t look half as good as it does right now.” You snap your fingers together. “Like the succulent in your radio station! Josh is technically to thank for that.”

“Don’t let him take the credit. I bet you put in a lot of effort growing that thing.”

You scoff and go back to inspecting his music collection. “Have you listened to every album you own?”

Vernon nods, smiling. “Some more than once. But that’s because some of those are my folks’ copies.” He gets up from his bed to stand next to you, tracing the outlines of the vinyl jackets with his fingers. “Like this one? Stevie Wonder’s In Square Circle? One of my favorites.”

The corners of your mouth turn up. “Surprises me you’re not a music undergrad. You already know so much.”

He chuckles sadly. “My parents thought it would be best to find something more practical to study.”

“Astronomy is practical?”

A smirk appears on his lips. “Point taken.”

You huff. “Anyway, it’s your life. It should be about what you love to dot. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer, but herbology’s my calling.”

“No kidding, flower child.”

“You know that nickname is cringe!”

In the midst of your banter, Vernon was unaware how much the distance between you closed. He can smell the perfume lingering on your neck, the scent of moondew driving him insane. His better impulses tell him not to stand so close. He should avoid inching further towards you. It’s wrong to focus on the look in your eyes that tells him not to stop.

Your breath hitches just a touch, and that’s his signal to throw all of his reservations out of the window. He presses your back to the vinyl player, caring little for the scratch of the record at the sudden movement. He can buy another one later.

He captures your lips with his and instantly feels every worry sap out of his being. You wrap your arms around him, hands firm against the back of his neck and fingertips grazing the ends of his hair. Magic in his world is not just exclusive to charms, potions, and cauldrons anymore.

He has you to thank for the definition expanding.

When a moan slips out of his mouth, you pull away breathless.

“Sorry if I was too forward. I—“ Vernon blurts out.

“No, no, don’t apologize.” You smile shyly. “I wanted you to.” You press your hands to his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palms. “Just don’t want to rush into anything.”

He nods without a second thought, hanging onto your words with glee. You’re into him. Enough to want him to kiss you, at least.

“Does this mean I can ask you on a proper date? Not just lunch after CPH?”

You giggle into his neck. “Yes, I would love that.”

After a month of secret kissing behind corridors, study dates in the library, and even Vernon helping tend to pollen-free plants in the garden with you, he may have to admit he’s fallen into the deep end.

But how does one say that, especially someone as terrible with non-lyrical words as him?

So, he decides the perfect way to tell you isn’t in the standard sense.

He writes.

He writes down his thoughts and feelings to a random beat that popped into his head, the rhymes that show up on the notepad in front of him exactly what’s inside of his heart. He makes final touches, moving a word around and then repeating some others. It’s not a full song, just the idea of one at this point, but it says what it needs to, and that’s more than enough.

Vernon texts his parents about his next special, and this time, they promise to listen. Maybe now he can prove to them it isn’t a fruitless endeavor not worth pursuing.

He puts the headphones over his head, one half of his mind occupied with a million thoughts and the other half excited to see what will come after the special. Dokyeom counts him in, mouth in a thin line from focus.

“Welcome to Chwe’s Power Hour, everyone. I’m Chwe Hansol, the man himself behind this lovely hour of music, and I thank you all for tuning into this special episode of the show.”

They go on as usual, answering user-created questions from the last stream and also playing a couple of requested songs. When they make it to the ten-minute mark, Vernon sees Dokyeom’s cue.

“So, recently, I met someone who has quickly become a very important part of my life. So, today, I want to share something that was on my mind with all of you.”

Vernon nods his head to Dokyeom who begins playing the backing track for Vernon’s song. Some guitar strings and a welcoming beat begin to play. The confidence suddenly rises out of Vernon, taking on its own life as he begins the song. The words come out of him effortlessly, the poetry he wrote for you synchronized with the music in a way that has even Dokyeom swaying in his seat cheerfully.

Flower child,

Why can’t I keep my thoughts off of ya?

You grow in my chest without my consent.

Please help when my heart’s under arrest.

Flower child,

I always recognize your steps

When you walk around my head.

The path you have to be familiar with.

Don’t tell me your interest’s a myth.

Flower child,

Is this garden ready to bloom?

You drive me wild.

Can I grow with you?

Flower child,

Can I show you?

You’ve left me beguiled,

Flower child.

The guitar and beat of the song fade out gradually. Dokyeom can’t help himself when he claps his hands together and cheers for his best friend, the sounds coming through in the stream. Vernon laughs and clears his throat.

“As you can hear, my co-host DK seems to have enjoyed my song.”

“Are you kidding?” Dokyeom says, mouth agape. “Best thing we’ve played on this show, no doubt.”

Vernon chuckles heartily, his chest filled with pride. Not just for himself, but for this creation he’s found enough conviction to share with the world. 

“Thank you again for all tuning into this episode of Chwe’s Power Hour, sponsored by Hogwarts Altior. I cannot wait for the next episode and your thoughts on this one. It was without a doubt my favorite special so far. To all of you listening, have a good day and night.”

When the stream comes to a close, Dokyeom grabs Vernon in a tight bear hug, screeching in glee for the younger one’s success. “That was fucking incredible!”

Before Vernon can reply, he feels the buzz of his phone in his back pocket, your name lighting up his screen.

Meet me in the greenhouse? x

Vernon walks through the greenhouse. The foliage and flora he’s encountered many times in the past since meeting you and beginning your love affair greet him. He hopes the flowers he picked up on the quick run from the radio office to the courtyard capture your heart in the same way the plants in the greenhouse do.

Even if they make his eyes itchy around the eyelashes, he will deal with it. No amount of pollen could ruin this day.

You’re working on some homework at the gardening bench when he comes in. You drop your pencil immediately when you spot him out of the corner of your eye. You smile at the bouquet in his hands. “Usually I’m the one bringing you plants.”

Vernon grins as well. “Thought I’d return the favor this time.”

You leave your stool and walk towards him. Pecking his lips, you grab the flowers from him. “You know zinnias have pollen in them.”

He shrugs, taking no stock in the stuffy feeling in his nose. “You’re worth all the allergies in the world.”

Your cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Pressing your nose into the flowers, you take in the smell with a satisfied hum. “They’re beautiful.”

“They represent long-lasting affection, according to Joshua. But he might’ve been stoned when he said that.” Vernon smirks, grabbing onto your free hand.

You giggle. Staring deep into his eyes, your expression suddenly becoming serious. “Speaking of that, I listened to your show.”

Taking a deep breath, Vernon hopes he can find the same courage he had in the studio then now to use exclusively for you. “Since the second I saw you, I was drawn to you. And all the feelings I’ve had since then I put into that song to express just a fraction of how amazing you are. And I know it’s cheesy, but I meant every word, and I hope you feel the same.”

You step away from him, letting go of his hand and walking back to the gardening workbench. Vernon’s anxiety spikes, unsure what your next step will be. Would you say what he wanted to hear, or would you tell him something that would break his heart altogether?

You drop the bouquet on the table and run back to him, knocking all the air out of Vernon’s lungs with a sudden, soul-encapsulating kiss.

In the pressure, movement, and heartfelt nature of your lips against his, he feels idiotic second-guessing you for even a minute. 

You both separate, lips still inches away and smiles abound. Despite your actions saying everything he needed to hear, the words leaving your mouth just confirms every emotion in his heart. “I love you, too.”

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Nine)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,860

Warning: confessions, loss of virginity, smut, lovemaking, fingering, unprotected sex

A/N: so were actually going to have two more parts! Part ten and an Epilougue! 🥹 sorry for the late post this was a long chapter and someone decided to fall asleep in the pool after chugging down margaritas and yeah—it was all me 😬

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Ten Part Eleven

Love?

That simple four-letter word weighed like a ton in your heart and the pit of your stomach. Did Suguru tell you he loved you? Your breath quickened as he stroked your hair gently; his dark eyes bore into yours.

“You—you love me?”

“Yes, god, I love you.”

Every time he said that your stomach fluttered with butterflies of excitement. But his eyes shut tight as he pulled his forehead away from yours, allowing him to look at your entire face. His was still shirtless, pants pulled down to his thighs, and you were naked, but something about being so exposed made this moment that much more intense.

“How long have you loved me?”

Suguru sat up straight, allowing him to give you his full undivided attention. “I knew I liked you the first day we met. But that grew into a crush that turned into a bigger crush in high school; before I knew it, I was utterly in love with you.” He shut his eyes as he smiled warmly. “Which was as easy as breathing.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, flushing at the sweet words.

“But why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

You pursed your lips together. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t been scared of your deepening feelings and what that would do to your friendship. “I mean, when you said you couldn’t do, uhm—“ you motioned to the position you were still in, “this, it almost ruined me.” Because you were afraid, your boldness had ruined that nearly two-decade-long friendship.

“But I know now, I have to be honest. I can’t keep living with this secret on my chest.” He gently cupped your cheek in his warm hand, his finger caressing the skin. “You deserve to know the truth.” When you didn’t oppose his words, Suguru took a deep breath. “The day Utahime found your cottage hit me like a train. When you said you could be gone for two years, my stomach fell out of my ass. Because the thought of being away from you for that long was unimaginable.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Who else would ensure I was taking care of myself, bringing me food, dragging me away from my canvas? No one cares for me like you.”

“I did promise your mom I’d look out for you.” You try to joke, but his confession has your voice breaking as you are overwhelmed by his sweet words.

“Yeah, and that’s why my folks love you too.” He brushed against your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But that night, we went to dinner to celebrate you finding the cottage; I didn’t know what to do. You were so excited about going, and I wanted to support you. But thinking about you leaving and falling in love with some European guy made my stomach hurt.”

You cocked an eyebrow and giggled. “Some European guy?”

“Yeah, like a French model or something.” You laugh again, and it’s like music to his ears. “But when Nanami told me you were struggling with the intimate scenes in your book and that going on this retreat might help. I decided that if I could help you with those scenes, maybe I’d finally work up the courage to tell you how I felt, but it became something else. Something deeper, something more profound and intimate. I was something living off a stupid idea when I should’ve just been honest with you. We could just be together. And I almost managed to fuck that up.”

“Suguru—”

“I was an idiot. I should’ve been blunt and honest about how I felt instead of hiding behind the idea that I was helping you. If I’m being honest, doing all this intimate stuff with you made me fall even more in love with you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I’m beating around the bush. I fucking love you.”

“Suguru—I—”

“You don't have to say it back; I just needed you to know because I can’t just sleep with you. Not when you deserve so much more.”

His confession was raw and honest, making your heart sing. Without thinking, you pulled his hands away from your face; Suguru's eyes widened as if he thought maybe you were angry. But when your lips slammed against his in a heated kiss that had that simmering desire in your lower stomach roaring to life again. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you firmly against his bare chest, turning his head to deepen the kiss. His erection was hardening again, rutting against your lower stomach; before things progressed any further, you broke the kiss, panting heavily.

He had been so honest with you; he deserved to know how you felt. “Suguru—I-I could’ve been honest too— because I felt the same way early into our agreement. I kept telling myself that you were helping me out, being a good friend, when I knew for a fact that there was more to it. When I thought you were leaving for four months, my world seemed to stop.” His hands gently ran up and down your back as you spoke. “I realized I needed to tell you how I felt, but uhm—“ with a nervous chuckle, you flushed, “I got some advice to show you how I felt; that's why I—I jumped you like this.” Suguru scoffed, shaking his head, and exhaled heavily through his nose.

“And I was told to talk to you.” A comfortable silence draws out between you. “God, we're a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” You let out a sing-song giggle as Suguru chuckles, trailing kisses slowly up your neck. “A couple of idiots in love.”

The sensations of Suguru’s lips slowly moving up your neck stopped at the spot right beneath your earlobe. You could feel how hot his breath was as he slowly inhaled and exhaled against your skin. The burning desire slowly began to spread from your body to all the other parts of you. Your skin was sensitive to his hands running over you, your heart was slamming against your ribs, and you felt yourself getting wetter as Suguru pulled away from your neck to stare into your eyes.

His cock was hard and throbbing inside of his boxers. He didn't remember the last time he was this turned on or if there had ever been a time in his life when he had been so hard. This was different; tension and excitement settled in his stomach. He wanted this, wanted you so fucking bad. Not because he wanted you, wanted to pop your cherry.

He wanted to love you in every way he was able to.

“I—I want you.” The breathless needy whisper nearly had him cumming in his pants. “Sugu, please, I want you to be my first for everything.”

Your first, did you want him to be your first? God, this was happening. It wasn’t a dream this time.

“You’re positive? You want to do this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about it in my life.”

One of Suguru’s hands slowly slid down your back, leaving a trace of goosebumps in its wake. The warm, calloused fingers brushed over your hip before they slid lower until they found your clit. He pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and slowly circled it just the way you liked it. His fingers rubbing against you sent your body jerking forward with a high-pitched moan.

Your legs were shaking, and your voice seemed to crack as Suguru dipped his finger lower, growling at the wet slick that he brushed against. You were soaking wet. The thought of being buried inside of you when you were this wet had his self-control wavering. Accidentally hurting you was the last thing Suguru ever wanted to do; this was your first time; he wanted it to be perfect, to be as painless as it could be. So instead of shoving his cock deep inside of you, he pushed his middle and ring finger into you.

The way your voice hitches, eyes going wide as he slowly begins pumping his fingers in and out of your tight, wet heat, has your eyes shut tight. Your voice breaks the soft whimpers invading Suguru’s ears as he curls his fingers up, rubbing your g-spot with experienced strokes. A tremor starts through your legs, making its way up to your hips and stomach. You melt like butter with each come-hither stroke and kiss against your neck.

Suguru grunts softly as you begin rolling your hips against his hand, spreading your wet arousal over the palm of his hand as he moves faster and harder, the sound of your moans and whimpers feeding into his speed, making him more eager, please you get you off, he wanted this to be the best first time anyone could ask for. His teeth sunk into your neck, drawing out a sharp gasp from you as his fingers rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. Wet squelches filled the bedroom, and the sounds of him finger fucking you only made you wetter.

“S-Suguru—”

He hummed, lapping his tongue over the bite mark he had left in his wake. “You’re so wet~ does this feel good, princess~?”

“Ye-Yeah fuck, it feels really good—i-I think I'm gonna—”

“Ooh gonna cum for me already~?”

“Mhmm.”

“Was my princess that horny that she’s already going to cum for me? I've barely touched you.” His lips pressed against yours softly as he rubbed your g-spot harder. “You can cum~ I plan on making you cum again~.”

His bold declaration, the expert strokes, and his lips on your neck sucking on it were all you needed to send you over the edge of an orgasm you had never experienced before. It was much more intense before a gush of liquid coated Suguru’s hand. Seeing you squirt, feeling your juices coat, His hand had Suguru’s pupils the size of pinpricks, his fingers gently pulling out of you before glancing down at his wet fingers before slowly trailing up to your pleasure-drunk face.

“Didn't take you for a squirter.” He teased, flipping you both so you were pressed back against the bed.

“G-Gotta k-keep you—haaah—” your eyes rolled back as you spread your legs as wide as you could for Suguru. “on your t-toes.”

Your best friend hummed at your breathless words as he reached down, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His heartbeat echoed inside of his ears as you kept your eyes wide open for him, exposing your beauty to him. After years of imagining being with you, holding you close, making love to you, all those dreams were about to come true for him.

You watched as Suguru reached into his pants, grabbing his wallet. Your eyes focused on the foil package. He pulled it out, opening it with his teeth. That in itself could have made you cum for a second time without him even touching you. His hands moved with experience sliding the condom over his cock, before staring down at you for a second before blinking.

He leaned back, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You're not allergic to latex, are you?"

“No, I’m not.”

“Princess.” Suguru slowly learned to get closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? You want to do this?” He pressed his forehead on yours, darting between your eyes to your lips. “You know I’d wait for you as long as needed.”

There he went again, being as caring and considerate as possible. “You asking that makes me not doubt a single thing.” Suguru flushed as you placed your hand on his, gently stroking his knuckles. “I want you to be my first; I wholeheartedly do. Because I love you.” Suguru smiled back, nodding. He pulled his hand away from your face, intertwining your fingers.

“I love you too, Princess.” He slots himself between your legs, taking a deep breath. “Let me know if it hurts, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"I will." She whispered, kissing him softly. "Suguru, I love you so much."

The man you had been friends with for years, whom you’d fallen hopelessly in love with, smiled softly, leaning in and kissing you deeply. "I love you so much.” He held his cock by the base, the thick shaft heavy in his hands. “Ready Princess?" You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, allowing him to lose himself in your intoxicating scent.

"Ready."

“Okay, honey, tell me if it hurts.” Suguru pushed into your tight entrance gently, his width stretching you out more than you imagined it could. "F-Fuck—”

Thanks to Suguru prepping you and ensuring you were as wet as possible, it didn’t hurt like you had feared it would. Instead, you moaned and whimpered, yet whimpered at the same time. "F-Fuck, O-Oh god." You said, gazing into his eyes as he watched you closely, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain that washed over your features.

When your eyebrows knitted together, Suguru slowly paused. "D-Do you need me to stop for a second, Princess?"

"Y-Yeah." You confessed as you gently gripped onto his arms. "Y-You're just really big."

“Oh, yeah—” An almost sudden swarm of confidence swelled in his chest as Suguru nodded, stilling above you as he panted. "N-Need me to pull out?"

"N-No." You took a calming breath. "I just needed a second to adjust—you can keep going, Sugu. It's not so much that it hurts—I feel full."

Suguru nodded again, pressing gently kisses against your cheeks as he slowly began pushing further inside you again. "Mm, I see; as long as you're not in pain, that’s all that matters to me~” A whine resonates in your chest, causing your walls to squeeze Suguru gently. Making your tight, wet heat even tighter. “Fuck you're so tight, Princess—”

“A-And your cock, is thick,” You gasped, your eyes rolling back as you released your arms around his neck, one hand grabbing his own while the other grabbed at the bedding. "But it feels so good, I-I want m-more please.”

Suguru took a second to admire you as a whole truly. How you gently squeezed his fingers, how your other arm wrapped around your head, fingers gripping the pillow behind your head. The way your face was contorting with the pleasure of slowly getting fucked as a growl rose in the back of his throat while he looked down at you. Never in his life had Suguru ever seen someone as beautiful as you.

God, he loved you. He loved you so much that it hurt. He never wanted to do something like this with anyone else. Not when you looked like a literal goddess underneath him. You were taking him so well; it had his cock twitching as he thought of how pretty you’d be in all sorts of different positions.

"Fucking Christ, you look so pretty and perfect—" He started to slide into you again, his mouth open as he tried to breathe regularly. “Like you were fucking made for me, baby, god. I love you, fuck.”

"Y-You're so handsome." You cried softly as he slid further into your tight walls. His eyes narrowed in pure concentration as you shuddered and squirmed. The way his dark, pierced brow twitched as dark strands of his hair fell from his bun to hang in his face would make anyone’s heart palpitate. Geto Suguru wasn’t with just anyone; he was with the girl he loved: you. "I love you~ I—I need all of you Sugu~"

Hearing you say how handsome he was and how you needed all of him, your best friend bit his bottom lip as he shuddered. His head rested on your shoulder as he breathed heavily against your flushed skin. "F-Fuck, if you keep talking like that, I might not even get the chance to do that, Princess." He pressed into you until your hips met, making him moan softly as he was fully buried inside of you. You were his whole world, the only woman he had ever truly loved.

"R-Right, sorry you just—nngh!” He slowly rolled his hips into you, causing you to dig your nails into his back. “O-Oh, god." You said, looking down at your conjoined bodies. "Fuck that feels good." Your walls twitched eagerly around him. "Fuck~"

“Oh, Princess,” Suguru chuckled before he panted against your skin. “You haven’t felt anything yet.” Hot, open, mouthed kisses trailed along your shoulder and up your neck. “Is it okay if I move?” Suguru’s heavy breathing and gentle tone of voice relaxed every tight muscle in your body.

You panted heavily along with him. "Y-Yes, god, yes, please.” You said, kissing his shoulder gently as he pulled back to look at you.

Suguru caught your lips with him in a desperate kiss. As his tongue slowly slid into your mouth, he started to pull out of you before rolling his hips and thrusting back in. You let out a wanton whine into each hungry kiss, your legs shaking as you slowly wrapped them around his waist. God, you loved him; you loved him so damn much. His personality, his looks, his heart. But the way he was gently fucking into you, making love with you, made you fall even harder if that was even possible.

Suguru started to sweat, his face a dusty rose color from the effort he put in to hold back to avoid hurting you. But each time he slid in, and you tightened around him, or your breath caught, or you’d unknowingly rock back against him, it drove him crazy. His kisses became less gentle, harder, desperate against your lips, "D-Does this feel okay? Do you wanna keep this pace, or—“ his cheeks flushed, “W-Would it be okay—if I went a little harder?"

You stroked his cheek and nodded, licking at your swollen and bitten lips. "Y-Yeah, you can go harder a-and maybe—uhm—“

“Uhm, what? What do you need, Princess?”

“Could you go a little faster?”

Suguru swears he feels his balls clench at your request. He wants to take care of you, to be gentle and caring. He wanted your first time to be as unique as you were to him. But he was losing control. You felt so fucking good wrapped around him, your tight twitches trying to milk him for everything he had. Pulling him in deeper, squeezing the absolute hell out of him. That fragile grip he held on to, holding himself back, snapped like a twig in the breeze. His hips slowly dragged out and slammed back into you, picking up a more speedy rhythm. "F-Fuck—Princess—!!"

The increase in speed, Suguru’s deep primal moans in your ear, and the feeling of his body on you had your head reeled. You squeezed your legs around him tighter and harder, trying to rock against him to meet his pace. But your orgasm was building, causing every nerve in your body to catch on fire as you trashed your head back and forth, crying out in pleasure as his cock hit your g-spot with each rolling thrust. His feet dug into the sheets, pushing them down the mattress as he attempted to bury himself deeper inside of you while he pinned your hand to the bed, giving it a hard squeeze as he fucked into you with all of his strength.

The bed creaked under your combined weight, the headboard slamming against the wall as Suguru fucked into you. Drawing sounds you had never made before. Desperate cries., pleased groans, and sharp whines, god, this felt so good. You had never felt so good before. You found yourself in a hazy hue of pleasure as your orgasm began building inside of you, more intense than anything you had felt before.

“Fuck! Suguru!” You screamed out his name, your free hand abandoning the pillow and his hand digging your nails into his back. “O-Oh, my god!" Your moans got louder and louder with each manic thrust Suguru gave you. "I-I'm so close." You reached down with your right hand, rubbing your swollen hard clit.

“No.” Suguru grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from your clit, gently placing it back on his shoulder. “I got you.” His hand rubbed those circles you were craving over your sensitive bud.

“S-Suguru—haaah nnngh fuck! Fuck me!”

“Fuck you feel so fucking good—Princess, fuck, you're so tight, be a good girl and cum on me, cum on my cock—!!"

Your back arched off the mattress as you came. For the second time in your life, you squirted, only this time, it was all over his cock. This, by far, was the strongest orgasm you had ever had, and it ripped through your entire soul. Your walls clenched and hugged around Suguru, making him throb in return. Watching you was all it took to have him moaning, groaning, and whimpering as he came into the condom.

"Princess!!"

A string of your name left his mouth as he continued pushing inside of you. Fucking the tip of his cock firmly against your cervix as both of you kissed each other urgently. Nails digging into skin, fingers rubbing sensitive spots faster as your bodies rutted against each other.

After what seemed like an eternity of pleasurable waves, you whined as you rode out the last trembling waves of your orgasm. "Nnngh." You relaxed against the mattress as your nails stopped digging into Suguru’s back, opting to rub up and down his toned muscles gently.

Suguru hummed softly, slowly pulling back to stare down at you for a moment. Pushing stray strands of your hair out of your face. "Feeling okay?" He whispered as he slowly pulled out of you, taking care of the condom and tossing it in the trash.

"I feel," you looked, meeting Suguru’s watchful eyes. “Great, it didn’t hurt at all.”

There was a certain sense of pride in your words that had Suguru pulling you into his arms to snuggle you to his chest. He was so fucking happy; he just lay there breathing long, deep breaths as he brushed his fingers through your hair. "Yeah? Good, I'm glad it didn’t hurt. All I want is for you to feel nothing but pleasure. Are you sure you’re okay?" You buried your face into his chest, draping your arm over his chest, before turning to look at the palm of your hand.

“I guess I just thought I would feel different.”

“Different, how?”

"I don't know, to change inside and out." You whispered, glancing up towards his face. "Like I would finally be a woman or something.”

Suguru grinned, pressing his lips against yours with a gentle kiss. “Yeah? Are you disappointed that you don’t feel different?” He watched as you gently propped your chin on his chest, your cheeks flushed as you shyly smiled.

“No, because something even better happened than changing inside and out.”

“Oh yeah, and what is that?”

“I got to fall deeper in love with you.” You felt Suguru’s breath hitch as his eyes widened, focusing on your pretty face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Suguru kissed you harder, pulling you tighter against his body before he broke the kiss. “Be mine, please.”

You flushed as he gently stroked your cheek with his hand. “Yours?” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“My girlfriend, please, Princess; I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone but you, Suguru. Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Your boyfriend could have jumped over the moon. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you, thank you.” More kisses were planted over your cheeks before finally meeting your lips. “Do me a favor and just stay here for a second. I'm going to get you some water and a warm rag.”

Suguru did exactly as he promised, putting on a movie in the background as he gently wiped you clean with a warm rag. He insisted you drink plenty of water, filling up your bottle twice before he crawled back in bed with you. As you lay in bed, Siguru gently massaged your shoulders and thighs, easing the burning ache that was starting to settle in them. He was so gentle with you, making you feel as loved if not more, the hours after you had sex, proving to be the perfect boyfriend.

Your relationship with the new title, boyfriend, and girlfriend didn't change much. Aside from the sex, the quiet ‘I love you’ whispered in passing, and the subtle displays of PDA in public, nothing changed. Instead, your friendship seemed to grow stronger. Full of more laughter and love, something both of you had longed before for so long.

Two weeks passed, and you both had been in Okinawa for a month before you knew it. Your days were spent transcribing, working on rewrites, and talking to Nanami and Utahime over the phone while you sat in the aquarium with Suguru as he worked. It was a month full of changes, healing, and love. Coming to Okinawa with you was the best decision Suguru ever made.

The pain of what happened to Riko was still there and would always linger, but with each passing day, Suguru felt his heart and soul heal a little more. That was all thanks to you. With due time, the throbbing stabbing pain would hurt more like a pinch to the skin. As long as you stood by his side, Suguru knew he would get through it.

He put his whole heart into the mural he painted, going above and beyond what he had initially done on canvas. He put so much detail into Riko, the fish, and his friends, whom he hadn’t seen for a month. But his favorite part of the painting was the subtle change he had made to you both. He had painted you holding hands, a simple fix that made his heart swell each time he saw it. A change that both of you loved.

While Suguru’s painting looked terrific, your writing improved tremendously! Nanami had nothing but good things to say about your intimate scenes and how your characters had grown with you. He was sure the next book you worked on would top the first one, leaving you feeling as good as your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

God, you couldn’t get over that your best friend for years had become your boyfriend! Every time you would steal him while he would move his paintbrush against the wall, you’d giggle, hiding your face in your hands, your boyfriend painted. Being with him in Okinawa was the best choice you made, even though you had to make a sacrifice for it. If you were allowed to redo this all over again, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing about it.

After a long, hard day of panting and cleaning up details, Suguru stepped down from the ladder and grinned at the scene with Riko. All the base colors were done on this wall; he just had to add the rest to the other half, and then he could start adding details, followed by shading and highlights. As he admired his work, Suguru felt your arms snake around him as you smothered your face into his back.

“It looks great, baby,” your whisper was almost smothered by how deep your face was in his back. “Good work today.”

“Mmm, thanks, Princess. Only three months to go, but if I keep up the pace, I might get done sooner than that.”

“Well, no matter how long it takes, I’ll be beside you.”

You pulled away only to receive a kiss to the temple. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You were yourself.” You answered without hesitation, smiling wide as Suguru ruffled the top of your head.

“You flatter me; I love you—” Before Suguru could kiss you, he stepped forward, knocking over a paint can. “Shit!” Suguru quickly grabbed some towels he kept around wiping it up. “Baby, could you g—?”

“On it!”

You were already running out of the sealed-off area, rushing to the bathroom to grab some damp and dry paper towels. Suguru watched you leave, grinning as he quickly cleaned up as much paint as he could. While he did his best not to smear the teal paint more, your phone on the table you worked at started buzzing.

Suguru groaned, abandoning his messy cleanup and wiping his hands on his shirt before looking to see Utahime’s name on your screen; he knew you had been waiting for her call to let you know if she got your next chapter approved, so he answered the phone. Holding it between his ear and shoulder, he hurried back to his mess.

“Hey Utahime, my girlfriend stepped away, what’s up?”

He chuckled at the sigh that came through the phone receiver. “Could you refer to each other by your first names like normal people? Would that be too much to ask?” Suguru tossed a few dirty towels in the bucket next to him, full of empty paint tubes.

“Yes, that is asking for way too much.”

“Whatever!” Utahime barked before huffing out in annoyance. “Look, can you tell my client that I need her to email me the letter of denial for the cottage? She was supposed to send it yesterday.”

Before the beautiful memories of last night that involved lots of shower sex could cloud Suguru’s mind, he repeated Utahime’s words to himself. “Letter of denial? Why? I thought she was waiting to see if she even got accepted or could stay for a few months rather than two years.”

“Yeah, well, the owners only do a two-year lease. They had been holding off on rebooking the cottage for your girlfriend since she had shown interest in it, and they were repairing the roof.” Papers rustled in the background. “But now that the roof is fixed, she only has until the end of the month to sign all the papers for her stay.” The end of the month was tomorrow. “But since she decided to go to Okinawa, she must send in the denial letter. That way, they can lease it to this other couple that is interested.”

Suguru’s mouth felt dry as he sat back on his knees. “Wait, what?” Sensing the shock in his voice, Utahime blinked.

“She declined the offer and went to Okinawa with you.”

So many thoughts flowed in Suguru’s mind as he put the puzzle pieces together. That’s why you were so upset on that first day here, distant and off. You had given up on one of your dreams to help him. It was a complete and utterly unselfish thing for you to do for him.

Suguru loved you so incredibly much that he knew what to do.

“Geto, are you there?”

“Uh yeah! Sorry, hey, about that denial letter, she actually—.”

Ten minutes later, you returned with a bucket and fresh towels. You were praying the pain hadn’t settled into the floor yet; you hadn’t anticipated it would take you this long to get the materials your boyfriend needed to clean up. But the custodian you had run into was nice enough to help you retrieve some towels and cleaning products you could use.

“Sorry it took so long, babe! I told one of the staff members what happened, and they just got me some towels!

You watched as Suguru hung up your phone, placing it back on your table. “Oh, no worries; I got a lot of it up, so cleaning the rest won’t be that big of a deal.” Suguru watched as you dropped to your knees and started wiping up the remaining paint streaks, taking your happy, smiling face in and saving it to his memory because he’d need to remember you like this.

“Say after this, let me take you shopping for some clothes. Maybe a new laptop and stuff.”

“Huh? But why? My laptop is doing okay.”

“Because I want to spoil my girlfriend for a bit.”

Without hesitation or arguments, you let your boyfriend take you to the store and get you some new clothes, more suitcases, and snacks. You thought he wanted to spend a weekend with you, like a movie marathon, on the beach, where you both lazily stared off into the horizon. While you fantasized about the weekend to come in the warm, sunny Okinawa, Suguru’s stomach was twisted in knots.

The whole helping-you with your book agreement started because he didn’t want to lose you. How could he not be with you for two years? When he hadn’t even told you how he felt. But now that you were his girlfriend seeing how devastated you were over the prospect of losing the cottage that inspired you and knowing that you had sacrificed to help him made him realize how selfish he had been. Suguru didn’t want to be the one holding you back. He didn’t want you giving up on your dreams because you were more concerned about him and his happiness. You deserved to see the place that had inspired your book series in person. He couldn’t deny you that right.

So, as you both headed out of the aquarium, bags in hand while your fingers were intertwined, Suguru took a second to look at your face; your eyes wandered over the aquarium tanks, admiring fishes and whales like you every night when leaving. Your happy smile, the way you occasionally steal glances at him, and how you held his hand as tight as you could as you walked out to head back home. Suguru needed to savor every second of this evening with you.

In the morning, Suguru was going to watch you leave for Europe.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 9

Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: angsty SMUT (MDNI), some fluff, domestic Russell deserves a warning, VW Beetle-shaming (yep, it’s real)

A/N: Hey, loves. I know I've been pretty absent here, and just a little fyi; my lack of responses aren't coming from a place of ignorance. I’ve been grappling with my mental health for a while now, and right now, I'm at the bottom of the rollercoaster. But don’t worry, I’m working my way back up, just like any sane person would do: with dying my hair red. No, seriously. I’m writing this with red dye in my hair. Alright, jokes aside, I really am getting there, bit by bit. Also, I'll get to reply to everyone eventually. Thank you for your patience, ily all!! 🤍����

A/N 2.0: Oh, btw, we’re here, folks! Jumping (almost) straight into the smut. Hope you’re ready to enjoy every steamy minute of it – because trust me, it’s a bit on the longer side. Enjoy! 😏

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 8 here

Tuesday's Gone masterlist

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The morning sun beamed in through the living room curtains, casting long stripes of light on the floor carpet as you stood, nervously drumming with your leg. It was Emma’s first day back at kindergarten since the whole kidnapping ordeal – an event you now refer to simply as “the Rourke incident.” You weren’t entirely sure she was ready, but her psychiatrist, who’d been meeting with her twice a week, had insisted it was best to get her back to normal life as soon as possible.

Two months. That’s how long it had been since everything went sideways, and since Russell had worked his way back into your life. Healing had been slow, but definitely steady.

“Come on!” Russell’s irritated voice cut through the quiet. He was out in the yard, wrestling with your car, which had apparently chosen today to stage a rebellion by refusing to start. Emma, already anxious about facing her mates again after so much time away, didn’t need this kind of drama. Neither did you, to be frank.

You glanced down at yourself for the hundredth time, brushing nonexistent lint off your blazer. It had been ages since you’d worn anything like this – at least it felt like it. The kind of outfit that screamed Yes, I’m totally put together, even if you weren’t quite there yet. 

Your first day back at work as a project manager after everything. Two months of juggling nightmares, therapy appointments, and figuring out how to co-parent with Russell, who, by the way, had unofficially moved into your house, claiming the couch,  meaning, he ditched whatever motel he was residing in before. To be fair, you were the one to offer it to him. He was practically living here 24/7 anyway.

At least this wasn’t a real workday, not yet. Just a soft launch. Your boss, who’d been more than understanding (hard not to be when your life-or-death situation made the news), suggested you start with half-days for the next two weeks. A gentle easing back into the chaos, he called it.

You called it a godsend and said yes before he could change his mind.

Today wasn’t about deadlines or meetings. It was about relearning what normal was supposed to feel like. 

And this morning was serving up all the normal it could muster.

“Is it ready yet?” you called through the open window, your tone between hopeful and pleading.

Russell stood up from under the hood, wiping his hands on a rag that must have been white once. A streak of grease marked his jaw.

“Almost there” he muttered. “Damn thing’s stubborn as a mule.”

“Stubborn like its mechanic” you quipped, earning yourself a mock glare. He ducked back under the hood, muttering something you didn’t catch but hearing the faint chuckle at the end.

Emma darted into the living room, her ridicolously huge backpack bouncing on her shoulders.

“Are we going to be late?” she asked and you could hear the worry in her voice.

“Nope, Daddy’s got it handled” you said, channeling every ounce of fake confidence you had. 

Truthfully, you didn’t want to be late either.

“Alright” Russell called, slamming the hood shut. “She’s good to go.”

He shot you a thumbs-up before opening the driver’s door and sliding in to test the ignition. The engine roared to life and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“See? Told you” you said to Emma, giving her a quick hug before letting her scramble into the backseat. You followed suit, sliding into the front passenger seat.

“I still don’t get why we couldn’t just take my car” he said, nodding toward his Chevy parked smugly beside your Beetle. “And honestly, I look ridiculous in this chick-jalopy.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offence.

“First of all, it’s not a chick-jalopy. It’s reliable, it’s efficient, and Emma loves it. Also, it’s cute,” you said, punctuating your point by wiping the grease off his jaw with a tissue.

“Cute, my a–”

He caught himself just in time.

Emma groaned dramatically from the back. “Can we please go? I don’t wanna be late!”

“Alright, boss lady. Bubble Buggy, away!” Russell declared, throwing the car into gear and earning a playful glare from you.

And with that, your little circus hit the road.

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The drop-off went surprisingly well. Emma, clutching her Veterinarian Barbie, marched into the classroom with a nervous determination that made your chest swell with pride. Russell had insisted on coming along, too – not that you were surprised. He’d been a constant in her life these past couple of months, and Emma seemed to soak up his presence like a little sunflower.

As the three of you walked toward the building, you bent down and pulled her into a quick hug, whispering a few last words of encouragement. She nodded solemnly, then turned and practically cannonballed into Russell’s arms. 

Watching her cling to him so naturally still took you by surprise.

You never doubted she’d warm up to him – he was her dad, after all. A figure she always asked about, a figure she always wanted. But the way Russell stepped into the role, like he’d been waiting his whole life for this chance? That was something you hadn’t expected. The man who once seemed allergic to responsibility was now the same man who played Barbies, kissed Emma’s scraped knees better, and read her bedtime stories in silly voices that always made her giggle. He didn’t let her leave the house without one of his big bear hugs, and she never wanted to. It was a version of Russell you hadn’t dared to imagine… but here he was, proving you wrong every damn day.

She lingered in his arms for just a second longer, her hands clutching at his shirt.  

“You’re gonna crush it, bug” he murmured, his voice soft.

With a reluctant nod, she finally let go, her sense of duty overriding her nerves. She turned and headed inside, her tiny figure disappearing into the colorful chaos of the kindergarten room. 

You and Russell stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching her find her seat. She looked so small, dwarfed by the bright kiddy decorations and the chatter of her mates.

But before you could get too worried, her friends appeared like little magnets, pulling her into a circle of excited hugs. You saw her freeze for half a second, clearly not expecting the ambush, but then she smiled. That big, glowing smile that could light up a whole city block.

“She’s tougher than we give her credit for” Russell said, a touch of pride in his voice.

“She gets it from me” you teased lightly, though your throat tightened as you said it. You yourself didn’t quite believe it.

He chuckled with a warm and familiar sound. “Yeah, that tracks.” 

His hand brushed yours as you both turned to leave, and you didn’t pull away. 

“Come on” he said with a lopsided grin, tilting his head toward the exit. “I’ve got one more girl to drop off.” 

He took your hand in yours and guided you back toward your “Tiara Taxi”. You wondered how many goddamn names he could come up with for that poor car.

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By the time you got home, the house felt… off. Too quiet, to be more precise. You weren’t used to not hearing Emma’s chatter bouncing off the walls.

Kicking off your heels by the door, you loosened your blazer and rolled your shoulders, trying to shake off the weight of the day. The tension melted a little when you spotted Russell in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. He was freshly showered, his hair still slightly damp, wearing jeans and that old Cream T-shirt, the one he wore the day you met him at the diner you used to work at. It had more holes than fabric now, but somehow it made him look maddeningly hot.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

“It was… bearable” you said, reaching for the coffee pot. “Everyone at work looked at me like I was a ghost. Honestly, I felt like one. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure Emma handled her first day better than I handled mine.”

Pouring yourself a cup, you moved to stand beside him, close enough to share the space but not enough to touch. 

“Thanks for fixing the car this morning” you said, giving him a quick sidelong glance. “I can’t even imagine the meltdown we’d have had if we’d been late.”

He grinned, his eyes staying on you a beat too long, despite the teasing tone in his voice. 

“I’ll fix that Cupcake Cruiser anytime.”

And there it was again – that unspoken something that had been simmering between you two for weeks. It filled the space between every casual brush of your arms, every shared smirk. Ever since that kiss, the tension had been building, stopping only at the occasional soft kisses, lingering touches, or the way his hand would find yours without a word.

You weren’t imagining it, and you definitely weren’t immune to it. If anything, it was getting harder to pretend it wasn’t there.

“I should change” you said, your voice a little shaky as you pointed vaguely at your blazer, like that was the problem.

“You look good” he blurted out, almost before he realized it. His ears went red, but he didn’t backpedal. “I mean… you always look good, but this… this is…” His gaze slid over you like he was taking in a masterpiece, and your pulse picked up in response.

“Russ…” you started, but he took a step closer. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him like a furnace.

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line” he murmured, his voice rougher than usual, like it took everything he had to keep it calm.

“You’re not” you whispered.

That was all the permission he needed. His hands slid around your waist, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, he closed the gap between you, kissing you like a madman. It was urgent, messy, and desperate, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were or what you were supposed to be doing. 

It was frantic and just so different from the soft kisses before.

His hands slid up your back, pulling you as close as your bodies physically allowed and you found yourself clutching at his tee like you might fall if you didn’t hold on. Your coffee, long forgotten, sat cold on the counter behind you, watching the scene unfold silently.

He pulled away just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath coming in ragged gasps. His highly delirious eyes searched yours, silently asking if you felt it too, the same thing pulsing between you two.

You did. 

You felt it in your bones, and it was undeniable.

Without a word, he kissed you again, but this time, slower, more like he had all the time in the world. He took his sweet time, as if he needed to rediscover every inch of you, like he’d forgotten and now had to make up for lost time. His hands drifted to your waist, your back, tangled in your hair, touching you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. 

And for him, you kind of were.

Before you knew it, you were in the bedroom, your blazer tossed somewhere on the floor along with his t-shirt. The rest of your clothes followed in a blur of fumbling hands and breathless laughter, the weight of the past two months – and the years before that – melting away with every touch.

When he finally had you beneath him, his gaze softened, the intensity giving way to something deeper. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your hands cupping his face. “I’m sure.”

He looked down at you, his long hair brushing your face as you pulled him closer, bringing his lips to yours again. This time, the kiss was a promise: one that said you were sure, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, now your barely clothed heat just two thin fabrics away from the place where it wants to be – given you both were only in your underwear by then.

He groaned in response, his hands gripping your thighs, stopping you from rubbing yourself against his erection. 

“I’ll cream in my boxers if you keep this up.”

You giggled and popped yourself on your elbows. “I’d rather have you cream somewhere else” you said with a mischievous grin.

His laughter was sudden and rich, the kind that came straight from his chest. It was a sound of pure joy and disbelief. 

So she’s still freaky, he mentally remarked in delight. 

“God, I love you” he murmured, the words spilling out before he even realized he’d said them. He didn’t pause to dwell on his unplanned confession – he kissed you once more, but this time his hand slid to the back of your bra. It took a few clumsy tries, but when it finally gave way, he pushed the lace off your shoulders, letting it fall somewhere forgotten at the edge of the bed. 

He pulled away from your lips, taking a moment to admire the view of your perky breasts, the cool air from the AC making your nipples harden from the breeze. 

Perfect, just like he remembered. 

Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing soft kisses along the valley of your chest before suckling each nipple, his hand gently massaging the other. The warm, teasing pressure of his mouth sent a shiver through you, drawing out a chorus of soft moans, going straight into his now desperately hard cock, unconsciously rubbing it against the sheets.

Once his mouth had given one of your nipples the attention it deserved, he moved to the other, murmuring, “So soft.” 

As your fingers brushed over familiar lines and curves, memories came rushing back like you’d just pressed play on a reel. Your palms glided over his firm chest and carved torso, stopping at the edge of his waistband. The fabric clung to his hips, daring you to go further. 

It was surprisingly easy to recollect your memories about the details of him – you could still map the old scars you knew by heart (though there were new ones now), the freckles on his shoulder and chest, the little imperfections of his body you used to love all those years ago. 

You seemed even more fascinated by them now.

Soft grunts and groans slipped from his lips as he felt your hands slip into his underwear. The hardness of his dick against your palm sent a rush of wildfire through your veins, feeling how much he still wanted you. 

Needed you, really.

But he grabbed your hand, stopping its slow movements over his member. 

“Not yet” he murmured, and though it took all his willpower, he pulled your hands out of his underwear, just to lift his head from your chest to start a slow, deliberate trail of wet kisses down your torso. Each kiss felt like a secret he was telling only your skin, moving lower and lower, until he reached the curve of your abdomen.

He paused there, pressing his lips to the spot where your lace panties met your silky skin.

His hands slid down to your hips, his thumbs tracing slow circles over the delicate lace. He glanced up at you, his green eyes still searching for reassurance that you were still on-board with all of this. 

You absolutely were.

When the lace finally hit the floor and joined the growing heap of clothes, he didn’t dive right in. Instead, he paused to just look at you, his gaze so intense it made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at once. He was looking at you like you were something sacred.

You couldn’t help it, your mind wandered. Your body wasn’t the same as it had been four years ago, not after the pregnancy. And even though you tried to push the thought away, a flicker of self-doubt crept in. Would he notice? Would it matter?

“God, you’re beautiful” he mumbled, as if reading your mind, before leaning in to press his lips against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” he added, and the sincerity in his voice sent a flush straight to your weeping pussy, soaking the sheets beneath you. He noticed, loving the effect he had on you. And the best part is: he meant every word. “Nobody compares… nobody.”

His hands stayed firm on your hips, holding you steady as he left a trail of kisses that edged closer and closer to your slick center.

Toe-curlingly teasing.

“Fuck– Russ” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips finally found the spot where you were aching for him most. 

His tongue danced around your folds, barely using any pressure at first, licking long stripes just to drive you even wilder. He kept up the slow, teasing pace, looking up at your soft features, until he was sure he’d made you wait long enough. His hands gripped your bent legs, holding you in place, making sure you weren’t going anywhere – not like going away crossed your mind. 

“You taste so sweet, baby. Just like I remembered” he murmured, lapping lustfully at your lips.

Your needy, swollen clit ached for his mouth, his touch, anything, really, and it’s just like he heard its plea, he guided his lips to your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking on it gently. The moan that slipped from your lips was louder than you meant it to be, but Russell didn’t seem to care. In fact, if his smirk was anything to go by, he seemed to love it, and just felt even more encouraged to be more and more daring. Bolder. Hungrier. 

He devoured you like you were the finest meal he’d ever had, like he’d been starving for years and you were the only thing that could satisfy him.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, your body trembling on the precipice, he looked up at you, his face was flushed, his swollen lips and trimmed stubble glistening with your essence, looking absolutely, insanely, unbelievably hot.

"Come on, sweetheart" he murmured against your skin with a voice both rough and encouraging, like he needed this just as much as you did. "Be a good girl and let go f’me."

To help you get over the edge, he slipped one finger inside of you, plunging it in and out of your sloppy hole at a delicious pace. 

And just like that, with one final, perfectly timed and placed flick of his tongue, you came undone. Your whole body went taut, and the world blurred for a moment as a white-hot wave of bliss crashed over you and you came over his face. You didn’t have any time to overthink it, be embarrassed about it, since he didn’t stop lapping at your juices, nor the vigorous fingering of your pussy. 

He continued until you had nothing more to give, easing you back down with gentle kisses and slowly decreasing strokes. With his tongue still on your sensitive lips, you slowly floated back to reality.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, he was hovering above you. 

You could see his expression was somewhere between boyish pride and unshakable devotion.

“Still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your damp forehead. “I love seeing you coming undone because of me.”

You were still catching your breath, panting heavily, but you managed to kneel on the bed in front of him. “Let me…”

“No” His hands gently brushed yours away from his waistband, and for a moment, your heart sank. 

Did he change his mind? Or worse – did he not want you to please him the way he’d just please you?

Sensing the hurricane of self-doubt flicker across your face, he leaned in with a soft, reassuring smile. “I want this to be about you. Last time… we didn’t exactly finish properly because–”

His words trailed off, but you both knew what he meant. Your last time together more than four years ago…. when that man broke into your home. The gunshot. The way you’d panicked and pushed him away afterward. It was a night neither of you could forget, no matter how much you tried.

“I just… want to make it up to you” he confessed. “For that night. For everything after.”

You felt the weight of his words, the sincerity in his eyes, and the softness in his touch. It wasn’t just about physical pleasure – it was about the things left unsaid, the things neither of you had been able to fix in the aftermath.

You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as your eyes locked. 

“You don’t have to make anything up” you said softly, your words brushing against his lips. “You’re here now. You showed up when it mattered. That’s enough.” 

You kissed him, slow and sure, letting him feel every bit of what you meant. The taste of yourself on his lips just fueled the intensity of the moment. Your hands slid back to his boxers, giving the waistband a playful tug. “Now…” you said with a small smirk “let’s get rid of these before I lose my patience.”

He smiled, swallowing a chuckle, before helping you with the rest. His cock sprang free, standing tall and proud against his stomach. The girth and the delicious pattern of veins still managed to take your breath away. 

You could still remember how he felt, how he tasted… 

As his underwear hit the floor, you both knelt on the bed, your eyes locked before flicking down to his pre-cum-soaked erection. 

“Jesus fuck” you exhaled, mouth watering, your hands skimming his waist, summoning the courage to take what you needed. 

You wrapped your hand around the base, his member instantly reacting to your touch, accompanied by another strangled moan from his lips. He let you stroke him a little, his breath hitching, before he managed to ask, “Are you still on birth control?”

You froze mid-motion, caught off guard. 

“Uh, no” you admitted. “Didn’t exactly work out last time, did it?” you added with a wry smile. It stung a little to say, but it was true. And honestly, you wouldn’t change a thing – not when it meant having Emma.

Russell caught the flicker of bittersweetness in your eyes, his own softening as he started to say, “I’ve got a–“

“Bottom drawer, right side” you cut him off with a smirk, tilting your head toward the nightstand.

A laugh rumbled in his chest as he leaned back, grabbing what he needed. 

“You really are always two steps ahead, huh?” he teased, his grin widening as he slipped on the condom.

He was hovering above you, eyes locked, and yet somehow it felt like he was on the other side of the planet. 

“Are you… really, absolutely sure?” he asked, his voice a mix of doubt and desperation.

You couldn’t help but giggle again. “Stop asking, Russ. Stop second-guessing yourself.”

He smiled softly at your words and guided himself towards your slick core, the tip already nudging at your entrance. He looked down at you, giving you one last chance to back off before he let himself give in to the desire that’s been building up in him for months now. 

You nodded softly, granting him any permission he’d ever asked for. He took a shaky breath, bracing himself for what was about to come. 

Then, he eased himself in.

The intrusion was both foreign and familiar at first. He was only half-way in, but he already felt you getting tighter and tighter. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll go slow” he murmured as he soothed your skin on your thighs.

The slick from your previous orgasm helped him bottom out slowly but surely, and once he was fully seated, he let out a long, throaty moan. He stilled for a moment, eyes shut, grabbing into your bent thighs to steady himself.

“Missed you s’much… missed this…” he whispered. “Thought I’d never–“ 

The words died on his lips.

The rawness of his voice, the desperation, the way he said those words with so much honesty and regret, clutched your heart. You knew he meant it, you knew how much he had been hurting – just like you. But you also couldn't help but feel just as guilty. Most of his pain was caused by you, the way you handled things, the way you’d pushed him away when things got tough, the way you’d shut him out… It was all your doing, just as much as it was his.

Not being able to take the weight of it, you gently cupped his face, guiding him back to look at you.

You looked at him like you were about to say something that weighed on your shoulders for long, something that’ll change everything between the both of you. He sensed it, green irises burning into yours, waiting.

“I love you, too, Russ” you whispered, voice tight with emotion, afraid he might not have heard you right by the look on his face. “I love you” you repeated, louder this time, as if to make sure it was clear, and by the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you, he heard it loud and perfectly clear. 

“And I missed you, too”  you added.

That was it. That was all he needed to hear. His hips began to move as his lips elicited soft grunts and moans, his hands still holding on to your thighs, bruisingly tight. 

“God, sweetheart. Say it–” he grunted, burying himself inside of you, his tip brushing against your deepest parts. “Say it again.” 

“I love you, Russell. I think I never really stopped.”

It did it to him. He dived into you like a man on a mission. The tenderness was still there, yet he gave way to something more primal, something almost bestial. 

Squelching, lewd noises and moans filled the otherwise quiet room. The pace he was setting wasn’t necessarily brutal, but the way he slammed into you with such precision was almost too perfect to handle.

Your otherwise sensitive bundle of nerves screamed as he slipped his thumb on them, applying just the right amount of pressure.

You could feel how close you were. Hell, he could feel how close you were. The way your walls tightened and how you could barely hold your moans were a pretty good indication of what was about to come. Literally.

“Fuck- Russ” you moaned as he began to increase the pace of his thrusts, his fingers still rubbing on your clit.

“I know…” he panted, “I know… I’m- I’m getting close, too. But I need to feel you comin’ around me, sweetheart. You can let go, baby.  Then I’ll fill you up good.”

His own voice was strangled, barely holding on, but the urge to make you reach it first was still stronger.

“Let go f’me, pretty girl” he instructed, rubbing your clit just a bit harder.

The coil finally snapped in your stomach, feeling a sensation you can’t quite remember when you had last. 

“There you go. Such a good girl. Such a perfect girl. God, how I love it when you do this” he moaned and felt his cock twitch buried deep in your velvety walls. He looked down at your joint bodies and saw his dick laced with your essence, forming a creamy ring at the base. The sight itself was the thing to push over the edge.

He came with a groan, burying himself inside of you, his thighs and body going taut while he tried not to collapse on top of you. His member was suffocating in the confines of the condom, his seed still loading the rubber.

He didn’t want to move. Neither did you. The only sound of the room was your tangled breaths and the intense pounding of your hearts. He let himself lower himself once his eyes dared to creak open, finding your eyes still busking in the afterglow.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough? Didn’t I—”

You cut him off with a gentle, breathless laugh, fingers brushing his chest as you tried to make sense of the way your heart was pounding, both from the intensity of the moment and the unexpected peace that followed it.

“Russ… I’m okay. Great, actually” You smiled, your voice soft.

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of relief flashing through his eyes, followed by that familiar teasing grin. “Huh… You got me worried a bit. I’ve got worried it was post-but clarity on your face.” 

“No post-nut clarity here. Just... clarity” 

He smiled softly at that, then slowly pulled out of you and removed the piece of plastic, tossing it into the bin.

For a moment, he just froze, unsure of what to do next. Would it be too much to hold you? Was that stepping into too much territory?

You gave him a sleepy, amused look. “Come on” you mumbled, your voice low and slightly hoarse. “You’ve just fucked the wind out of me. You think I’d kick you out of my bed afterward?”

He laughed, the tension easing out of his shoulders. "Fair point. I just… wasn’t sure if you’d want me to stay.”

You shifted a little, making space for him beside you, your gaze soft. “Of course I do”

And so, you both just lay there. The room was quiet, the only sound your breaths slowly syncing. The space between you felt right, like it had always belonged to both of you, and the warmth of his body next to yours felt oddly familiar. Like it had always been meant to be this way. 

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the rhythm of each other’s breath comforting. And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to just be. Because you wasted way too much time already, and you won’t make the same mistake twice.

So, it was just you, and it was just him, and the world felt right again.

This was home.

Then, your phone’s alarm went off, pulling you back to reality with an almost comical jolt. You groaned softly, smiling faintly at the disruption. You climbed out of bed, the soft tug of the sheets falling off your body as you rose. “Come on” you said with a small smile. “We have to pick up our daughter.”

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Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 10, aka the Epologue)

The building the dog was charging toward was a big, brick beauty, with towering windows and a brand-new sign hanging proudly above the door. It was the final product of an ongoing battle of bad brewery name ideas between you and Russell.

You’d pitched some real gems like Hop Notch Brewery, Sweet Foam Idaho, and Shawbusiness. You also reminded him of your previous, brilliant suggestions. You were obviously just having fun, knowing it was Russell’s dream project. 

“I’m just trying to help!” you exclaimed playfully. 

But still – Shawstopper was practically genius, right?

He, of course, was more into traditional names like Shaw & Co Brewery or Shawcraft. 

But then… you pitched the one name that made him crack. One that he absolutely hated. Hated it so much that, for some bizarre reason, he thought it was twistedly brilliant. So, here you were, standing beneath the freshly hung sign above the front door of…

“Shawshank Brewdemption” Emma read out loud, brows furrowed. “I don’t understand!”

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They’re home. It feels so good to finally say that. I can’t wait to share the last chapter with you all soon.

And of course, happy holidays to everyone!

xx Pam

Read Chapter 10 here

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[weast-of-eden]

I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present

Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:

(edit: i made a second list here!!)

The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.

Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.

A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!

The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend

Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)

Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue  1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!

A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart

The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)

anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!

[daeniradraconis]

All the Lines We Crossed - William Nylander and Auston Matthews

Summary: William Nylander and Auston Matthews meet a girl at a coffee shop—and things heat up as the three of them fall into a steamy, complicated relationship. (Yep, it's a three-way connection.)

Author’s Note: Okay, here it is, folks. Took me long enough, but I’m seriously obsessed with these two. Like, I’d probably sell a kidney just to see them in real life—so you can imagine how much I love writing about them. Buckle up, because once things start heating up, it’s gonna get smuttyyyy. And just so you know, this is only the beginning. Part 2 is coming your way soon. 

Warning: +18, threesome!!, Contains explicit gay and straight intimacy, smut, and a growing polyamorous relationship. No hate allowed—if it’s not your thing, just keep moving. Part 2

Nora’s morning was already off to a chaotic start when she stepped into the cozy café around the corner from her apartment. The sharp aroma of espresso filled the air, mingling with the chatter of patrons and the soft hum of acoustic music playing overhead. She had a tray of four steaming coffees balanced precariously in one hand and her phone in the other, frantically checking the time.

Her meeting was in twenty minutes. She was late. And, of course, the universe had chosen today to test her patience.

She pushed through the crowded café, barely glancing up as she made her way toward the door. Then it happened. One second she was walking, the next she collided with something—no, someone. A very solid someone. The tray tilted in her hand, and before she could steady it, two of the cups tumbled forward, their lids popping off mid-air.

The coffee arced through the air, a molten streak of brown that splattered across the gray sweatshirt of the man in front of her. Nora froze, the world narrowing to the spreading stain and the sharp gasp of the stranger. “Oh my god!” she blurted, spinning toward the counter and grabbing napkins in a blur.

“I am so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t see you, I…” She trailed off as she finally looked up.

The man was tall, with broad shoulders that filled out the now coffee-stained sweatshirt. His dark eyes held a glimmer of surprise, and his lips quirked into a lopsided grin as he looked down at her. There was something understated in his expression, a calmness that felt disarming.

“You good?” he asked, his deep voice laced with amusement. He was already reaching for the napkins she offered, brushing at the wet fabric.

Before she could respond, another voice joined the scene. “Smooth move, Auston.”

Nora turned to see a second man approaching, blonde and blue-eyed, with a sharp jawline and a smile so effortlessly charming it made her forget, for a moment, that she was in the middle of a caffeine disaster. He clapped the first man on the shoulder, laughing.

“You ran into her, mate,” the blonde said, grabbing a napkin himself and turning to Nora. “Let me guess, he wasn’t paying attention again?”

“You’re one to talk. You are the clumsiest person I’ve ever known.” Auston shot back, but his tone was light, and he rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. No harm done.”

Nora’s cheeks burned as she tried to process what was happening. She felt like she’d been thrust into the middle of some inside joke she wasn’t privy to. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her voice softer now. “I… I’ll pay for the dry cleaning, or a new sweatshirt, or…”

The blonde waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. Auston needed a new one anyway. Didn’t you, buddy?”

Auston’s smirk deepened, and he shrugged. “Guess so.”

“I’m Nora,” she offered awkwardly, extending a hand.

“William,” the blonde said, shaking her hand warmly. Then he nodded toward Auston. “And this is Auston.”

“Hi,” Auston said simply, his tone as understated as the smile he gave her.

—

Later that afternoon, Auston and William sat in their shared apartment, both distracted in their own ways. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, but William wasn’t one to let silence linger for too long.

“She was cute,” he said casually, tossing a tennis ball into the air and catching it with ease, though his eyes were fixed on Auston, watching him closely.

Auston didn’t look up from his phone, his fingers scrolling absentmindedly across the screen. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone unreadable.

“No, I mean, really cute,” William pressed, his grin growing as he leaned forward. “And, honestly, kinda funny. Did you see how flustered she got? You’re telling me you didn’t notice?”

Auston’s fingers stilled, and for a brief second, his gaze flickered to William. There was something there—something just beneath the surface of his usual stoicism. He didn’t respond right away, the tension between them coiling tighter with each passing second.

William’s smirk deepened. “I think you noticed,” he said quietly, his voice low, almost teasing. He leaned in just a bit closer, his eyes intense, like he was searching for something in Auston’s expression. “I think you liked her.”

Auston finally put his phone down, exhaling a slow breath. His gaze remained on the floor for a moment, his jaw clenched, as if trying to hold something back. When he looked up again, their eyes locked—no teasing, no masks, just a raw, unfiltered moment.

“She’s… interesting,” Auston said, his voice quieter now, almost like he was admitting something to himself more than to William.

William was quiet for a beat, his grin fading into something more serious. He didn’t break their gaze. “Interesting?” he repeated, his tone almost daring him to go further.

Auston’s chest tightened, a mix of frustration and something else—something deeper—rising within him. “Yeah,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Interesting.”

William moved closer, so close now that Auston could feel the warmth of his presence, the undeniable pull between them. “You know what’s interesting?” William said, his voice low and thick, the air between them charged. “You’ve never been this quiet about anyone before. What’s going on, Auston?”

Auston’s heart pounded. His usual cool was slipping, unraveling beneath the weight of William’s words and proximity. His mouth went dry, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Nothing’s going on,” he said, but the lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

William’s grin returned, but it was sharper this time, more predatory. He was so close now, their legs almost touching. “If you say so,” he murmured, his voice carrying an unspoken challenge.

For a moment, Auston’s breath hitched. There was something else in the room now—a tension that had nothing to do with Nora and everything to do with them. William’s presence was overwhelming, his every movement pulling Auston in deeper, closer to the edge.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” William added, his words a low, teasing murmur. “Not even yourself.”

Auston’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t deny the truth in William’s words. The air between them crackled. For a heartbeat, everything went still. Auston could feel the pull, the weight of the moment, the unsaid things suddenly spilling out into the space between them.

“It’s already complicated,” Auston finally whispered, his voice thick, as if the words were a confession.

William’s grin turned darker, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a smirk. “I think you like complicated things.”

Auston didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The words lingered between them, unspoken yet undeniably understood. Neither of them moved, but the air felt heavier, charged with a passion.

Of course, he liked complicated things. He always had, especially when it was just for fun. That’s how he’d ended up falling for this idiotic, devilishly good-looking Swede. But being with him, sneaking around and hiding their relationship, was already enough chaos for one lifetime. He didn’t need more complications. He didn’t want more.

And yet, there was Nora. He’d only met her once, but she’d lodged herself in his mind, refusing to leave. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

William’s voice broke the silence again, this time softer, almost intimate. “Let’s just see where it goes, huh?”

Auston’s breath caught in his throat. He knew what that meant. They both did. And suddenly, the world outside of their apartment felt miles away.

“I don’t know,” Auston finally murmured, his voice fragile. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I want this, I do… but we can’t. You know we can’t.”

William’s gaze softened, sensing the fear beneath Auston’s words. He took a step closer, his hand gently reaching out to touch Auston’s arm. “Auston… we’ll figure it out. I promise we’ll figure it out.”

Auston’s chest tightened, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. “No one can know. The media—people will destroy us. The whole league, the fans, everything…” His voice trailed off, barely above a whisper, as though admitting it aloud would make it all too real.

William’s expression grew serious, but his touch remained steady as he gently cupped Auston’s face, tilting his chin to meet his gaze. “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering, filled with quiet conviction. “It’s you and me—that’s all that matters. As for Nora...” He paused, a small, thoughtful smile playing at his lips. “Maybe we’ll just be friends. Maybe it’ll be something more. Who knows? But don’t overthink kärlek.”

Auston looked at him, searching his eyes, and for the first time, he saw something there that wasn’t just heat. There was something deeper—something unwavering in William’s expression.

Before Auston could say anything more, William closed the distance between them in a single, swift motion, his lips crashing into Auston’s with an intensity that knocked the breath out of him. It wasn’t gentle; it was raw, urgent, a desperate need spilling out in the heat of the kiss.

Auston’s hands shot up, gripping William’s shirt, as if trying to steady himself, but William only pulled him closer, his other hand sliding into Auston’s hair, holding him firmly in place. The world outside disappeared—the noise, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it faded into nothing, leaving only the two of them in the moment, the air between them electric.

William pressed his forehead to Auston’s for a fleeting second, their breaths mingling as the tension built, thick and undeniable. He could feel Auston’s hesitation, the way he held himself so tightly, trying to stay in control, and it made something twist inside him. Slowly, deliberately, William leaned in, brushing his lips against Auston’s jaw, his breath warm against his skin.

“It’s okay,” William murmured, his voice low, soothing, filled with quiet certainty. “I’ve got you.”

Auston’s breathing hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip on William’s shirt tightened, his body giving into the pull of the moment. That was all the confirmation William needed.

He shifted, his lips trailing lower, teasing along Auston’s neck before moving back. Then, without breaking the connection, he sank down. It wasn’t the most graceful slide to his knees, but William didn’t care. The carpet was soft beneath him as he settled between Auston’s legs, his hands braced on Auston’s thighs.

William tugs at the waistband, pausing long enough for Auston to lift his hips, their eyes locking in a brief, shared understanding. He pulls the fabric down slowly, revealing Auston in all his glory—hard and flushed. It’s a sight William knows well, but even now, it sends a fresh wave of heat through him. Seeing Auston like this, exposed, with nothing between them, still stirs something deep within him.

He runs his fingers lightly along Auston’s length, watching as Auston’s eyes flutter shut and a shaky breath escapes his lips. “God, you’re impatient,” William teases softly, his lips quirking up in a grin.

“You’re the one taking your sweet time,” Auston shoots back, though his voice is rough, the words strained as he shifts against William’s touch.

“Good things are worth waiting for,” William murmurs before leaning in, his tongue darting out to trace the head of Auston’s dick. He relishes the way Auston inhales sharply, his body tense with need. William’s mouth waters as he takes him in, the weight of Auston’s dick heavy on his tongue.

Auston groans low in his throat, his hand reaching out to rest in William's blonde hair. He doesn't pull, just lets his fingers weave through the soft locks, the gentleness of the touch feeling at odds with the heat building between them. William hums around him, the vibration drawing a shuddered curse from Auston, and he takes him deeper, working his jaw to adjust to the stretch.

“Fuck, Willy,” Auston breathes, his voice thick, his fingers tightening in William’s hair. “You’re—Jesus, you’re too good at this.”

William’s cheeks flush at the praise, a thrill running down his spine as he quickens his rhythm. He uses his hand to stroke what he can’t fit, his movements messy and slick with spit, his other hand gripping Auston’s thigh to hold him steady. The sounds Auston makes—the groans, the gasps, the broken murmurs of William’s name—only spur him on, and he can feel Auston’s thighs trembling beneath his touch.

Auston’s breathing grows more ragged, his restraint slipping as his hips twitch forward. William doesn’t pull back; instead, he presses his arm against Auston’s hips, holding him in place as he takes him deeper, determined to push him over the edge.

“Shit, Will—” Auston gasps, his head tipping back as his fingers clutch at William’s hair. “I’m—God, I’m so close—”

That’s all the encouragement William needs. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue swirling, his cheeks hollowing, until Auston’s body goes taut, his thighs clenching as he comes with a hoarse cry. William swallows as much as he can, the taste of him sharp and intoxicating, though he pulls back slightly when it becomes too much, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits back on his heels.

Auston’s chest heaves as he stares down at William, his pupils blown wide, his skin flushed and damp with sweat. For a moment, neither of them says a word, the air between them still crackling with electricity. Then Auston leans forward, his hand slipping to William’s cheek, his thumb brushing over his flushed skin.

“Jesus,” Auston mutters, his voice low, rough, but filled with something warm, something real. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” William cuts him off softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I wanted to take care of you. You’ve been carrying so much... I just wanted to make it easier for you.”

Auston stares at him for a moment longer before he nods, his thumb brushing against William’s cheek once more before his hand drops away. “You’re dangerous, Nylander,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a crooked smile.

William grins back, his gaze steady and full of unspoken promise. “You’ve got no idea.”

—

Over the next few weeks, Nora found herself running into William and Auston more than she ever expected. At first, it felt like nothing more than coincidence—a casual encounter here, an unexpected meeting there. But soon, the chances of crossing paths became too frequent to ignore.

It all started innocently enough, a slow-building friendship. They’d hang out after practice or meet at the coffee shop they all frequented. William’s infectious energy was always a draw, his laughter filling the room and pulling Nora in with his easy charm. He was the type of person who could make her laugh no matter how her day had been, and she loved that about him.

He’d tease her playfully—especially about her coffee choices or the occasional overuse of her laptop—but it always came with that warm grin that made it impossible to be annoyed. There was something magnetic about his personality, and it didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously good-looking. His charisma was impossible to ignore, and every time they talked, it felt like the world was a little lighter.

Auston, on the other hand, was a different kind of presence. Where William was bright and loud, Auston had a quiet, understated strength that drew Nora in just as much. He wasn’t the type to seek attention, but when he did speak, every word seemed to carry weight. He had this calm that made her feel centered. Nora noticed how he observed her—the way his eyes lingered just a bit longer than necessary, as if he was silently taking her in, noticing the little things that made her... well, her. She liked that, liked how grounded he made her feel, even without saying much.

The three of them spent more time together, and what started as casual hangouts turned into something more. Nora wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe when they took her to the rink to teach her how to skate, laughing at her awkwardness but never once making her feel stupid. Or maybe it was the time they all went to the cinema together, enjoying a quiet evening of popcorn and movies, where the connection between them grew a little bit deeper.

Shopping trips became a regular thing too, though Nora couldn’t quite understand why Auston and William seemed so obsessed with getting her opinions on clothes. Both of them were fashion gurus—at least, they liked to think they were—always talking about trends and matching outfits with their ridiculous amounts of athletic sportswear. William was a bit of a princess when it came to fashion, and Auston wasn’t far behind, always asking her for advice as if she was some kind of expert. It made her laugh to see them bicker over what looked best on her, but it was in these moments she felt a deeper bond with both of them.

And then, there was the time they asked her to dog-sit while they were on the road for a few days due to a hockey trip. Their dog, had quickly become attached to her. Nora didn’t mind—she found it oddly comforting, taking care of them while they were away. It was a gesture that made her feel like part of their lives in a way that was hard to put into words.

It wasn’t long before their friendship started to shift. Their constant teasing turned into something more, more playful than before. William was the first to change the energy, teasing her with little compliments when they met, his eyes always glinting with that mischievous spark. He had a way of making her feel like she was the only one in the room, and when he smiled, it sent a warm flutter through her that she couldn’t ignore.

Auston, on the other hand, was quieter in his approach. His glances lingered longer, his attention seemingly sharper, as if he was paying extra close attention to her every move. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but it was undeniable—the way his gaze softened whenever they spoke, or the way his hand would brush hers “accidentally” but linger a little longer than necessary.

But even with the growing tension, the foundation of their friendship remained. They hung out, went to movies, grabbed coffee, and laughed together. It was the moments in between—the small touches, the lingering stares—that made it clear this was no longer just a friendship.

One afternoon, Nora was in her usual spot at the café, laptop open as she worked on a project. William was the first to show up, his confident stride unmistakable. He didn’t need to search the room for her; his eyes found hers immediately.

“Mind if I join?” he asked, his voice light and teasing as he slid into the seat across from her.

“Not at all,” Nora replied with a smile, feeling a small jolt of excitement at the idea of spending time with him.

Their conversation flowed easily, as always. William was good at making even the dullest of topics seem fun. He teased her once more about her ridiculously sweet coffee order, effortlessly keeping her laughing with his charm and quick wit. But as the conversation deepened, Nora couldn’t help but notice something more. His flirtations weren’t just playful anymore—they felt charged, like there was something deeper beneath them, something Nora couldn’t ignore.

Just as the shift in energy was starting to become undeniable, the door to the café opened, and in walked Auston. His presence quieted the room in a way William’s boisterous energy never could. He moved like he owned the space, calm and confident, his eyes immediately finding Nora’s.

“Still spilling coffee?” Auston teased, his smile soft but knowing.

Nora grinned, her cheeks warming as she replied, “Not today.”

With that, he slid into the booth, and the dynamic between the three of them shifted again. William’s playful energy filled the air, making Nora feel light and carefree, while Auston’s quiet, observant presence gave her a sense of calm. Their small touches, the glances exchanged, and the way they interacted with each other—it all added up to something more than just a friendship.

The more they spent time together, the clearer it became. Nora’s feelings were no longer confined to simple attraction. She was falling for them both, in different ways, and the line between casual friendship and something more was rapidly blurring. She could no longer ignore the electric tension, the way they looked at her, the way her body responded to their touch.

But it wasn’t just her feelings that had changed. There was something new between William and Auston as well. Their shared glances, subtle touches, and moments of quiet communication—it was as though they were both shifting, pulling Nora into something deeper.

The more time passed, the more Nora realized this wasn’t just a fling. It wasn’t something fleeting. What they were building was real. And as she sat there, surrounded by the laughter and warmth of William’s teasing and Auston’s steady gaze, she couldn’t help but wonder what would come next—because she had a feeling that what was unfolding between them was only the beginning.

—

Nora stretched her legs out on the couch, balancing a bowl of popcorn precariously on her knees. The apartment felt as familiar as her own, filled with the scent of Auston’s favorite cedarwood candle and the faint hum of a movie she’d seen a dozen times before. It was supposed to be one of their usual movie nights, but something was off. She could feel it.

Auston sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning forward like he couldn’t quite relax. He kept adjusting the popcorn bowl, even though it wasn’t in danger of tipping. William, usually the most laid-back of the three, was sitting unusually straight in the armchair, his icy blue eyes fixed on the screen but his focus clearly elsewhere.

“Okay,” Nora said finally, breaking the silence. “What’s up with you two? You’re being weird.”

Auston froze mid-reach for another piece of popcorn. William glanced at him, his lips twitching like he was about to speak but thought better of it. The unspoken exchange between them only deepened the knot of unease in Nora’s chest.

“What?” she pressed, sitting up straighter. “Is this a ‘bad news’ kind of talk? Because I swear, if you’re moving to another city or something—”

“No,” Auston cut in quickly, his voice tight. “Nothing like that. It’s just... we need to tell you something.”

Nora blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh, good. Because I wanted to talk to you guys, too.” She laughed nervously. “This might actually be perfect timing.”

Her words seemed to hang in the air, but neither of them took the bait. Auston glanced at William again, who gave him a short nod. Taking a deep breath, Auston shifted closer to her on the couch.

“Nora,” he began, his tone unusually serious. “There’s something you don’t know about us. Me and Will, we’re... we’re together.”

For a moment, Nora thought she’d misheard. She blinked, leaning back slightly as she processed his words. “Together?” she repeated, her voice slower, uncertain. “Like... together-together?”

William nodded, his face calm but tinged with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “Yeah. For about two years.”

Two years.

Nora’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?” she said, her voice rising. “You’ve been together for two years and never told me? I thought we were close! Why would you keep that from me?”

Auston ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely guilty. “We didn’t mean to keep it a secret forever. We just—”

“We were afraid of how you’d react,” William interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re important to us, Nora. We didn’t want to mess up what we have with you.”

Nora frowned, her mind spinning. “React to what? You two dating? I mean, it’s a shock, sure, but I’m not—” She stopped mid-sentence, something clicking into place in her mind. She narrowed her eyes at them. “Wait. Have you been flirting with me?”

The flicker of guilt that passed between them was all the confirmation she needed. Her cheeks flushed as she sat up straighter. “You were! Both of you! I thought I was losing my mind.”

“Look, it wasn’t like that,” Auston began, but she cut him off.

“Wasn’t like what? You’re telling me you’ve been secretly dating each other while also... what? Testing the waters with me?”

“It wasn’t a game, Nora,” William said softly, leaning forward, his expression earnest. “We like you. Both of us. More than like you.”

Nora stared at them, stunned into silence. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she tried to make sense of what they were saying. “You... like me?”

“We care about you,” Auston said, his voice low. “We didn’t know how to tell you. But yeah, we’ve been flirting. We’ve been trying to figure out if there’s a chance you’d feel the same way.”

“This is insane,” Nora said, shaking her head. “You’re asking me to... what? Date both of you?”

“We’re asking you to be with us,” William said. “If that’s what you want. If it’s not, we’ll stop. But we had to be honest with you.”

Nora’s heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Auston’s hand moved toward hers, his fingers brushing hers lightly. She shivered, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through her body. “Nora,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion, “we’ve watched you for months. We see the way you look at us. The way your cheeks flush when we tease you. When we touch you, even accidentally, you lean into it. You don’t have to say anything, but we know you feel it too.”

William leaned closer, his steady presence grounding her even as her heart raced. “You’re right to be confused,” he said gently. “We’re not asking for something simple. But you’re already part of this, Nora. You already mean so much to us. We couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t real.”

Auston’s thumb rubbed softly over her knuckles, and her breath caught. “We want this with you,” he whispered. “But only if you want it too.”

Before she could respond, Auston leaned in, his lips brushing hers. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it sent sparks through her entire body. She melted into it, the world around her fading until all that existed was him.

When Auston pulled away, her head was spinning, barely noticing as William leaned in to replace him. His kiss was slower, deeper, and as he cradled her cheek, she felt her walls crumbling.

“See?” Auston murmured against her ear, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down her spine. “This is what we mean. You’re already ours, Nora.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. All she could do was nod, her body betraying her hesitation with its undeniable response to their touch.

“Say yes,” William whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “Let us love you. Let us show you how good this could be.”

Nora exhaled shakily, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t name. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Yes.”

Auston grinned, pulling her back into his arms as William’s hand slid over hers. “You won’t regret this,” Auston promised softly, his lips brushing her temple.

Nora nestled between them on the couch, her head resting against Auston’s chest while William’s arm draped protectively over her waist. Their warmth enveloped her, and she let out a soft, shaky sigh, the tension of the night dissolving into a tender quiet. For the first time in hours—or maybe days—she felt anchored, held in a way that was more than physical.

Auston’s hand moved in slow, soothing circles along her back, his breath soft against her hair. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

William pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, his fingers lacing gently with hers where their hands rested against her thigh. “We’ll take it slow,” he promised, his tone a quiet counterpoint to Auston’s. “Whatever you need, Nora. Whatever makes you feel safe.”

Her chest tightened, not with fear but with an overwhelming sense of being understood. She tilted her head slightly, meeting William’s gaze. There was a softness in his blue eyes, a quiet vulnerability that mirrored her own. His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles, a small but grounding gesture that said everything he couldn’t put into words.

Auston shifted slightly, his arms tightening around her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You mean so much to us,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “You always have.”

The sincerity in their words tightened her chest. She turned her head, locking eyes with Auston. His typically serious gaze was now soft, full of warmth and openness, revealing a depth of emotion she hadn’t expected. The vulnerability she saw there erased the final traces of her hesitation.

Nora leaned into him, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before turning toward William. He cupped her cheek, his touch so gentle it made her heart ache, and kissed her like he had all the time in the world.

When they finally pulled away, she found herself sinking further into the space they created for her. Auston rested his chin on her shoulder, his breath warm against her neck, while William tucked her legs over his lap, stroking her ankle absentmindedly.

They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, their movements slow and unhurried as if savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

For the first time, Nora let herself relax completely, her body melting into theirs. She felt Auston’s heartbeat steady against her back, William’s hand warm and firm against her hip, and her own breath falling into sync with theirs.

Auston tilted his head, his lips brushing her ear in a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “This is how it’s supposed to feel,” he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

Nora closed her eyes, a soft smile curling her lips as she let herself believe him. In their arms, with the weight of the world momentarily lifted, she felt a peace she hadn’t realized she was missing.

The three of them stayed that way, cocooned in each other’s warmth, the forgotten movie casting soft shadows on the walls. And as the night stretched on, Nora felt a quiet but undeniable truth settle in her chest: this was home. Part 2

[castingspellsanddaisies]

How's ''sexy time'' with Jude Bellingham? | Tarot Reading

DISCLAIMER: Take everything in here with a grain of salt - and have fun!

WARNING: This post contains some 18+ topics, so if you don't want to read it, beat it.

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

How's Jude during sexy times? How does he act during it?

queen of cups reversed + 10 of pentacles + wheel of fortune + ace of pentacles + 4 of pentacles + the empress + knight of swords reversed + page of swords reversed + king of pentacles reversed:

He's a bit selfish during it, I'm not going to lie to you. I see he may rush into things most of time and there's a lack of communication during it (he may not be much vocal during it, may not understand very well what his partner wants). He seems kinda impulsive during sex to me. I get it, he's not emotionally involved in this (both of them aren't, honestly), but that's not an excuse, dude. I see his whole body getting so sensitive that he kind of ''forgets'' a little bit about his partner's needs.

He's insecure about his performance? Oh my, guys... I think he gets insecure about it. Whomever keep talking about their experience with him on the internet... He doesn't like it a bit.

I see him being very worried about security while doing it (either the place must be secure, the person must be secure, condoms are a MUST for him).

I see him being a switch as well, so he may start on top, then his partner gets on top and he likes it; then minutes later he tops her again and so on.

He's good at foreplay, though. He's very very VERY touchy and he likes to take his time getting them both ready. During foreplay I see him getting a bit dominating. I see edging practice here, but indirectly? He just likes to stretch out the pleasure as much as he can so he edges without even thinking about it. He loooves to kiss, he loooves to be touched everywhere. He has an impregnation kink but he doesn't practice it yet (maybe with his girlfriend? His wife?).

But as soon as they're done he's done as well? I don't see aftercare or much communication after in here. It's more like Jude has a bunch of bootycalls and that's it. I see steamy foreplay, hasty action, then ''goodbye, 'till next time, mate''. Not good, not not good.

How Jude likes his partner to act during it?

the high priestess + 7 of pentacles + 8 of cups reversed + knight of wands + the emperor + the hermit + 2 of cups + queen of cups + knight of pentacles reversed

Jude here likes women who know what they're doing (pillow princesses step back). Does it mean he always encounter these? No.

He likes to be dominated and to surrender during sex and he likes for his partner to guide their pleasure to exaustion. What am I talking about here? More edging. I knew it! To the point of one of them (or both) end up crying for oversensibility.

Jude likes when fantasy mix with reality, so music on, roleplays, made up scenarios... And mutual masturbation while staring at each other's eyes? My, my...

He likes direct partners to tell him what to do, how to do it and in a bold way. Don't you dare to be shy with him, he likes them fiery.

So he may not be emotionally connected to his partners right now, but during the act, Jude wants to feel like they care for him. What a hypocrite!

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

So yes, sometimes he meets people who ''match his freak'', sometimes he doesn't. The things he likes his partner to do, in my opinion, are not the reality of what happens. Some people have kinks and desires but don't act on them for lack of awereness and lack of a ''proper partner'' for it. Most one-night stands are just boring and quick sex, you know it.

That's all for now, folks!

If you have any questions or opinions, just send them in my inbox.

Take care and bye bye<3

[adnauseum11]

Restricted Operating Zone (John Price x Reader)

Kate has a job offer for John.

850 words

CW: swearing, reference to oral sex

Kate considers it lucky that John is about as relaxed as she’s ever seen him, because he’s not going to be pleased when she delivers the lines she’s been asked to say. John’s a pro, surely, he knows how it goes. Kate’s orders aren’t her own half the time, and often not a first choice. 

“You’re looking better every time I see you, John, still having fun in retirement?”

John nods slowly, a flicker of something crossing his face before he replies. 

In a split second he’s called forth an image in his mind’s eye of his love, her leg thrown over his shoulder and fingers tangled in his hair while he knelt before her in the shower. Her head thrown back as she cried out into the steamy room. She had given him shit over making her cum that hard before work, which had made him laugh. She would be back by now, rattling around alone in that drafty, shitty place she was calling home for the moment.  

“Yeah, you could say that.” He plays a card and leans back, observing her. “Any particular reason you mention it?” He may be out of work but his senses are still keen to corporate grade bullshit. 

“We’ve been having issues with an objective-“

“Oh hell –“

“Just hear me out John” Kate’s trying to get a word in edgewise but John’s not entertaining it.

“No, I don’t need to hear what you’re gonna say. The answer is no.”

Kate sighs, knowing it would go this way and yet, she still has a job to do. She presses on, pushing her luck as much as she dares. She waits a few extra beats to play her card – both literally and figuratively - not because she is unsure, but because she needs John to settle. It works and the anger bleeds out of his eyes, replaced with the cold calculating look she’s more intimately familiar with. 

“They’re offering a wildly lucrative contract. It’s a highly sensitive mission, small task force, Gaz is available and will sign on if you do. An intercept and collect. Exfil already lined up. Just need a signature on the dotted line.”

“Laswell, I’m going to get you a hearing aid for your next birthday. No.”

“John, I wasn’t authorized to accept ‘No.’ This needs to happen, or shit gets hairy on a global scale. Hence the price tag. One last job and you can set up shop with your little missus. I’m guessing you two are still seeing each other?”

The mention of John’s love in the same breath as work makes him clench his cards. His focus narrows onto Laswell, and she has the presence of mind to be uncomfortable with his sudden laser focused attention.

“What did you just say?” There’s a very real threat of menace in his tone.

“Hey – ho. This is a friendly card game, folks. Kate, don’t talk shop at the card table.” Kate’s wife attempts to intercede, placing her own cards down and looking from guest to guest with concern. 

Every invited guest around the table has worked with Kate, and understand the implications of the work. None have worked as long or as closely with Kate as John, and even retired he’s a leader. All eyes swing to Kate to see how she will react. 

“I never see him anymore unless it’s here at cards.” Kate says by way of defence, petulant even in the face of a pissed off John Price. “All I’m saying is it would be nice to start a new life with a nest egg, is all. What if she gets sick?” Her tone is innocent but John sees red.

Kate’s wife is shaking her head in warning, but Kate is too bullheaded to take the advice on. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to see you unless we’re playing cards, Kate.” John responds coolly, folding the cards in his hands flat against the table. “I served my time. I’m moving on with my life. Don’t mention her again, that’s a warning.” His big frame is sitting fully upright now, the loose-limb posture he’d been in since he’d arrived evaporating. 

“You’ve got 96 hours to decide John, or the offer disappears.”

“I don’t need any hours to decide, Laswell, ‘cause I won’t be attending your latest clusterfuck. In fact, I’m not going to attend this poker game.” John throws what could have been a winning hand on the table and stands abruptly.   

“John, there’s no need – “ 

Kate’s backpedaling, realizing she’s overstepped far too late. 

“I’ll see you in a few weeks. In the meantime, don’t contact me.” 

John tucks the chair back into place with way more force than necessary, spilling Kate’s drink as it collides with the frame of the table.

“Jesus Christ Kate – “ 

Her wife is wide-eyed, staring at her with disappointment as John yanks his coat from a peg, slamming the door on his way out.

“Shit.” Kate curses, holding her dripping cards up.

“Did that go how you hoped? Maybe listen to your wife next time.”

Taglist:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos

Next Chapter

[winterchimez]

Strawberries & Cigarettes | Ju Haknyeon

SUMMARY: loving your best friend would've been a lot easier, if only he wasn't the mafia boss that was feared and hated by the public.

PAIRING: mafia!Haknyeon x f!reader

GENRE: forbidden love, childhood friends to lovers au, angst, suggestive, some fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of smoking, kissing & making out (it gets steamy folks you have been warned 😃 but def sfw so dw adajkdnksj), hak is shirtless towards the end 😶, fic is set in HK 🇭🇰, mentions of the HK mafia

WORD COUNT: 2,131

A/N: hi hello it's been months 🥹 irl has been real busy and i've recently changed my job + doing a 2nd degree so there's that!! also made it just in time for hakkie's birthday 🍊 thankiew so so much @from-izzy for literally encouraging me for the past few months when i've been away and the fact she never gave up hope that i'll eventually write again (and ofc beta reading & choosing the banner for me) 🥹🥹🥹💜💜💜

Day 309.

That’s how long you have been separated from your best friend as you walked towards the window of your bedroom and leaned against it with a bowl of strawberries in your hand. It was a daily routine for you—mentally counting the days that have passed while prepping your usual choice of fruits to munch throughout the day.

It wasn’t because strawberries were your favourite, but it was done more so as a remembrance to your companion whom you’ve stuck to ever since you could remember. 

You both grew up together in the same neighbourhood and were the only children who could keep up with each other��s chaotic behaviour. Most kids would first spend probably a good 10 minutes before deeming that your best friend wasn’t the fun yet safe friend to be with. Nobody could’ve blamed them for running, especially given his family’s history. 

But that didn’t stop you from nudging his arm to play soccer with you and would drag his ass towards the soccer field if he denied your request. Eventually, meeting at the field at 6 in the evening every day became a usual routine until graduating high school. 

Things started to change when it was time to enter university. Unlike the usual route where everyone would start applying for schools they wished to attend, your best friend decided to take on his family mantle and disassociated himself from everybody. 

Again, he didn’t have a choice, and the times you would meet up with him gradually turned from a couple days a week to less than five times a month. Meeting up with your best friend since he took on his father’s role has been stressful, to say the least, since you would often have to sneak out of the house to meet in a secluded area where your loved ones wouldn’t discover you both.

The casual, friendly meetups slowly turned into something beyond what friends would do, and eventually, you were caught up in a forbidden romantic relationship. You didn’t know how to explain it, but it was as if he had suddenly turned on a switch, and you now saw him differently. 

It could be the maturity of his actions, or perhaps the new striking black hair that gave him a totally new look—you never really concluded that. But you have been spending nights with him in his apartment on the outskirts of Hong Kong, and he would have to make sure you’d be back home before 7 in the morning so that your parents wouldn’t even know you were gone from your residence. 

It went on for a year before everything came crashing down. You were caught red-handed climbing back up to your room while your friend was waiting by the windows to ensure you were safe and sound before he left. Due to your father being the CEO of one of the largest companies in the city, it would’ve been death if the public knew that his daughter ended up with the boss of the public would never associate themselves with.

That’s right. Ju Haknyeon, whom you grew up with, is the leader of the Hong Kong’s mafia gang.

You still vividly remember how your mum exerted all her strength to hold you back while your father got caught up in a little brawl with Haknyeon at your doorstep. Eventually, your friend gave up and made a pact with your family that he would never show his face to them again and would have nothing to do with you. 

A simple goodbye that escaped Haknyeon’s lips that day was the worse thing you could ever imagine—his swollen right eye and bleeding gums from your father’s brutality will forever be etched in your memory whether you liked it or not. 

You’ve done everything within your capability to forget that—going through therapy or even crying yourself to sleep every single night did nothing to ease the pain. Eventually, your tears stopped flowing, and you decided that nothing could ever put a smile on your face ever again. 

Until your gaze fixated on the calendar on your wall and you got up to tear out all the pages that were no longer useful to you. It was already March, and you wouldn’t need to read the previous year's months. Just then, you stopped as you finally reached the paper with a particular date circled in red. 

9th March. 

Your eyes widened as you remembered what it was. 

It’s Haknyeon’s birthday. 

Your eyes immediately sparkled, and you had a reason to live on again, even if it was just for a day. You desperately want to wish your best friend a happy birthday and give him a present so that his special day would at least be memorable ever so slightly. 

Unfortunately for you, your father had placed bodyguards outside your room to prevent you from leaving without a proper reason. Hence, you turned towards the windows, began unlocking it and stuck your head out to examine your surroundings. A few guards were also stationed below your room, so you darted towards the big tree on your left and mentally calculated the distance to jump towards the tall branch without being detected. 

It wasn’t really a challenging task after all, and you immediately succeeded in one go, slowly climbing down while trying your very best not to make a sound. Once the coast was clear, you quickly dashed through the other side of the road, not turning your head back to see if the guards had noticed your presence. 

You just needed to see Haknyeon, and that’s all that matters to you now.

Haknyeon’s eyes widened as he opened his front door to see you standing there, out of breath with your hair ever so slightly messed up. Your clothes weren’t in the best form either—climbing down from the tree has made some of the dirt got onto your white sweater that you were wearing. 

When you finally managed to catch your breath, you looked up to see your best friend staring bewildered, frozen in place. Neither of you said anything for a minute, and you took the time to examine him from top to bottom. You missed everything about him: from the cologne that he wore to his jet black hair, his sharp jawline, and his perfectly plump lips. 

The tears that had stopped flowing for a year eventually came pouring down as you finally smiled at him, choked back your tears, and finally told him what you wanted to say. 

“Happiest birthday, my love.” 

You had fully expected Haknyeon to at least speak up by now, but as you opened your eyes again, he was still standing there, not moving an inch. What changed this time, though, was how his brows frowned, and he gave you what seemed like a very concerned look.

“H-Haknyeon? Is something wrong?” You asked when you hesitantly took one of his hands into yours and squeezed them lightly. 

No response. 

Maybe I’ve come at the wrong time? Perhaps I should leave instead- 

Before you could even process what else to say towards him, Haknyeon immediately snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you in and crashed his lips onto yours. His sudden action took you aback, and you were about to push him away until you remembered that familiar taste of strawberries on his lips.

That was why you decided to snack on a bowl of strawberries every day. You missed him dearly, and eating the fruit, which reminded you so much of how he tasted, was the very least you could do to remember his presence for the past year. 

As the kiss deepened, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck before he pulled you in quickly and shut the door with his knees. Haknyeon wasted no time pinning you towards his front door and kissed you feverishly. At this point, it became more of a game to see who could hold their breath longer as neither would back down. 

Haknyeon roughly tilts your head to the other side as his lips quickly travel down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses to make your legs go numb. Your hands clutched onto his shirt, which was bound to leave wrinkles with the amount of strength you were exerting, but it was all Haknyeon’s fault for jumping straight to doing what he did without even warning you. 

Your voice sounded so sweet, and he kept going without a break. He missed your touch and how you would hold onto him, and boy, does he love it when you call out his name. 

Things eventually escalate when you end up on his bed before the male stops and pulls away from you. Not only were you surprised that he decided to stop there but also the fact that things were going well when it ended abruptly—making you feel frustrated to say the least. 

You were not going to let him go again, and you wrapped your hands around him before pulling him down to the point where both of your lips were merely inches apart from one another. His breath was enough to tell you that everyone should step back before things got out of hand. But you were determined that things would not end up the same as before, and you were not going to repeat the same mistake.

I’m never letting you go again. 

“Y/N, no… we can’t... your father said so-”

Before Haknyeon could finish his sentence, you pulled him in for another kiss before pointing at your exposed neck, which his lips had roamed literally minutes before. His eyes widened at the look on your face—he would’ve sworn that he would be the one who was going to pass out first instead of you. 

“If it’s just for one night, mark me so that I’ll remember I’m yours forever.”

Your eyes drifted open as the sun came blaring straight onto your face. Shifting through the covers, you realise that you had fallen asleep at some point. It was then you heard the shower turning off from the bathroom right outside the bedroom, and you noticed Haknyeon’s absence from the side of the bed. 

You could tell how he probably had woken up not too long ago since his side of the bed still felt slightly warm and so did the covers on your side. You chuckled at the thought, knowing that he probably wrapped you close to sleep the night before and stayed in the same position till morning. 

Right when you sat up, the male walked in, wearing only sweatpants and a towel around his neck. His hair was still slightly dripping wet as he approached. He took a seat on his side and gently cupped one side of your face before pulling you in for a good morning kiss. 

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve slept this well,” you groggily responded.

“Me too. I missed having this familiar scent close to me and throughout the night,” he smiled. 

Scent? What was he talking about?

Just then, your eyes dart down to the bedside table on his side, and you notice a box of cigarettes in the slightly ajar cabinet. You laughed at the sight as you brought your hand up to your mouth, making Haknyeon confused with the sudden outburst. 

“I never knew you were into smoking, let alone buying a pack that tasted like strawberries.”

“Hey, you can’t blame me. I needed something that would remind me of how you would smell. And to be fair, I have to put on this scary and brave look towards my subordinates as their leader.”

“By having a cigarette in your mouth? You could’ve just get a candy or something.”

“At least on a cigarette, the smell stays on longer. I don’t light it up anyways.” 

Again, you burst into laughter at the thought of how Haknyeon was the complete opposite of what the public paints him to be. In the end, he was just a boy putting up a facade to show everyone that he was something he wasn’t—all because of a girl he was obsessed with.

You did the same, eating the fruits that reminded you of how his lips would taste. Now, you finally understood why this lingering taste of strawberries was on his lips. 

Ruffling your boyfriend’s hair made you feel warm and fuzzy again, and you wished this could go on for as long as you both wished. Slowly, you scoot yourself closer to him before wrapping your entire body within his arms, making sure they are locked tight so that there isn’t any chance of him letting go of you anytime soon. 

“Let’s just stay like this for a while, shall we?”

A/N: writing for the first time in months so please bear with me folks 🥹🥹🥹

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @gluion @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @djidfk @Doorhak @adorhak @daisyvisions (join my permanent taglist here!)

[bartoszsims3]

FIRST IMPRESSIONS: Part 2 – The First Day Unfolds!

After the initial chaos, the guys started settling into their own rhythms—but don’t be fooled, the drama was far from over. 😏

🏆 Joshua, Andrés, and Andy found common ground over a competitive game of foosball, forming what might just be the first real alliance in the house. Was it teamwork, or just a temporary truce? Only time will tell.

💋 Vincent? Oh, Vincent. If flirting was a sport, he’d already have a trophy. The man shamelessly charmed Bruce (and, well… pretty much everyone else in the house). Whether he’s here for love or just the thrill of the chase is still up for debate. 👀

🏃 Tag, You’re It!

Who said romance reality shows had to be mature? 😆 Joshua and Ciarán spent the afternoon playing tag around the villa.

🌙 A Campfire Story… or a Nightmare?

John gathered Cornelius, Vincent, and Bruce for an epic scary story session. With John’s deep voice, the flickering lights, and Vincent dramatically clutching Bruce’s arm, it felt like a full-on horror movie.

💦 Kurt’s Personal Spa Day

Meanwhile, Kurt? He spent literally the entire day in the hot tub, watching the drama unfold from a safe (and steamy) distance. He was plotting his next move?

👨‍🍳 Andy, being the sweetheart he is, cooked a big meal for the whole house. The guys were thrilled, and for a brief moment, there was peace.

🍽️ A Tale of Two Dinners

Andrés, however, decided to make his own meal and quietly ate alone. Are Andy and Andrés really that good friends?

🥊 THE NIGHT ENDS WITH A BANG. LITERALLY.

Just when things seemed to be winding down… Cornelius and Belphogor went from exchanging words to exchanging actual slaps. Whatever the argument was about, neither of them were backing down. Who won? Who started it? And more importantly… what does this mean for their chances with Bruce?!

With just one day down, we’ve already had:

🔥 Fights

💘 Flirting

🎭 Drama

🌙 Storytelling

🍽️ Friendship (and loneliness)

And this is just the beginning. 😏 Buckle up, folks — because this Bachelor Challenge is turning out to be one hell of a ride. 🚀🔥

[shousetsubangbang]

Shousetsu Bang*Bang Issue 110: Neon Lights

cover by juou no zan (女王のザン)

We’re all light, by Hyakunichisou 13 (百日草 十三)

Paint the Town Vermilion, by shukyou (主教) *

Going Up, by Domashita Romero

Eleven, Twelve, by Suzuran *

A Snapshot of Married Life, by Kit Miller

The Confidence of a Beast, by Ladz

Daughter of the Redsun, by ShrimpKing *

*illustrated

—

Heat Up, by TOFU+BEAST

~*~

This is the webzine. Shousetsu Bang*Bang. It’s a big webzine with a big heart, and it offers a lot. Whatever genre you want, it’s probably here. The sights, the bodies, what those bodies do with other bodies– Well, it’s queer tastes for queer folks, that’s for sure. There’s an internet of billions of people out there, like a city that never sleeps. And sometimes, late at night, those people find themselves awake, staring out their windows or at all their little open tabs, dreaming of a new life, a better life, one filled with love and lust and happy endings. A life packed with tales as steamy and seamy as a hot city night, all of them deliciously smutty and all of them absolutely free.

That’s where I come in.

My name’s Issue 110. I carry a batch (of new stories and art!).

—

(For summaries, creators’ notes, and more, we would usually tell you to see this issue’s entry on the Shousetsu Bang*Bang wiki. In the interim, however, please visit the relevant Google Doc of contributor commentary for similar content.)

[springwitch8]

green like her eyes (part 1) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you and melissa enjoy smoking weed together to blow off steam from work. this time, things get really steamy.

warnings: sexual content (18+), recreational marijuana use, some emotional/romantic story elements (fluff? more like intense mutual pining), trippy scenes and a general dark aura at times but it's cute

notes: i'm back! consume drugs responsibly, folks. this story is different from my usual content and loosely based on an ex-situationship lol. part 1 sets up the relationship between mel and reader, and part 2 (hopefully coming in the next few days) will feature some more sexual tension and smut. comments and feedback appreciated as always 💚

melissa never would have guessed that you were as young as you were when she met you. unlike other teachers your age, you had a natural air of maturity about you. you were confident but not cocky, passionate (but not annoyingly so, like janine), and smart but not smug about it. in a word, you were cool. and melissa was hooked. with the natural chemistry between the two of you, you became fast friends.

you never meant for melissa to find out about your extracurricular interest in marijuana, but it just slipped out one day. you were too comfortable around her to hold anything back.

"god, what a week it's been," you mused, sitting on her desk as you watched her pack up for the weekend. "i just need to curl up on my couch, put on some netflix, and maybe smoke..."

"smoke what?" she asked reflexively, and you knew she was a keeper.

in the conversation that followed, you and melissa made plans to smoke together that night. what started as a fun experiment soon became routine stress relief. you'd go over to melissa's house every friday night and make full use of the weed from one of her many 'guys'. because melissa cared about your safety, she never let you drive home. you'd just have to sleep over. and since she wouldn't let you sleep on the couch—'the last thing ya need at your age is back pain!'—you would just have to sleep in her bed. with her.

with the introduction of this shared interest, your relationship with melissa became much more intimate. for starters, melissa's touches were always bolder on friday nights. while she wasn't shy about touching you sober—drifting her hand along your lower back as she brushed past you, rubbing your shoulders when you looked stressed in the breakroom—the touches were different after a joint or two. hungrier.

where you were a giggly and whimsical stoner, melissa was definitely a touchy one. you two would sit on her couch, practically on top of each other while you watched movies or played video games. you'd talk animatedly about whatever was happening on the tv; she'd watch your face and trace featherlight patterns on your thighs. and your belly. and maybe also the swell of your ass, when she thought she could get away with it.

she always could.

...

after the success of ava fest, the two of you were on top of the world. tonight's would be the best sleepover yet.

"we got lots to celebrate, sweet pea," melissa had covertly whispered in your ear as people filed out of the gym. you knew what she meant and your face warmed, causing you to look away bashfully. melissa thought you were the cutest thing.

when you let yourself in the front door that night, you were met with the mesmerizing sight of melissa rolling a joint on her kitchen counter. she smirked as you faltered in the doorway, eyes lingering on her working fingers. she rubbed the flower between her fingertips, and your mind betrayed you with a filthy image.

"y/n? you comin' in?" melissa's amused voice brought you out of your trance and you kicked your boots off, closing the door behind you. melissa didn't miss the way your skirt lifted and swirled with your movements.

"looking good, chef schemmenti," you gestured between melissa and the joint-in-progress. at this she smiled, trying not to stare at your breasts and legs as you moved closer in that damn outfit.

you leaned against the counter across from her, making sure to push your tits forward while doing so. you winked at melissa, whose cheeks had turned a shade pinker, and motioned for her to continue rolling up.

"thanks, hon. this stuff's supposed to be top-shelf. gelato, i think they said," melissa's south philly accent was clear as she spoke.

you smiled in appreciation. melissa knew you liked to research what you smoked before you got high on it. you picked up your phone to look up the strain, but then you saw melissa bring the paper up to her lips.

her tongue darted out and drew a line across the paper, allowing melissa to seal the joint. she held eye contact with you the entire time, and you swore she could read your mind. it was like she knew you were thinking about her tongue sweeping through your folds and circling your bundle.

you knew it was wrong; it had to be. she was your coworker, and so much older with more experience in every aspect of life. but that was exactly what attracted you to her.

"whaddaya say? wanna light this one up?" melissa held the joint up to your line of sight, an amused glint in her eyes.

...

minutes later you were standing on her balcony, huddled together to keep the wind from putting out the flame. melissa took the first hit, blowing an impressive cloud of smoke from her full lips and into the sky. you felt dizzy watching the way her lips curled into an 'o' around the smoke.

when she passed the joint to you, you were determined to prove yourself. you took a long inhale, and in seconds you were coughing furiously. melissa chuckled under her breath, but reached out to rub your back. her touch felt electric.

"you okay, hon? i would call an ambulance, but this community doesn't need to know what ms. schemmenti and ms. y/l/n do behind closed doors," she joked, drawing circles on your back.

"yeah, i'm alright," you rasped out, brushing tears from your eyes. "my lungs just need a break." melissa paused a moment at that, looking deep in thought.

"do you trust me?" she finally asked after a prolonged silence. you nodded firmly, staring deep into her probing eyes. they were as green as the trees in her backyard.

melissa took another hit of the joint and leaned in, and before you knew it her mouth was on yours. her tongue swiped along your bottom lip, and your lips parted to welcome her in. she blew a steady stream of smoke into your mouth, and you accepted it greedily.

"there. feel better?" melissa whispered as she pulled away from you. her pupils were blown, and you felt high on the look she gave you alone. you both grinned.

the rest of the session went that way. melissa would take sizable hits of the joint, then shotgun the smoke into your mouth for you. you didn't touch the joint for the rest of the night; if you wanted a direct hit, melissa would hold it up to your lips while her other arm rested on your waist.

melissa was right about the weed being high-quality. you felt like you were floating in her arms as she held you by the waist—keeping you upright in your disoriented state. as she finished off the last of the joint, you looked out at the woods behind melissa's house. the trees seemed closer to you now, and you felt like reaching out and touching the branches as they danced in the wind.

"honey?" melissa's soft voice echoed in your head and you turned to face her. her eyes seemed to swirl and sparkle like emerald pools. but there was also a dark edge to them, reminding you of the beckoning woods.

"let's go for a walk."

...

though it wasn't your typical pastime, you quite liked walking while high. your legs moved on autopilot, and you could hardly feel them carrying you across the dark earth. there was a walking path through the woods behind melissa's house. you strolled side-by-side with the older woman, leaning on her for support when your balance failed you.

"mel, look!" you grabbed her hand and stopped on the path, your other hand pointing up to the sky. "it's a full moon! pretty, right?"

"beautiful..." melissa responded, not at all looking at the moon. her gaze was fixed on your face, which seemed to glow under the moonlight. when her finger stroked the back of your hand absently, you shivered and looked back at her. the expression on her face was soft, even peaceful. with her mouth forming a half-smile and her eyes slightly unfocused, it seemed like she had finally dropped her guard. realizing she had been caught staring, melissa quickly pivoted.

"i always liked the sun better, though," she said as you both resumed walking. the moon's shine weakened then, as if obscured by a cloud. melissa stole a glance at you, noticing how your hair looked a shade darker in the dimmer light. she wanted to stroke it, hold it up to all different colors of light and watch its hues and highlights change.

"huh. why?" you wondered aloud. melissa considered your question a while before answering.

"because you can't run from it," melissa said plainly. "i never liked hidin' in the shadows. you can do that at night. but then the sun comes up, and it's bright and warm, and you can't stay down. you gotta wake up and be somebody."

you heard her words in every corner of your head, her deep voice flowing through you. maybe you were high, but there seemed to be a strong force—almost like gravity—pulling you towards melissa. not just physically, but mentally. you wanted to tell her how smart she was, how charming and powerful and fucking sexy. you wanted to tell her that she was the sun burning brightly at the center of your world.

unfortunately, in your hazy headspace, you couldn't find the words to express all this to her. but you sure tried.

"and the sun is hot and fiery, like you," you almost whispered the last two words, but melissa caught them. she brushed off the compliment with a low laugh and a squeeze of your hand, still clasped in hers.

"sure, hon," she murmured. then you started to feel the stirrings of a rainstorm. cold droplets of water kissed your head and ran down your torso, and you looked to melissa for guidance. by now, you two were pretty far from melissa's house; you'd need to head back soon to avoid getting soaked.

melissa gave you a nod and you both began to run back towards the house, the wind howling in your ears and water beating steadily on your joined hands.

to be continued...

[bitbybitwrites]

Thanks to the folks who tagged me in WIP Wednesday/ Several/Six/Seven Sentence Sunday lately:

 @iboatedhere , @forabeatofadrum,  @porcelainmortal , @firstprincehornyramblings , @alasse9 ,

@sophie1973 ,@onthewaytosomewhere  

I know I'm still plugging away at my main fics I'm writing, but I don't have anything new for them, so here's some bits of some WIP (firstprince and klaine) that I have lying around for now . . .

I want to give a heads up and a bit of an apology to the folks I'm writing fics for . . . it may be a bit of delay in getting my next chapters out for you. I assure you I haven't forgotten you at all.

I currently find myself having to completely revamp my resume and look for a new job. And I quite honestly haven't done that in years so I'm struggling with that and real life at the moment.

I think revising my resume is definitely a lot harder than than writing fan fiction . .

But here's a little something for folks to read from a few of my many in-progress unpublished WIP in the meantime under the cut.

1.) how ardently I admire and love you (RWRB/FirstPrince online auction fic)

Task #2 -  Secure alone time to actually take part in the auction without tipping Henry off.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” Alex asked as he stuffed his laptop into his messenger bag.   “I hate to do this, but we are so behind on this group project.  And I think if we just squeeze in this one night and power through, we can get it all done.”

Henry smiled calmly as he set his mug on the counter, the soft bergamot steam rising from the Earl Grey and filling the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Alex.  I am perfectly capable of having a relaxing night in by myself.  I have my tea. I have Jaffa Cakes. I have David.  And I have this excellent novel I am dying to finish.”  Henry nodded toward the book lying spread open on the counter, partially filled with the annotations and colorful tags in it that made Alex smile.

“Is that the one about the bisexual exes having a sex contest while on a food tour through Europe?  The steamy one?”

“The very same.”  Henry waggled his eyebrows.  “I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

“Don’t.” Alex said as he leaned in with a kiss. “And we are so totally doing that in the future.”

Henry tipped his head back and laughed.  “Do what?  Have a sex contest?  Or a food tour through Europe?”

“Both.  Both are good.” Alex crowded Henry against the kitchen island, deliberately pressing their hips together and grinding up against Henry a few times.

Henry groaned as he tried to push Alex away.  “Get off, you horny cretin.”

“I’ll get you off, alright.”

Another beautiful laugh escaped those soft pouty lips Alex loved so much.  “Seriously go.  The faster you leave, the faster you can get this project done and we can get some sexual conquering in when you get home.” Henry tried to convince his boyfriend. 

Alex, however was unmoved, choosing instead, to latch onto Henry's neck, peppering it with kisses. Alex's hands, cradled in that sweet spot at Henry's waist, held Henry firm, making sure their lower extremities continued their dirty revolutions against one another.

"Fuck, if you don’t get moving," Henry groaned as he (very, very reluctantly) disengaged his grabby-handed boyfriend from his body. "I’m going to take you over my knee.”

“Hey baby, don’t threaten me with a good time . . .”

2.) Cuffed (klaine D/s AU - prequel to my fic, Trick or Treat)

A loud slam resounded through the bedroom three some hours later. The three people who had collapsed, emotionally and physically exhausted, on Cooper’s monstrous king sized bed were all jolted awake.

“Well, well, well . . . what do we have here.”  An oily voice sneered, the disdain and revulsion curling off of the words and into the air, near tangible.

Blaine whimpered, and instinctively crawled into Lola’s arms, which wrapped around the young boy protectively.  Blaine cradled his wrist closer to his body, the gauze bandages now covering the injury that had been inflicted by his father’s prompting.

Cooper was up and out of bed in a second.  He stood, shoulders squared, chin defiantly jutting forward, choosing to very deliberately place himself in front of the other two submissives on the bed, forming a barrier between the two parties.

His eyes blazing and fists curled tightly, Cooper bravely took a step forward.

“I came home late to find Blaine crying and injured.  I had Lola take care of him, as is her role in this household. I allowed them to rest here so I could keep an eye on them both.” Cooper said firmly, allowing his Dominant pheromones, loose. . .in a way, taunting his own father by making him witness his own budding power and control.

Nathaniel, gazed skeptically at his eldest son through narrowed eyes. He wasn’t ignorant enough to know what this was.  His nearly adult son exerting his own will, testing the limits.

It was the natural order of things.

In a way, it made Nathaniel slightly proud.

At least one of his sons could be depended upon to keep the Anderson name flourishing under his Dominance.

As for the other one.

Nathaniel frowned as he caught Blaine’s gaze over his brother’s shoulder.  The young boy cringed visibly and burrowed further into his nanny’s arms.

“I see,” the Anderson patriarch said, in even tones.  “Well done, Cooper.”

Cooper’s eyebrow lifted in surprise. That was certainly the last thing he expected to come out of his father’s mouth. The younger Anderson quickly schooled his face into a more controlled, emotionless countenance. “Thank you, sir.”

“I expect you to keep them in line,” Nathaniel smoothly ordered.  The slight twitch in his eldest son’s shoulders, the tell tale sign of his slight deference to the older Dominant was accepted by Nathaniel with a sly grin.

Cooper still knew his place.

It was the natural order of things.

With a tight nod, and a glare at Blaine and Lola, who had sat silently through the exchange, Nathaniel Anderson exited the room.

He knew what he had to do.

Going to leave an open tag here for anyone who wants to jopin in, but also will add these lovely folks, incase they want to jump in:

 @getmehighonmagic, @caterpills, @blueeyedgrlwrites, @theprinceandagcd  , @annepi-blog,

@myheartalivewrites , @14carrotghoul, @kirakiwiwrites, @emeryhall

@wowbright, , @coffeegleek, @theprinceandagcd

@gleefulpoppet , @special-bc-ur-part-of-it , @daisyishedwig @sarkyblueeyes , @hkvoyage

@tinyarmedtrex, @1908jmd , @sparklepocalypse @spaceorphan18, @firstprincehornyramblings

@kirakiwiwrites , @cha-melodius @yadivagirl, @lady-divine-writes, @cryscendo 

@rockitmans, @madas-ahatters-world , @little-escapist @thesleepyskipper @caterpills

@nocoastposts, , @thinkof-england , @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

@blurglesmurfklaine @blueeyedgrlwrites