#you’d agree if you listened to the whole thing

[redhotarsenic]

Reporpoised phantasies machine girl is 21 minutes of the worst trip to the beach imaginable in audio form. Like the beach is alive and actively trying to fuck with you and it’s getting so much pleasure out of it

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dropsnectar]

Courting a Queen: Bee Hybrids x Reader

I’m really into @bunnis-monsters Bee Hybrid universe. While reading, I always wondered how they managed to lure the Queen into their hive in the first place, considering they are human and all. This is inspired by that.

You had been perusing the stalls at the farmers market when you, distracted by a couple with a cute dog, ran him over. The tumble wasn’t too bad, as you had landed on something soft and fluffy; Only, that soft and fluffy thing happened to be a person. 

You started cursing and apologizing profusely when you noticed he wasn’t entirely human. A plush soft face, huge adorable eyes, and two fuzzy antennas popping out of a bunch of curly hair alerted to you that he was a bug hybrid of some kind. His features were delicate, as was his thin frame. Tufts of blonde and black spilled out of the collar of his shirt, and you could see a pair of beautiful round wings behind him, sparkling in the sunlight.

You’d repeat your apology at him, as you realized you had been staring for too long. His expression, at first shocked, morphed into a big, exquisite smile. He looked positively glowing, and shook with excitement as he stared at you. He reassured you he was alright and gave you a reassuring pat on the back, hands soft. 

You couldn’t help but note that he smelled amazingly sweet. It was an addictive sort of smell, and you had to force yourself to focus back on those incredibly big eyes. It seemed he had asked you a question, your name and what you were up to. His voice had a vibrating texture to it, but the tone was innocent enough so you were at ease. You mentioned that you had been shopping for groceries, and the two of you kept the conversation going. You suggested a stroll around the market as you did so. 

You normally had a hard time talking with strangers but there was something about him that put you at ease. He was a cheerful conversationalist, revealing that he was a bee hybrid. It wasn’t often that bee hybrids came out to this area, and he had been traveling a while, going out to get special supplies for his hive. 

He asked you questions about yourself too, most of which you answered honestly. You normally weren’t so open with strangers, but this man(bee?) was so gentle and puppylike, you didn’t feel on alert at all. The whole time you talked, he listened so intensely, his limbs vibrating with excitement as he gave you a huge dazzling smile. You couldn’t help but feel affection flood your heart every time he tilted his head at you. At some point, when you couldn’t remember, he had softly grabbed hold of your arm, face leaning close as you both batted questions back and forth. You kept going until people started packing up their stalls. 

When he noticed, he stuck out his bottom lip, and clung even closer to you. It seemed he had become attached, as he asked if he could see you again. You agreed to meet up with him again the next morning, and his drooping antennas bounced back up, his wings buzzing excitedly. He flew off, his whole body alight with glee, awaiting tomorrow.

 You smiled, a warmth blooming in your stomach as you thought of how cute he had been. You tried not to linger on the feeling of his breath on your face from earlier. It seemed that bee hybrids had a different idea about what personal space was, but he was harmless. What hurt could happen from seeing him again? He’d batted his eyes at you so innocently after all. 

You went home that night, not realizing it was one of the last nights you would spend alone in a long time.

***

You found your new friend again, next to the stall selling apples. This time, however, it looked like he brought some friends, as two other bee hybrids accompanied him. The wind whipped past you and all three of them turned, seeming to notice your presence. 

Elias, the bee you had met with yesterday, gave you a running hug. You laughed as he did so, charmed by his exuberance at seeing you. A rumbling purr seemed to be filling his chest, and you met his huge adoring eyes with your own smile. Without pulling away from you, he introduced his two friends, fellow drones who had wished to meet you upon hearing him abuzz about you all night. Much like Elias, they also had thin, delicate features, and moved with a certain inhuman grace. You smiled at them, and introduced yourself shyly. 

The other bee-men were also extremely friendly, leading you through the market by the hand as they told you about their jobs in the hive. You learned what a normal day looked like for them and you marveled at their stories. One of the drones, slightly taller than the rest, but just as gorgeous, talked of once when he had been forced to defend the hive from a wasp invasion. Apparently their hive had been enemies with the wasps for some time. You were learning so much about these three, beautiful and interesting creatures that it took a minute to notice that your casual stroll through the market had brought you to the neighboring forest.

You suddenly became aware that you were alone with three bee-men, in a place where no one could hear you scream. 

They must have seen the fear on your face because their own eyes grew full of concern and panic. Elias was the first to sooth you, running his soft hands up and down your arm, asking what was wrong. Another was at your shoulder drawing calming circles and humming a soothing tune as Elias babbled at your rising panic. The other drone  was in front of you, glancing around to see if there was anything that caught your attention, putting you in this state.

You suddenly felt very silly. These bee-man had been nothing but friendly and doting of you. There was no way you were in danger, right? You looked once again, at their round worried faces and took a deep, grounding breath. You explained that you had just been a bit anxious being out of the sun, and perhaps you could all go back to the market and talk?

If Elias had had eyebrows they would have furrowed. The other drones looked like puppies who'd just been kicked. Had they said something wrong? Had it been them who made you nervous? There was a slew of apologies. The drone with black curly hair looked so pained that he hovered meekly, wings fluttering in an agitated rhythm.

You tried your best to cheer them up but they couldn’t be consoled. Thinking quickly, you told them you were curious what their honey tasted like, would they bring you some?

Suddenly, all three of the drones stilled, faces frozen. Quickly, the silence turned into loud excited buzzing from all three of them. There was jumping, elation, even triumph on some of their faces.

“Of course, you can have some of our honey!” Squealed Elias. “Let us take you to it!” 

You were then hastily grabbed by the waist and princess-carried up into the air with a burst. You screeched at the suddenness but the harsh air rushing towards you squashed all noise in your throat.

You hadn’t realized such thin lithe bodies could hold all of your weight, let alone fly you through the air at such a speed. You tried to protest and pull on Elias’ shirt to get his attention but he only smiled dumbly at you, nuzzling your neck as you shot through the air. You couldn’t quite hear his purring over the rushing wind, but you felt his pur vibrate through the skin of your neck.

When you landed, it was at a place in the middle of the forest. A large structure, probably the hive lay out, unseeingly large and wide before then. Just as Eliases feet touched the ground, your body was suddenly taken out of Elias’ arms by the two other drones. Your arms were enveloped by their grasp and their big eyes stared at you, filled with adoration and expectation.

They rushed you towards what must have been the opening of the hive, guarded by quite a few other drones. They were MUCH taller than Elias and his company, more burly and muscled. When you met their eyes, the guards hovered and buzzed with excitement. A few even twirled around in circles, bumping into the walls. You thought it strange for guards to be excited about a stranger, but you didn’t have time as the bee-men you'd befriended pushed you past quickly. The smallest drone, the one on your right, went on in a singsong tone about the quality of their honey. “You’ll just love it! We work so hard, you know. We promise you won't be disappointed!” 

The architecture of the hive was strange. There were large twisting tunnels, but the roof itself seemed to glow softly, as if the sun itself had blanketed the ceiling in soft light. 

You tried to slow down your companions, explaining that they must have misunderstood you, you hadn’t meant to go anywhere, but they didn’t listen, just chirp excitedly as they dragged you through the halls. Even still, their grip was so soft on your arms, you knew you could break free if you truly wished. They must be just so over excited to show you their home and their honey. It was their life’s work, so it only made sense, right?

It seemed you had finally reached the destination you desired. It was a bright room with a large couch-like structure, adorned in blankets and pillows. They buzzed with glee and sat you down there. Elias pulled aside a passing bee hybrid, asking for some of their best honey. They met my eyes and buzzed gleefully, before bumbling off. 

You tried your best to remind yourself to be upset. You had basically been kidnapped! But every being you met seemed so adorable and pleased to see you, you just couldn’t help being mad. There must not be any danger here right? After all, bees were very soft and friendly creatures. It wasn’t like you’d been lured into the lair of a wolf hybrid or some predator right? You were safe right?

“Oh no, please don’t be scared, we’ll protect you!” whined Haven, the smaller of the drones. He leaned forward and nuzzled your cheek, tracing soothing circles on your arm. The other drone grasped your hand and brought it to his lips. “Please don’t be upset. We will take good care of you. The best care.” He also leaned forward and started to kiss your other cheek a few times, one reaching the corner of your eyes. It seems they had started to water. 

Elias flew from the door over to your legs. He slowly laid his head on your lap and rubbed the skin he could reach in comfort. You realized your chest was shaking. You were starting to get a bit overwhelmed. Each of the drones started to purr, shushing you and calming you in any way they could. They caressed your hair, they stroked your fingers, they readjusted you on the couch so they could get a better hold of you. Haven sat behind you and messaged your shoulders, while Elias took off your shoes and started on your feet. The other drone was using his own, long and delicate thumbs? Probelike hand-limbs to massage your palms. You slowly started to relax a bit.

They were so attentive and thorough, it was almost like they could feel where you were tense. “How are you able to do that? It's like youre reading my mind or something.”

There was a laugh from them. “Not your mind silly, your pheromones”, Haven's matter of fact tone chilled you.

 “Ph-Pheromones? Like, you can smell my emotions?” 

There was a satisfied chirp from Elias. You almost groaned in pleasure as he messaged a particularly tight spot down your heel. “Our new Queen is so smart. Yes, the whole hive can smell when you're in distress or sad. Or happy. We will always make sure to make you happy.” The three of them made a trilling sound together. It must have been their way of agreement. 

Your face flushed, and a heat spread through you. Queen? You should have been horrified, but a part of you grew excited. You lower part of you. A stupid, lower part of you.

“I-I can’t be queen! I’m not a Bee Hybrid like you! I’m Human!”

“A perfect human. You smell just like a perfect Queen! You will take our eggs so well.” The drone with dark hair moved forward, humming excitedly. He started to drag his long, textured tongue up your neck. You shivered and had to stifle a moan.

“We’ve been without a Queen for too long! You're just perfect! You act and smell so sweet, you'll make an excellent mother! Don’t be nervous, okay?” Haven’s grip on your shoulder loosened as he started to nibble your ear. Your lashes fluttered and your breath quickened, coming out in labored gulps. 

“We will all take care of you so well, you won’t ever wish for a thing. So just relax alright?” Purred Elias as he got up from the floor. His black fingers traced the waistband of your leggings. Your mind was so fuzzy from all the sensation you couldn’t do anything but swallow.

All three of your friendly bee-man keened with glee as you relaxed under them. They were going to make sure their Queen was utterly spoiled. 

After all, that was their job, and joy. 

***

Part Two

I hoped you liked it. Bunnis-Monsters described the first batch of bee hybrid suitors as feminine in order to ease the Queen into her *ahem* role. At first I was imagining these siren like creatures, softly seducing their Queen, but... they are bees. They are incredibly bumbling and cute. I hc that these first bees are the more verbally talented of the bunch, best to seduce their Queen into staying with them. Should I finish this with a part two for smut? Anyways, thanks for reading!

[rafesangelita]

can you pleaseeee do some angst with pogue!sweetheart!reader, like she overhears some of the girls at the country club talking about her and saying things like “i don’t know what rafe see’s in her, she’s still a pogue.” and rafe possibly reassuring her? thank you!

warnings: bullying (?), classist comments, slight fluff

a/n: i got carried away (like always lol) leave requests if you’d like!

“rafe, as much as i love you, i don’t think i can stand out here much longer.” you fanned yourself, using your hand to block the sun from hitting your face. rafe and topper were currently playing golf while you played cart girl for them, the summer heat quickly becoming far too hot for you to handle. rafe paused their game, jogging over to you as he took his wallet out of the pocket of his pants.

“start up a tab at the bar, go ahead and cool off, baby.” you accepted his card, silently asking ‘are you sure?’ before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. “go, on.” rafe reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you make your way inside the country club.

you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when a gust of cool air blew past you, immediately ordering a virgin piña colada as you took a seat at the rather empty bar. rafe loved to bring you over to the country club, especially since you pretty much knew everyone from all the times you came to sell your baked goods, although it wouldn’t hurt to make some actual friends instead of acquaintances.

speaking of friends, you spotted a table not too far away, all three girls already looking at you before you smiled at them. no one smiled back. clearing your throat awkwardly, you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you waited for your drink to be made. “you see rafe out on the golf course today? he is just so handsome.” oh, god. your breath hitched, your heart dropping as you continued to listen in on their conversation.

“he is! why he’s dating some pogue baker girl? i’ll never know.”

“that’s literally her over there.”

you shut your eyes, wishing the ground could swallow you whole. “i mean.. she’s pretty and all, but at the end of the day she’s still a pogue.” the girl’s laughter echoed in your ears, your skin flush with embarrassment. “well, it’s obvious that she’s just a charity case. rafe probably feels bad for the girl.” the way they all collectively agreed with one another made tears prick at your eyes.

just when you thought the comments couldn’t get any worse, your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the next accusation. “maybe he’s paying her to have sex with him or something. i could imagine she has to scrape for some kind of change if she lives on the cut.” you were crying now, refusing to let them see any kind of tears running down your face. “one virgin piña colada.” the bartender placed the pretty drink down in front of you, a round of laughter erupting from behind you.

“a virgin piña colada? what is she? twelve?”

deciding you couldn’t take it anymore, you left a cash tip on the counter and muttered a ‘put it on on rafe cameron’s tab, please.’ before leaving without sparing them a single glance. to say you were mortified would be an understatement. rafe was probably going to freak out once he saw that you just up and left, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay there another second.

you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot when you heard rafe’s voice calling after you. “y/n!” he was panting when he finally got to you, “hey, wait a second baby.” you quickly wiped your eyes before turning around, your boyfriend immediately sensing something was wrong. “woah, woah, what happened?” rafe tucked your hair behind your ears, cupping your chin before using his thumbs to stroke your tear-stained cheeks.

“nothing, i just don’t feel so good-”

“it’s not that.” he cut in, eyes flickering between yours. “what happened?” rafe asked once again. you knew it was impossible to lie to him. “tell me, baby, so i can fix it.” his jaw clenched, blue orbs wide with concern. you laughed bitterly. “you can’t fix girls who gossip.” at your words, rafe blinked before looking back at the country club. “are you talking about the snobs at the table near the window?” rafe took your silence as his answer, nodding slowly before draping an arm across your shoulders.

“what did they say?” his voice was eerily calm as he walked you two over to his truck. “it’s stupid, really.” you sniffled, letting rafe place you in the passenger seat. he kept the door open, leaning on the frame as he took your hand in his. “tell me.” rafe’s voice was stern, his chest rising and falling with each breath. you sighed, avoiding his gaze as you spoke. “they said that you have to be paying me to have sex with you because apparently i’m ‘scraping’ for change since i live on the cut.”

rafe’s jaw ticked, his eyes narrowing as he took your words in. “is that it?” he cleared his throat, his vision slowly blinding him with white hot anger. “they also said that they couldn’t understand why you would want to be with a ‘pogue baker girl’.. maybe their right.” rafe’s head shot up at your last statement, his face twisting in confusion. “what are you talking about?” he took your hand in his.

“i’m not even worth half of what these girls are,” you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying again, “i don’t have rich parents, i don’t have a trust fund that ensures i don’t have to work a day in my life, who am i kidding?” you shook your head. rafe studied you for a moment. “you know what you do have?” he lifted your chin, “a heart.”

“that’s something that no amount of money can buy. you have something priceless, y/n. you carry it with you everywhere you go.” rafe pressed a kiss to your temple, mumbling a ‘i’ll be right back.’ before he shut your door. you were a mess after that, his words not only being a comfort to you, but affirming.

rafe was gone for a few minutes before he strided out of the country club, a new piña colada in his hand. “here. now we sit and wait.” you took the drink from him, taking a sip as you watched two security guards escort the group of girls out. “what did you do?” you relaxed in your seat, glancing between rafe and the scene before you.

“got them blacklisted from the club. their parents aren’t as rich as you think.” he laughed, moving his attention to you. “don’t ever question yourself like that again. please.” he turned the engine on. “where are we going?” you asked. “we are going to go get you your own card, with your own little ‘trust fund’, alright?” he nodded.

“you’ll never have to worry about anyone talking like that about you ever again.”

[jjscrybaby]

prompt 5: ‘they’re all lying’

jj maybank x fem!reader | fluff | (meeting the pogues, anxiety, jj being adorable, drinking, mentions of weed, embarrassing stories.)

not proofread! send reqs!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“I’m nervous,” you admitted softly, JJ’s hand in yours as the two of you walked down the street towards the Chateau.

The blonde let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. He gave your hand a squeeze, trying to comfort you so you didn’t take offence from his amusement. “You have nothin’ to be nervous about.”

“I do, J!” You bickered, pouting over at him with a look of irritation. He laughed again, making you pull your hand away from his. “It’s not funny.”

He stopped walking, grabbing your waist so that you would stop with him. His hands rested on your hips as he smiled down at you. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re right, it ain’t funny. But trust me, you don’t need to be scared. All we’re doin’ is sitting around drinking beer.”

“They’re gonna be judging me the whole time, making sure I’m good for you,” you argued, avoiding eye contact with him.

Deep down you knew you were over-reacting. JJ’s friends, the Pogues, were known for being the most chill group around the island. All they did was smoke, surf and drink. But this was different than meeting any old boyfriend’s friends; you were meeting his family. You were well aware of JJ’s childhood — his mom leaving and his dad being an asshole — so you also knew how much his friends meant to him.

John B had been in his life since he was a kid, and the others came along throughout the years. He talked about them like they hung the moon and the stars, and all you wanted was for them to like you. You’d been putting it off for weeks, always coming up with excuses so you didn’t have to tag along but he could see straight through you. It was the most annoying thing about him.

“I promise, sweetheart, they’re gonna love you,” he soothed, one of his hands moving up to run through your hair. You swatted his hand away, having spent half an hour perfecting it.

“What if they don’t?” You asked quietly. Your biggest worry wasn’t that they weren’t going to like you, but that JJ would agree with them.

As said, he can see right through you, so the question sent all amusement off his face. “Hey. You don’t need to worry about us, okay? You’re my girl, right?” You nodded slowly. “Then there’s nothin’ to worry about. Now come on, let’s go get some booze in you.”

“Okay,” you hum, re-taking his hand to make the rest of the walk.

You weren’t even in the backyard before you could hear the sound of laughter and chatting, JJ gave you a reassuring smile and lead you around the side of the house to where they were sat. Kiara had her legs thrown over Pope’s lap, a joint in hand, John B was sipping on a beer and talking with Pope and Sarah was on her phone next to him. Very chill.

“The main attraction has arrived!” JJ yelled, getting all their attentions and a glare from you.

“There they are,” Kiara grinned lazily over at the two of you. He lead you closer and she held her hand up in a wave. “I’m Kie, nice to meet you.”

You introduced yourself, giving her a shy smile as John B stood up and threw his arm around your shoulders. “So you’re the girl that JJ’s utterly obsessed with?”

“Uh… I hope so,” you laughed, making the rest of them chuckle too.

“Come sit,” Sarah instructed, tapping the space beside her. “We want to hear all about how JJ is as a boyfriend.”

You looked back at JJ, who gave you a nod. Sarah beamed as you sat down beside her, instantly asking you every question that came to her mind to do with you and JJ; how you met, who initiated the first kiss, what his love language is. After Kie wasn’t quite so high, she came and joined the two of you to get in on the details.

A couple hours had passed, you were having fun with the girls as the three boys listened in every now and then — just to have some extra ammo to tease JJ with later on. It was the time of the night that you were all buzzed and the embarrassing stories had begun.

“He had this serious crush on her, no need to get jealous he was only nine, but he decided the best way to get her attention was dump mud all over her at recess,” John B explained, a wide grin on his face.

You giggled as JJ covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “Did it work?”

“No!” John B exclaimed, chuckling. “She told the teacher on him so he put bugs in her pencil case.”

“What a romantic,” you teased, turning to a red-faced JJ beside you. He flipped you off, and then turned to John B and kept it up.

From that story, more just came to the Pogues. They spent the next excruciating (for JJ) hour telling you everything they could think of. There was the time he got caught pissing in a bush by an elderly couple and tried to explain it away by saying his pants fell down. Sarah was so excited to tell you about him accidentally wearing Kie’s jeans to school after a heavy night that she fell right off her chair.

You were leant against JJ’s shoulder, giggling still. The stories had died down, but every time they replayed in your head you’d fall into a fit of laughter once again.

“They’re all lying,” JJ stated, sipping on his beer with a small smirk.

“We have photographic evidence,” Pope argued, pulling his phone out. JJ was tackling him to the ground in seconds.

You weren’t sure what you’d been so worried about, in reality JJ should have been the one panicking.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Zoro loves to tease you until you cry. Seeing your face glistening from tears really gets him going. What happens when he finally gives you what you want? Afab reader, ~2k words.

CW: Pure smut. Gendered language, e.g. "pretty girl", edging, toys, crying, overstimulation, P in V. Note that this is consensual & no safeword used :3

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

Zoro held a vibrator to your clit at the lowest setting and slowly fucked you with three fingers. His brows were bent, and he was laser focused on the slick dribbling out of you.

For the past two hours, every time you were about to cum he’d turn the vibrator off and pull his fingers out. He was being cruel. You’d gotten to the brink of orgasm no less than 10 times. By the 5th you were begging him to let you cum, and, historically, he’d give in. But today, no matter how much you begged, he just wasn’t listening.

He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.

Hot tears made trails down your cheeks, hooking under your jaw and pooling on your collar bone. Zoro’s cock twitched at the sight. He loved to see you like this, drooling, begging for his cock, so worked up from his fingers that you started to cry in frustration. Every sob made him feel like he was on fire, every tear coaxed more precum out of his tip.

This was like a sport to him. He got off on seeing you unravel from his fingertips, fully broken down in pleasure. When your eyes got glossy, teary, and you could barely talk, he knew he was doing it right.

Zoro took the vibrator off your clit and left his fingers in you, unmoving. His hand was a mess—your arousal coated every finger and his whole palm, glistening around his wrist and dripping onto the covers.

“Zoro, please,” you pleaded for the millionth time, voice cracking. ��Wanna cum, please.”

Blinking through the blurry drops of your tears and batting your eyelashes for visibility, you could see Zoro’s sickeningly sweet smile. “I know you do, sweetheart. But you gotta hang in there.”

“Zoro,” you tried to wiggle around on his fingers for friction. You needed him to move. You were going fucking crazy.

He tutted and pulled his fingers out of you, a sticky string connecting his fingertips to your puffy, red lips. You gasped at the emptiness, exasperated beyond words. You couldn’t think straight, and the tears wouldn’t stop.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Can’t you keep going?” He was frowning.

You didn’t want to disappoint him. But you were reaching your limit. More desperate tears seeped out of the corners of your eyes.

Sucking his fingers clean, Zoro then cupped your face with both hands and kissed you tenderly. The kisses were salty from your tears.

He wiped under your eyes with both thumbs, swiping away the frustration. “You poor thing. I’ll put my cock in you, ok? But you have to ask really nicely this time.”

You nodded vigorously. “Please Zoro, please fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please.”

He sighed and frowned again. “Don’t you need it more than that?”

Tears welled in your eyes again. He was being downright ruthless. You had asked nicely. Really nicely. But it wasn’t enough.

“Zoro, fuck” you sobbed. “’M going crazy. I’ll do anything. P-please fuck me. Please.”

He brought a hand down to lazily stroke himself for a moment while he stared into your cock-crazed eyes. He loved it when you were pathetic like this, when you were shameless.

Tanned skin rippled as Zoro’s rough hand twisted over the head of his cock, grazing the sensitive spots on and under his head. Precum oozed out of his inflamed slit, every drop evidence of how badly he wanted you.

He leaned close to your face and practically growled. “When I fuck you, you have to promise not to cum unless I say so. Either that or I won’t fuck you at all.”

His threat made you feel fucking feral. You didn’t care at this point, and you would agree to anything. “Zoro, I promise. Just fuck me.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow and then positioned you exactly how he liked, in some sort of mating press. One hand held your thigh up, fingerpads digging into your plush flesh. The other was braced on the bed next to you. He lined his cock up with your entrance and took a deep breath. Your eyes were lust-filled, hungry, and almost rabid. His heart skipped a beat.

Pushing through your folds as slowly as he could, he could feel your walls starting to clamp down on his cock. You were so wet that it felt like heaven to him—slippery, velvety, and warm. When he bottomed out, he let out a lengthy groan. “Fuuucccck.”

Finally, Zoro’s hips rocked and grinded into you. Every shove of his cock felt electric. Each bundle of nerves that his tip and shaft dragged over sent waves and tingles of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards to every limb. Your toes were already curling with pleasure.

Zoro had been waiting for this moment. He made you ready enough for his cock, and now he was going to fuck you into oblivion.

His girthy, veiny cock pushed out and in, and each pass attacked your g-spot. Your back was arching, you keened his name continuously, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You had completely lost yourself, forgetting what was going on or who you were; you only knew one thing—Zoro’s cock.

Orgasm approached within minutes. He could tell from the way you started to shudder around him and the way your thighs started to tremble. He frowned again and held still.

“Baby, I said you can’t cum unless I say so.”

“Zoro, ‘m so close, please.”

“Don’t you want to be good for me?”

Once again, you started to cry. It was almost worse now that he was fully fucking you but dangling your orgasm in front of your face. Any time you tried to get it, he’d yank it out of reach. He was sadistic about it. But really, what could you expect? It was naive to think that he’d let you cum right off the bat.

“I wanna be good,” you sobbed quietly, and your fingers clawed half-moons into his biceps. Your tortured eyes met his. Zoro was looking at you like he was going to devour you. Like he’d rip out each morsel of pleasure and then leave you for good. It felt like he was using you, but you knew that he was doing it with your own interest in mind. Any time he got heartless like this, your orgasm almost made you faint.

“I-I’ll be so good, Zoro. Please. I’ll wait. I promise.”

“That’s my girl,” he groaned at your words and tears. He fucked you again, slower this time, pressing more of his weight on your thigh that he was holding up. His other hand passed up your body, travelling from your hips to your breasts.

Greedy hands massaged and squeezed. Fingertips brushed over your sensitive buds gently. Pulling and pinching them, he rolled one nipple softly and then harder until you whined and your eyes fluttered.

“Doing such a good job for me, pretty girl. Keep takin’ my cock like that and I’ll let you cum.”

You whimpered as he fucked you so deeply that his cock hit your cervix. It hurt, but the pain was overrun by the gigantic waves of pleasure elicited from your cunt any time Zoro’s head snagged over your hot gooey spot.

“Just like that,” he murmured quietly, coming as close to your face as he could. Your walls throbbed and clenched around him, squeezing out his precum and swallowing his shaft. “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”

“Zoro, ’m getting close,” you mewled. Everything about you intoxicated him. Whenever your tits bounced from his thrusts, whenever you scrunched your nose up from him fucking you too deep, those damp cheeks from your tears moments ago… You had been good for him. You’d let out enough needy whimpers, too. You earned it.

“Let it out. Cream on my cock, sweetheart. Show me how much you love it.”

As soon as you registered his permission, you came. You screamed his name, convulsed and spasmed under him, throwing your head back with euphoria. It felt like you orgasmed for minutes. Your juices gushed out around the base of his cock and he moaned at the sensation.

It was foolish of you to assume he would be done after that.

Of course, his hips kept grinding into yours through your orgasm. You started to squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you whimpered. “’s too much.”

“No, it’s not.” He cooed and purred in your ear. “I know you’ve got another for me. No matter how much you writhe, I’m still going to fuck you through it.”

More tears. It felt like he was pressing a button in you that made you wince from overstimulation and pleasure. “Z-zoro, fuck, it’s—it’s too much, Zoro.” You struggled and contorted around his cock. It felt too good, the sensation was too overwhelming, you wanted it to stop but at the same time it was addictive.

“Stay still for me.” He put all his weight on you, and you continued to writhe for a second before you did what he said. Your eyes were fucked-out and hazy, barely sentient of what was happening other than pleasure. His hips rolled with each squelching sound that echoed in the room. Slowly, your cunt started to pulse again.

“Does it feel good now, princess? You like it when I stuff you full of my cock?” Zoro was starting to get riled up. Each hump and thrust goaded feverish desire.

“You’re milking my cock so well, baby. Pussy feels so good.” Every nasty word he rasped in your ear burned.

As Zoro’s peak built, yours did too. He wanted to time it so you came at the same time—though he could be a sadist, he was also a romantic. To climax together was something sweet that he put the utmost effort into.

He praised and encouraged you as much as he could muster. He choked out a word between each grunt. “Doing—so—good—for—me— fuck.”

Zoro reached a hand to rub his fingers in circles over your clit. The noises you produced were guttural and primal—it’s like pleasure was exploding in you. He pressed down with his thumb, hard, and you gasped his name.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum on my cock. Wanna feel it.”

Your second orgasm was pure ecstasy. Zoro wrenched it from your core, ripped it out of you like the animal he was. When you started to shake, his hips jerked into you, haphazard and frenzied.

“F-fuck, fuck, your pussy is—so good, fuck, ‘m cumming, fuuuccckkkk.” He came, cocked twitching, seeing stars. You could feel him filling you up, hot and sticky.

Completely losing touch with the world, your orgasm literally crushed your sense of reality. You blacked out for a couple seconds, and by the time you were cognizant again, Zoro’s cum was leaking out of your cunt. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. Sweat matted his hair down around his temples, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was ruffled up and he was a mess. “Fucking hell, babe.”

Zoro may have been the one feigning control during your sessions of arduous orgasm denial, crying, and fucking, but in reality, you pulled the strings. He wouldn’t have the experience he wanted, and you wouldn’t have the experience he wanted for you, if you didn’t play along too. Zoro knew this, and he was grateful that you’d humor him, grateful that you cherished his intimacy enough to entertain hours of edging, crying, and nasty fucking. Sharing an experience like this and simultaneously respecting the other’s vulnerability was something precious to him.

Aftercare for him was a different sport entirely. And like everything he did, Zoro was determined to become the best. He sprinkled your face with ticklish kisses, replacing the tears that were there minutes ago with love.

that’s all for this one!! thank u sm for reading :D here’s my masterlist and my October posting schedule.

also for giggles - trick or treat? (both tumblr links heh)

[januaryembrs]

oblivious!reader x downbad!spencer who’s not even nervous to flirt with reader anymore cuz she just doesn’t get it (probs older episodes spence)

CLUELESS | Spencer Reid x reader

description: Spencer's got a crush, too bad you're entirely clueless to his dilemma. (S3!Spencer in mind)

length 1.2k

At first he’d thought it was the world’s gentlest form of rejection, how you would dodge his questions, barely bat an eye at him laying himself bare for you, thought that maybe you were pretending not to see the way his hands shook and voice quivered to save him some face. 

“I-I was wondering if you wanted to go see Zodiac at the movie theatre?” He stammered, obsessively tucking his hair behind his ear because it felt like it was ticking his cheeks, or perhaps that was just some residual sweat gathering on his temple because you were just so pretty when you looked at him like that, your eyes wide and excited, waiting for him to finish speaking because you always loved to listen to him, “I was thinking we could try comparing it to the actual case and figure out how accurate their hollywood version of it is,” 

Your face lit up like the fourth of July, and your smile was blinding, “Oh, I love the movies! It’s going to be so fun, Spence!” You chirped, whirling around in your desk chair to meet Emily’s bored stiff expression as she scrolled through her computer, “Em, Spencer wants us to go see Zodiac, you in?” 

Spencer paled, because that was not what he’d meant by we whatsoever. It wasn’t that he held anything against Emily, nor JJ or Penelope as they were quickly roped into the plans as well, he just hadn't had them in mind when he thought to ask you out on a date. From what he could tell you hadn’t escaped spending time with him alone on purpose. He just hadn’t quite been specific in his question, it was an easy mistake to make. 

But you looked so excited as you organised who was getting what snacks, quickly dibsing the seat slap bang in the middle of everyone so you wouldn’t feel like anyone got left out. He thought his chest stuttered when you grabbed his hand and asked if you could sit with him since he’d remember the most about the original case, and you’d need his big brain for the little game he had planned. 

Spencer agreed, instead of trying to make it clear what he’d meant by his original question, because he hated disappointing people and the other girls seemed just as thrilled to go see the movie as you were. It wasn’t until Morgan slapped him on the back with a chuckle, having watched the whole thing from his own desk that Spencer felt truly dumb. 

“You’re going to have to try better than that, pretty boy,” He exclaimed, and Spencer bit his lip in thought, “Try asking her to do something in a way that leaves no room for confusion, girls like it when you’re direct,” 

And he nodded vehemently, because dating advice from Morgan was usually sound and bulletproof, how else would would he have garnered the ladies man reputation?

Direct, he could be direct. Sure, Spencer could be direct. 

He swallowed heavily just thinking about it. 

–

“These are for you,” Spencer jumped in before you could get sidetracked by chatting his ear off about the squirrel you’d nearly ran over on your way to work, and your expression flitted into surprise. 

He handed you the big bunch of pink roses and baby’s breath, and your mouth cracked into a smile immediately. “Oh, Spencer, these are beautiful, you shouldn’t have. My birthday’s not for another week,” 

“And I booked us a table at that Thai place on your block that you always get- wait birthday?” Spencer stumbled over his script, the words he’d been practising all morning coming to an effective halt as he realised once again his intentions had flown right over your head. And yet before he could set his record straight, just like you had last time, you’d jumped at the chance of spending time with him without understand just what you were agreeing to. 

“I love Thai food, that’s so thoughtful of you, Spence,” You said, hopping up out of your chair to give him a bear hug around his lithe waist, the flowers still tightly in the palm of your hand. He reciprocated, even if his expression was a terrible mix of frustration and confusion. 

It was like someone had cast some sort of spell over his words so that he’d never be able to ask you out on a date, like he was trying to speak in a dream, the words never really coming out. You weren’t dumb, not by any means, you could be a little naive sometimes, but never cruel. Spencer had no idea what the answer was. He guessed he was right back at square one.

–

“I don’t know man, I tried asking her to the movies, she thought it was a group thing. I tried taking her out for dinner, she thought it was for her birthday, I even asked if she wanted to come over to mine and she thought I meant a sleepover. What’s romantic about pillow forts?” Spencer sighed, leaning his head into his palm as he watched you swan around the office without a single inkling of his affections, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had fun at every one of them, but I just want there to be more. Maybe she just doesn’t feel the same,” 

“Don’t lose hope, pretty boy,” Derek comforted, the seemingly appointed love Guru that had had to witness two weeks of Spencer’s advances get sidelined. He followed Reid’s gaze to where you hummed a song to yourself as you collected files from Emily’s desk to take them over to your own. He bit his lip in thought, “I don’t think it’s personal, honest, I don’t think she means anything by it. You just need to be clearer,” 

“Clearer?” Spencer said with raised brows, using a single prod of his converse to swivel himself around to face you, and your expression perked into a smile just from seeing him. Derek watched the two of you closely, his theory all but game set and match as you seemed genuinely excited to see their resident genius who was convinced there was nothing there, “That shirt is really cute on you. It makes your eyes look really pretty,” Spencer said, in his most direct tone possible, because the nervousness seemed to dissipate when he knew you wouldn’t pick up on his intentions. The only sign you’d heard him at all was the way your fingers ruffled his hair affectionately. 

“Aw, thank you, Spencer,” You said, a little bounce in your step as you passed his desk to your own, running a gentle hand over his arm, where his blue striped shirt bunched around his biceps, “I like your purple one the best, but this one’s quite handsome too,” You replied, grabbing the other wad of papers from your drawer without much of a reaction and heading up the stairs to Hotch’s office, and he turned back to Morgan, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

Morgan laughed, shaking his head and yanking his cup of coffee towards him, “She’ll figure it out some day, lover boy. I give it a month, tops,” 

And Spencer huffed, wheeling himself back to his desk, his eyes naturally trailing up to the large window that divided them from Hotch’s personal space, the two of you discussing something jovially as if you were none the wiser to his internal predicament. 

He made a note to wear his purple shirt more often.

[mywritersmind]

Can you write some fake dating with lando pretty please🥹

HATE ME - LN4

listen up : no warnings!! hope you enjoy bc i got stuck on this so bad😘 lando x popstar!reader

word count : 1886

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Y/n!” A reporter yells at me as I walk up the paddock, “Y/n! What are you doing?”

I slow down and laugh a bit, “Looking for my boyfriend!”

“What’s your thoughts with him coming off a win, think he can swing it?” I roll my eyes playfully.

“I certainly think he can! America has been great to him before.” They laugh, knowing I'm not just talking about his win but also myself.

“How about your upcoming album!?” A woman asks, my mood already improving, “Any details you can share?”

I’m about to respond when I feel arms wrap around my waist, “Hi pretty.” He says in my ear but just loud enough to be heard.

I smile and brush my hand against his arm, “Lan!”

He looks up at the reporters, pointing to them, “You lot back off! She’s my good luck charm this weekend!”

We walk away, I glance up to Lando’s face to see him smiling. I can’t help but be surprised for the millionth time, he’s a damn good actor.

The second we get inside, doors shut and nobody around, Lando drops his hands off me. “Hi Pretty.” I mock his accent as he rolls his eyes.

My fake boyfriend strides across the room, grabbing his water bottle. He's in a Mclaren shirt and jeans, his curls perfect and defined.

“You really need to stop swerving my lips when we’re in public.” I plop down on the couch and try to tune him out, it doesn’t work. “People are starting to notice.”

I text my manager back as he complains, “I’ve never shown any PDA with my ex’s. You’re not special, Norris.”

I ignore the way his bicep moves when he pushes off the couch, “Well I have.”

“You don’t think regular couples settle on my side for this? I didn’t think you were thirsting for me that much.”

He scoffs and I know I got him there, “I’m just saying! It’s not normal.”

“Of course you’d think that, all you and your ex’s did was make out in public!” His manager walks in just then before he can respond.

Point, Y/n.

“Will you two keep it down?” He groans, “Just because you argue like an old married couple, doesn’t mean it fits your roles! Lando, it’s media time.”

“Talk about me.” I mumble as he walks out.

“Can I announce our breakup?” He eyes me before shutting the door. I breathe out, just trying to get through this weekend.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

P1 in qualifying, great. I act all happy and actually kiss him this time. I don’t agree with the majority of what he says but even my manager told me I need to do a tiny bit more.

Lando and I’s… agreement, is complicated and completely necessary for our careers. I’m rising to fame and he’s falling in the dumps with all his media scares.

After a mini scandal broke about me, Lando and I met. We were drunk and totally out of depth. He told the paparazzi outside the bar that we were dating and I had kissed him like I believed it.

Everything went up in flames but through the fire our teams decided to come up with this whole fake dating thing. I make him look good, the unproblematic, pretty, popstar. He added an edge to me and brought quite a few new fans.

But most of all, after his lie to the public was splashed over every media surface, the picture of my lips against his, I couldn’t just back out. He would have looked like a player (because he was one) and I would have been labeled a slut.

So now i’m at the paddock every weekend, planning my own shows and sporting him in the crowd. My fans eat it up though, he’s hot, rich and british.

Lando doesn’t listen to his brain before his mouth opens and once when someone asked what he thought about my performance he replied with, “She’s insane and beautiful and way too talented to be my girlfriend.” That sealed it for everyone.

He kisses my cheek, winking. He’s not all bad, even though I can’t really stand him it’s not like he’s disrespectful or rude to me.

Lando gets pulled away for media and I find myself watching his interview with Alexandra, Charles’ girlfriend. We’re not watching our ‘boyfriends’ at all, gossiping about the celebrities that are coming this weekend.

⋆｡˚⋆

LANDOS POV

The reporter is saying things but I’m distracted. My eyes keep wandering past the man in front of me and going to my ‘girlfriend’.

She’s talking to Alex, flipping his hair over her shoulder and grinning. She never smiles like that with me.

I answer another question but it’s half assed and I don’t really care. I watch her jaw move as she talks, how she jumps up and down when she’s talking about something she loves, she crosses her ankles and pinches the bridge of her nose.

I’m suddenly feeling very left out of the conversation and don’t realize the reporter is repeating my name, “Lando?” I rip my eyes away from her a he looks to what I was looking at.

He’s smiling when he turns back to me, “Distracted… Sorry.” I scratch the back of my back, looking down and smiling as the man laughs.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/NS POV

What is he playing at? I’ve been tagged in a million clips of Lando’s interview. The way he looked at me- fuck! He’s so confusing I hate him.

This weekend has felt forever long and it’s not even over. Lando and I go to a little house party, weird for the day before a race but none of the guys seem bothered by it.

In fact, everyone’s having fun. It’s like watching impending doom, knowing they’re all about to mess with each other on the track.

Lando obviously isn’t drinking and since he’s driving, I down a glass with Alex and Lily as soon as I step in the door.

Someone has rented an airbnb and it’s gorgeous. Not too big, but a nice fire in the back and a huge living room.

“I’m gonna go talk to Carlos.” Lando’s hand drifts off me as he walks away. I barely even realized his touch, I'm getting too comfortable with it.

“Girl!” Rebecca, Carlos’ girlfriend, says to me, “I’ve never seen Lando this in love!” The only people who know Lando and I aren’t actually together is Alex, Lily, Alexandra, possibly Charles, Oscar, and Carlos.

Lily and Alex sip their drinks beside me as I blink, pausing for too long. I laugh and smile, “You’re sweet.”

“I’m serious!” She continues, “Those eyes, it’s unmistakable!” Something about it makes me sad. Because Lando doesn’t actually like me at all? Or because whenever I get a glimpse of that look, it’s always in public?

Lily changes the subject with remarkable speed, Alex hands me another drink and I sigh a thank you.

The night goes on, it’s slow and nice to have a simple sort of get together instead of how Lando likes to party.

Speaking of, my fake boyfriend dances up to me as I laugh out of embarrassment, he takes my hand and pulls me outside. I look back to Alexandra who just shrugs and watches me leave.

I smile at Lily who’s sitting on Alex’s lap. I sit next to Lando around the fire, I'm getting tired and a bit tipsy. I rest my head on his shoulder as everyone talks.

I can’t think about why he brought me over here. It’s not like I’m contributing to the conversation in a big way.

“What!? Lily was my idol before I got into F1!” I agree with her, she claims I didn’t like her but I was following her for months!

“You were so intimidating!” She shakes her head.

“You are intimidating.” Lando speaks up as I eye him. Lily’s eyes flicks down to my hand then my face then back to my hand.

I give her a confused look before glancing at my hand, Lando’s fingers are stretched over it, spinning my own ring around my middle finger.

I avoid Lily’s eyes as I look up at Lando, “Excuse me?”

“You are!” he argues, “The first time we met I was scared shitless.” I shake my head and finish my drink, my body warm and buzzing.

Charles and Carlos both laugh as Carlos speaks, “Fuck I remember that! At that club? He had like five shots to hype himself up.”

The firelight shines on Lando’s face as his cheeks go pink, “Worked a bit too well.” I find a small smile on my face. I never knew that.

People slowly start leaving, Alex and Lily leave us outside to help cleanup. His hand leaves mine, I rest my arms under my head, leaning on his chair as he looks down at me.

“Saw you talking to Franco…” He slyly mentions.

“What now, Norris, you jealous?” His jaw ticks.

“Just saying it’s not a good look for my girlfriend to be flirting with someone on the grid. Or anyone at all.”

“Sounds pretty jealous to me!” I hum as he shakes his head, “Gonna win tomorrow?” I ask.

“Maybe.” He shrugs.

“For me?” I am definitely not in my head correctly.

He bites back a smirk, keeping eye contact, “What do I get if I win?”

He's teasing me and I like it far too much, “What do you want?”

I almost miss it. I would have if I didn’t keep eye contact. But something appears on Lando’s face… something familiar and that I thought was fake.

That fucking look.

Except now we’re away from everybody else, I’m the only one who can see his face and it makes me feel sick. He’s got a soft smile on, brushing my hair out of my face, his touch burning me.

I sit up straight, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He smirks, clearly amused.

“You hate me!” I’m confused and angry and that damn smile isn’t helping.

He gives an airy laugh before his smile dims, his tongue running over his teeth before his eyes flick back up to mine, “No I don’t.”

I frown, “You’re supposed to!”

He shakes his head, “Why would I hate you?”

I groan, putting my face in my hands, “Because you’re in this mess because of me! I wrote a song about you.” I see his blink, the pause in his emotion as if he’s trying to figure me out. “And i’m angry! Because I didn’t want this and I didn’t want you!” I vent, “So you can’t like me now because I’ll feel bad!”

He blinks, once, twice, “Okay. I hate you.” He says it with zero emotion.

“For as good an actor as you are… that didn’t sound very convincing.” I pout and he laughs.

“I’m not a good actor, love.” I suddenly feel sobered.

“Hate me, Lando. That would make this a lot easier.” I’m mad at him. I can’t do this with him looking at me like that.

He tilts his head a bit, his jaw moving, a curl perfectly in his face. He says it with ease and a newfound softness in his voice, “How could I ever hate you?”

[elysianightsss]

Pen Pal Price Part Two🫧🍑

nsfw ahead so I’ll cut it off at that point…reader is also described as chubby below because I am so they are too lol.

-

His voice startles you to the point where you visibly flinch, it’s nothing like how you imagined it to be. First of all, you didn’t know he was British. The accent that wraps around his words so sharply is one you recognise but can’t quite put your finger on in this moment.

His voice is deep, rumbles out somewhere from within his chest. It vibrates through the phone and through you. For him your honeyed voice drips into him like the sweetest summer wine.

“Sound so pretty.” You hear him mutter, barely a whisper but definitely something he was trying to hide. Your cheeks burn as you blush hard, your bottom lip caught between your teeth while you think of what to say to the man you’ve been writing to for weeks on end.

So many words exchanged and yet now you’re at a loss. Can’t think properly, it begs the question; how will you react when you meet in person?

“I haven’t got long, I guess now’s the time I tell you what I do for a living.” He chuckles lightly and you wish you could see his face while he does.

“Sounds intriguing.” You frown though your face is still smile stricken.

“Oh you bet it is love. Very dangerous, rough. I don’t think you’d want to hear about it.”

“Excuse me good sir, I live for danger. Did I not tell you how I dangerously painted the spare bedroom the other day? Though I don’t think it went well.” You joked looking over at the room that was half done and had paint streaks pointing in all different directions.

“Are you doubting your mad painting skills?” Your heart soared at the joke, at his laugh, just all of this. Being able to speak to him properly, being able to communicate more easily without waiting a whole week for his response to arrive by post. Shifting through the mail everyday desperate to read his words. You hadn’t felt this happy in years.

“Maybe just a little.” There’s a pause, and you think you hear some background chatter, something about unit leaving and someone definitely says captain, “maybe you could help me?”

“I definitely will.” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer, it’s so sure and so final. It says a lot about him. You’re desperate to know more. “I’m sorry love, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time?”

And he does, you lunge for the phone practically jumping through the air to answer him. You chat about useless things, have silly little conversations about everyday life. There are days when you think it’s his day off work, those days he stays on the phone to you for hours. Those days are your favourite.

He tells you about the new book he got and even reads you a few chapters while you cook dinner, he makes you promise to cook him a meal sometime. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Again he loves the domesticity of it all, how prefect you are in his eyes, though his ocean blues haven’t actually seen you yet. What a perfect little wife you would make. He knows it’s far too soon to think about things like that but he cannot help himself.

The way you fly away with yourself, talking about what you’re doing that day or joking about something you saw on tv or giggling about the cupcakes you were making because the icing went wrong making what you piped look like pigs instead of the unicorns you were going for, for you niece’s birthday party.

He listens with his eyes closed, dreaming of the day he comes back from deployment. The day he comes back to you, to home smelling of freshly baked goods. His pretty lady waiting for him all smiles and giggles. He wishes.

“Um..” you pause unsure, wondering what if he says no.

“What is it love?” He asks so worried. So ready to fix any problem you throw his why. Once again though you hesitate and once more he encourages you, “Come on pretty lady, tell me. What’s up?” You let the nickname you’ve reprimanded him about numerous times slide with what you’re about to ask.

“D-Did you want t-to video call?” He grins at how fucking adorable you are. The way you stutter just asking a simple question like that. He bites back a groan at the way he stiffens in his trousers. Dirty old man.

“I would love to.” He of course then had to explain he had a flip phone. You laughed hard at him and said he would need a smartphone. You had no idea he would go and buy one just to video call you with. Another thing you reprimand him for, spending his hard earned money so easily like that. His little lady nagging him, and all he does is smile at the sound. He loves it.

Your heart hammers in your chest as the phone rings. A lot like the first time he called you. You had talked him through the set up and helped him understand what an app is and how to call on text on a smart phone. And finally, you told him how to video call. Which app to press, you were just explaining how it works when your phone begins to buzz with ‘John💕 is FaceTime you’ popping up on the screen. Your number of course being the first one he added.

You can’t help but feel nervous, checking you look semi okay on the screen before pressing the green answer button. Then your breath is knocked out of you so hard you actually choke, John fussing about getting some water and breathing for him goes in one ear and out the other. You can’t look away from him even as you catch your breath.

He’s nothing like you pictured and yet he’s perfect.

He looks like the kind of man you picture when you read romance novels and the kind of man that sneaks into the dreams that have you waking up hot under the collar and panties sticking to you uncomfortably. The little description of himself you asked for certainly did not do him justice.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” Even though you frown, you can’t stop a smile from splitting your face.

You’ve got chubbier cheeks and thicker thighs than most girls, something you’re insecure about and john can tell. But fuck you look gorgeous to him. Over the next few weeks John catches on to just how badly you feel about your body image, the way you put yourself down in favour of supermodels, the way you wear oversized clothing to cover yourself up. He finds himself grumbling, hating it each second more than the last.

He understands how badly beauty culture has fucked over women who are genuinely beautiful but are made to feel like they’re nothing. He gets it, he does. But he certainly doesn’t agree. Especially not with you. He finds himself dreaming of those squishable cheeks of yours, the way you’re so soft around the edges, he can tell.

You completely did him in last Monday, it’s the middle of winter for goodness sake, how did he know that you’d be wearing shorts when he FaceTimed you. Gym shorts that hugged your plump ass so fucking perfectly, that flashed your thick thighs to him. Christ, he’s been thinking about those pretty thighs all week long. When he’s running drills, your thighs are on his mind. When he’s planning out a mission with his unit, your thighs are on his mind. And when he’s alone at night with his hand wrapped around his swollen cock, your thighs are on his mind.

He can’t stand it anymore, it’s been agonising with how busy he’s been not calling you, not seeing you or hearing your voice. No knowing what you’ve been up to or how your day has gone. He calls and he praises the Lord above for bringing you to him, when you answer. A prayer on his lips, a beg for you to become his wife one day when you’re there smiling in the cutest silk pyjama set he’s ever seen. It hugs you exquisitely, showing off your rounded edges and all John can think about is how he can’t wait to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your tummy.

You’re clearly fresh out the shower or bath with your damp hair and freshly wash face, but John’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, in fact he tells you so. You haven’t felt your cheeks burn the way they did then, well maybe one other occasion.

“Love?”

“Yes John?”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? At that cafe you like?” He’s hopeful when he asks, you can not only hear it in his voice but see it in his face. “I’m in the area for work and have a few days where I’m free and I’d love to see you.”

You can’t recall a time in your life where all you did was smile, but since you found John, you don’t remember what not smiling all the time was like. You don’t remember anything other than how happy he makes you. So you take a breath, you muster up the courage and say yes.

“I’d love to see you too John. Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.”

[smileysuh]

forget him

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

tw/cw. recent breakup, fingering, Hyuck walks in while y/n is masturbating, masturbation, assisted masturbation, toy/dildo use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, reader has multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, big dick Hyuck, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, talking about y/n's ex while they fuck, marking/claim kink, full/breeding kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.1k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. When I tell you I need to be demolished by this Hyuck-

Hyuck absolutely hates seeing you like this. 

He’d thought it had been hard seeing you in love with his best friend Mark Lee, but seeing you in the throws of depression after your recent breakup takes the cake for Hyuck when it comes to him having a straight up horrible time.

Obviously, you have it worse, and he’s not trying to contest that fact- he just hadn’t realized that when the thing he’d been hoping for actually came to pass- it would feel this bad. 

In the dark reaches of his mind, he wonders if he’d had something to do with the separation, although, in truth, he knows that’s ridiculous. He’d been as supportive as a friend and roommate could be about you and Mark. He’d forced smiles and words of encouragement when you’d gushed through the talking phase. He’d found ways to ditch the apartment when you and Mark started to get physical, doing his best to give you privacy while getting high as a kite at Lee Jeno’s place to distract himself from the fact that you were getting railed by someone other than him. And now, he supposes, he’s doing his due diligence in making you feel better when you’re at your worst.

Hyuck’s doing the best he can to make things easy for you. He’s set up movie days, and he’s made you ramen. He’s allowed you to shuffle closer to him on the couch, even resting your head on his shoulder any time you start to tear up. He’s paused films to listen to you explain things like “When Mark and I watched this, he would always get so excited when Totoro would show up” or “Mark hated No Face.” 

He wonders if doing a Ghibli marathon is the best idea, given how much you associate it with Mark, but when he’d asked you about it and you insisted you would feel better watching the films, he’d left it at that.

You’re your own person, and Hyuck’s always trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself… even when he doesn’t agree with them.

Cuddled next to you on your living room couch, Hyuck does his best just to be there for you. He ignores the boys’ group chat messages, where other friends are taking care of Mark. As far as Hyuck’s concerned, he’s team you, all the way, and he always has been.

He notices the way you start to shift next to him, pulling away from his shoulder to stretch your arms over your head.

“You good?” Hyuck asks, looking away from the movie to give you his complete and undivided attention.

“Yeah,” you sigh, frowning slightly. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He studies your face, noticing all the signs of exhaustion- although, to be fair, you’ve been a sleepy wreck of a thing since your breakup two weeks ago.

“I probably should,” you concede, taking another deep breath. “Thanks for making me dinner and watching movies with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyuck says, flashing you a small smile as he straightens in his seat, reaching for the remote to stop the movie.

“You’ve been so nice since… since the whole Mark thing.” He can see you swallowing back tears, and you reach up to wipe your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“That’s what friends are for,” Hyuck assures you, although, his attention toward you has always far surpassed that of a friend. It’s a shame you’ve never realized that fact.

“Just… thanks,” you say again, holding open your arms for a hug that Hyuck is more than happy to give you. 

He adjusts on the couch, leaning forward to scoop you into his arms. Your cheek presses to his shoulder and he breathes in the smell of your fruity body wash. He tries his best not to hug you too hard- because if he did, you might actually realize that every time you hug him, he has no true intention of ever letting you go. 

“Sleep well, okay, gorgeous?” he prompts, stroking your hair and using the petname he’d given you far before you’d ever met Mark. “You really need your rest.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him, giving one last gentle squeeze before you pull away.

Hyuck watches you stand up, your hoodie skimming your mid thigh. He knows you’re wearing sleeping shorts under the oversized fabric, but he can’t help but swallow thickly, imagining what it would be like if you were just in panties.

He really has to get his mind out of the gutter, and Hyuck knows that- he’s been trying to, in all honesty he has- but it’s been four years of knowing you, one of living together, and he still can’t manage to keep his thoughts PG. 

With one last small smile, you turn and begin to shuffle to your room.

He misses your lively movements. The first night you’d moved in together, you’d had a small dance party together, and Hyuck’s always been adamant that no one’s hips move like yours do. 

He misses your joy. The way you sparkle when you’re happy. You used to smile like a kid in a candy shop anytime you watched your favourite movies or ate the ramen he’d made for you, but these days, the most you can muster is a small upquirk of the sides of your lips.

Hyuck wants to make you smile again. He’s just not sure how to do it. 

He knows you need time. Time heals all wounds, or so they say. He just wishes he could fast track your recovery.

Your bedroom door shuts and the spell of watching you is broken. Hyuck takes a deep breath, looking around the messy living room. There are blankets and pillows strewn all over, take out boxes from your day inside, tissues from when you’d cried. 

He’s not generally known to be the cleanest man around town, but Hyuck feels that in times like these, the least he can do is keep things tidy. He’s sure you’ll feel better to come out of your room every morning to a nice apartment, so he begins his work of collecting water cups and take away boxes. 

You’ve definitely lost your spark, and Hyuck thinks maybe he has too. He’s used to playing music loudly, using it as energy at all hours of the day, but tonight, while he cleans, he keeps things quiet. His head is full, and his ears are on edge, paying attention to the sounds coming from your room.

In those first days after the breakup, he’d heard you crying a lot, and he’s sure that barging into your room to give you a hug had cheered you up. He’s hoping it won’t be necessary today. 

As much as he loves hugging you, seeing you cry always makes him feel like someone is trying to tear open his chest and clench his heart. It’s an ache he doesn’t enjoy.

When you’d moved in together, he’d decided that as a girl - with monthly girl issues - you should have the bigger room with the connected bathroom, and he listens to the sound of you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. 

You begin to hum something, and Hyuck realizes it’s the first time he’s heard you sing since your breakup. 

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

Hyuck has moved all the clutter to the kitchen, and he begins to put stuff in the garbage and dishwasher while he listens to you hum. He thinks about the day you met, at uni orientation. He’d never become friends with someone so fast in his life, and when you’d discovered you had three of five classes together- well, he’s never looked back, not for one second.

He wonders how things would be different if he’d ever manned up and told you how he felt- how he feels- how his affection for you has only been growing and growing- 

Hyuck finds himself heading to the fridge and taking out a beer. He hasn’t been drinking much since you and Mark broke up, hasn’t needed the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, so when he takes a large swig, he finds that it immediately takes the edge off. 

He can’t be thinking about wifing you up right now- no matter how much he might wish to.

Although… as he leans against the sink and downs the can, grabbing another, he begins to wonder if offering himself up to you as a distraction really would be the worst thing in the world. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be the way he’d want to start things with you- but maybe he could make you fall in love with him and forget all about Mark Lee. However, in all honesty, he’d probably be risking your friendship. 

He’s played this mind game with himself too many times before, and Hyuck always finds himself at a stalemate. Frustration bubbles up inside and he looks out at the living room, determined to set himself back on the task of cleaning.

Hyuck throws the pillows onto the couch, and he even begins to fold up a blanket, and that’s when he hears a familiar sound.

You’ve never been the type to seek much affection, especially when you’re in your room, so whenever he’s caught you crying, it’s always started with a whimper.

What Hyuck’s just heard was definitely a whimper, and his whole body surges with white-hot, electric energy, his eyes darting to your door. His breath catches, and he tosses the blanket down to the ground, frozen as he waits for another sound of distress. 

A small gasp can be heard under the crack of your door, and Hyuck’s body bolts into action. He’s moving so fast he stumbles a little over his own feet just as he reaches your room, and he wonders if drinking two beers was a good idea. His hand lands on your door, and he knocks aggressively.

“You okay in there, gorgeous?” he calls.

“I’m fine!” you respond, but there’s definitely an edge to your voice. 

He can tell something is wrong- can tell you’re lying to him, and in a split second, Hyuck is making a decision. 

“I’m coming in.”

You let out a small squeak of surprise, tearing your hand away from the toy still lodged inside of you so you can pull the blankets up around your shoulders, jaw dropping as your roommate barges into your room.

“Hyuck!”

He stands in the doorway, studying you, and you can see a look of confusion cross his face. “I thought I heard you crying.”

“I’m not crying!” you insist, core clenching around the dildo. “Get out!” 

Hyuck doesn’t move. “I definitely heard a whimper,” he insists.

Your heart is practically racing in your chest, and you’re very much aware of the pleasurable feeling still thrumming from your core. Cock warming was something you enjoyed doing with Mark, and the fact that you’re cock warming a toy while Hyuck stares at you is having a wholly unexpected effect on your entire body.

“People whimper for all sorts of reasons!” you say dumbly. “Leave!”

Hyuck tilts his head to the side, assessing you again. “You never speak to me like this.”

“You usually don’t just barge in here unannounced!” 

“Yes, I do,” Hyuck points out. “Why’s tonight different?”

“What do you mean-”

“Something is different,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze dips, taking in the blanket still wrapped tightly around your form. “Wait…” you see the exact moment he realizes what you’re up to, and even from a few feet away, you see the way his pupils dilate. “Are you…”

“Hyuck-” you groan, lifting the blankets to hide your face, hoping he can’t see the shame that’s beginning to consume you.

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“Are what?” you ask, deciding to play dumb.

You can hear him scoff, and you peak from under the blanket just in time to see his signature eye roll. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s getting annoyed, and you can feel yourself dripping down your dildo. 

He meets your gaze again. “I didn’t hear a vibrator, so let me guess…” You watch him swallow thickly. “The toy’s still inside of you, isn’t it?”

Curse him for knowing you so well.

Curse him for having a dirty mind.

And maybe most of all, curse yourself for being so stupidly turned on that you can’t even deny what he’s just said. All you can do is groan loudly, hiding again. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“Yes!”

You hear him click his tongue. “Come on, gorgeous. We both know I can tell when you lie to me. We’ve been friends for years, you don’t have to be… ashamed about this.”

But shame is exactly what you’re feeling, and his words don’t help at all. 

“Please, just leave,” you sigh, so embarrassed you think you might actually die.

“What if… what if I helped you out a little?”

His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs.  

“Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.” 

“You’re being crazy.” You peak out at him. “We’re roommates- Mark is one of your best friends-”

“I’ve known you longer and I’m loyal to you,” Hyuck insists firmly. “And besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah? Like what?” you can’t help but laugh a little, and the contraction of your stomach muscles pushes the toy slightly out of your core, making you groan at the loss.

From the look that crosses Hyuck’s face, he obviously notices your sound, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “For one, the fact that you even dated Mark was a little crazy.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“But nice doesn’t fill you up at night. Nice doesn’t make you cum so hard you feel it through your whole body.” Hyuck holds up a hand. “And before you try to tell me Mark was good in bed, remember that I have a room next to yours. Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he can fuck. Not the way you deserve.” 

You shift in your bed, sitting up a little to address your roommate. “Yeah? And how do I deserve to be fucked?” 

“You deserve someone who’s going to worship every inch of you. Someone who’s going to make you cum over and over- make you gush so good you’re begging for it, begging to finally get dicked down so hard you can’t even walk after. Someone who makes you cry for all the right reasons.” 

You stare at Hyuck. 

You’re not even sure what to say. 

He’s never talked like this to you, ever- at least, not in your waking hours.

You’ve had dreams about his sharp tongue, his long fingers, and his big cock- but never gave credence to your lustful fantasies. Hyuck’s always just been a friend- 

“Why now?” you find yourself asking. “After all this time-”

“I’m tired of watching you hurt over something I might be able to help you fix.”

“So cock is the fix to a broken heart?” 

“Gorgeous, I think we both know that what I’m offering you is more than cock.”

“Right, I’m guessing tongue and fingers-”

Hyuck gives you an unimpressed look. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“That I’m super into you? That I’ve been into you since we met? That it killed me to watch you be with Mark when I knew you should have been with me?” 

“Hyuck-” you breathe, feeling even more whiplash from these words than his dirty talk.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything about that stupid feels shit, just… just let me take care of you tonight.”

“What if we regret it?” You press your thighs together, keeping the toy just inside of you while you begin to fidget with your blanket. “What if it ruins our friendship?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question for years,” Hyuck admits. “But… after looking at you now- I really don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m about to make you cum so hard you forget about every other man in your life.”

“Promise?”

He nods. “Promise.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hyuck lets out a small laugh. “So… you going to lift those covers and let me see what I’m dealing with or…?”

“God,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I call you gorgeous for a reason, don’t I?” Hyuck grins. “Come on, I wanna see.”

You grab at the blankets, taking a deep breath. Then you start to move them off your body.

Your roommate watches your every movement, dipping his head to focus as you lift the fabric covering your feet, then your calves-

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hyuck admits. “I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.” 

His words make your stomach erupt in butterflies, and you feel the toy still half wedged in your core. “Should I… should I remove the dildo first?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see that too.” His eyes meet yours. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so fucking hot, I’m already hard.”

He reaches a hand down to cup the front of his sweatpants, and you realize he’s not lying. You can see the impressive print of his cock pressing against the fabric, and it makes your mouth water. It also gives you the confidence to fully reveal yourself to his hungry eyes, and the moment he sees you, Hyuck lets out a deep groan.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Hyuck says, letting out a deep breath. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined.”

His words make you feel shy, and you close your legs, only for Hyuck to press a knee to the bed, both hands reaching out to prompt your thighs back open. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, and there’s an edge to his tone. He’s still being soft with you, his touch gentle, but there’s an obvious hunger rising inside of him. “Tell me about this toy.”

“Well, I uh…” you search for your words. “It’s one of the first ones I ever bought-”

“It’s small,” Hyuck notes, which is kind of funny considering it’s Mark sized. “Can I use it on you?”

“You want to fuck me with the toy?” You blink at your long term friend and roommate.

“Gotta stretch you out to take something bigger.” Hyuck smirks devilishly, and your pussy throbs- he’s definitely bigger than Mark and the toy still half lodged inside of you. You can’t wait to find out how much bigger. 

“You can-” you bite at your lip, “you can fuck me with it.”

“Good girl,” Hyuck praises you, and you can feel yourself practically dripping around the dildo now.

You hold your breath in anticipation while Hyuck gets settled on the foot of the bed. His warm palms smooth over your thighs, forcing you wider, and then his fingers grab the base of the toy. “Do you like it slow?”

“I think… to start off with?” You feel too hazy to be able to answer questions, and he hasn’t even started with you. “But… when you fuck me, can you go fast, please?”

“Of course, gorgeous. I can do anything you want,” he assures you, applying pressure to the toy so it begins to lodge deeper inside of you. You let out a small sigh and Hyuck looks up at you, grinning. “You’re so wet, babe, making this too fucking easy.”

“It’s not my fault-” you defend yourself, voice shaky. 

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Talking dirty gets you going, huh, gorgeous?”

You nod, resting your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him beginning to work the toy in and out of your pussy. 

“Bet Mark’s dirty talk game was weak,” Hyuck says under his breath.

You don’t have it in you to agree with him, although… he’s correct. Something tells you he knows it too, because he lets out a small chuckle. 

Hyuck’s using his right hand to fuck you with the toy, and his left moves from your thigh. A moment later, his thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your clit and your toes curl from the stimulation. A gentle gasp escapes you and you can practically hear Hyuck smile.

“Feels good?” he prompts.

“So good,” you nod. You need something to hold onto, so you grab at the one piece of clothing on your body, a night shirt, which you lift up your to your abdomen, giving Hyuck more room to work. 

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a whine, feeling the familiar build of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Hyuck tells you, and you can feel his breath on your pussy which makes you twitch. “God, I could watch you squirm like this all night.”

“Please-”

“Please what?” 

You don’t even know. All you know is listening to the squelching sound of the toy going in and out of you while his thumb rubs your clit is driving you insane.

“I want to kiss you,” you decide, realizing Hyuck’s about to make you cum and you haven’t even really gotten a taste of him. 

Hyuck stops what he’s doing immediately, manuevering up the bed so he’s on top of you, one hand pressed to the pillow while he looks down at you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Your hands explore his shoulders and one snakes into his hair, then you’re tugging his mouth down to your own. Hyuck’s gentle with you at first, but when you go to bite on his lower lip, he groans loudly. His tongue darts out to brush against your own, and the kiss deepens. 

You’re done with your toy. You want to feel him, and you reach between your bodies to remove the dildo, pulling it out and tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

Hyuck breaks your kiss to look at the wet toy on the ground, and he lets out a small laugh, gaze returning to your own. “Why’d you do that?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” His hand slips between your forms, and two digits stroke the length of your pussy, making you moan. “Want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, grabbing at the front of his shirt, tugging his mouth back to yours while he buries himself into you knuckle deep.

He strokes your walls, and the feeling is absolutely delightful, especially when he angles his hand, palm pressing to your clit while he seeks out your gspot. 

His lips are hot against your own, and they don’t muffle the sound of pleasure escaping you. 

Hyuck’s a bit of a gamer, but you never really realized his fingers could feel this good- 

“Shit, gorgeous,” he groans, breaking the kiss to move his mouth to your throat, where he lets out deep breaths. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m so close-” you confess, gripping his shoulders tighter while he finger fucks you even harder, chasing your release.

“You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, right?” Hyuck prompts, which makes you mewl. “Yeah, you’ve always been such a good girl, gonna be good and cum all over my fingers-”

His words make you throb, and he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm. His lips press kisses to your neck and he finds your sweetspot, making everything feel all the more intense.

You’re on the edge, and you let out a loud gasp, clenching your eyes shut in anticipation.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Come on, I wanna feel you.”

His words make the cord in your stomach snap, and your body is flooded with the pleasure of your release. You feel it everywhere, and it makes you cry out while holding onto him tighter. His hand continues between your thighs, fingers unrelenting, palm heavy on your clit. 

Hyuck works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and pushing at his shoulders, and then he straightens a little, motions stopping while he looks down at you. “Did you enjoy that?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes a little. “You know I did.”

“Yeah, but you could still stroke my ego a little.”

“Stroke your ego?” You reach for his cock, gripping him through his sweats. “Like this?”

Hyuck lets out a low groan, thrusting forward to meet your hand. “As much as I’d love to watch you jack me off- tonight I’m here to make you feel better, and I’m not anywhere near being done with you yet.”

You’d never realized Hyuck had any self control, and you watch in shock as he gently moves your hand away.

“I’m going to eat you out now,” he tells you, slipping down the bed so he’s on his stomach between your legs. Hyuck spreads you open, gently kissing your inner thigh before looking up at you. “You good with this?”

“Uh huh,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as you prepare yourself for his tongue. “I’m still sensitive though.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Hyuck promises, pressing a very soft kiss to your clit. “I can be gentle, contrary to popular belief.” 

You can’t help but let out a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Hyuck unexpectedly buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses into your hole and the feeling has your legs quaking as he adjusts them over his shoulders, trying to dive even deeper.

“Shit, Hyuck-” you whimper, grabbing at his hair.

He’s always been a bit of a liar- maybe you shouldn’t have believed him when he said he’d go easy on you. But… at the same time, the way his nose repeatedly bumps your clit has a fire building in your abdomen again, and you really aren’t even that mad about it.

You can feel Hyuck smile against you, and it’s such a turn on to know he’s enjoying himself while providing you with pleasure. Mark had always been somewhat rigid in your sexual interactions, much more serious than the grinning cheshire cat between your legs now. 

Where Mark had been slow and tentative, Hyuck’s eager and passionate. He switches between lapping at your hole, sucking your clit, and pushing his tongue into you as deep as it can go, licking at your walls and working you up way faster than anyone else ever has in your entire life.

Then he begins to groan, and you realize he’s grinding against the bed-

Is eating you out really that sexy for him? 

You feel another gush of wetness from the thought and your pussy throbs, warning you both that you’re close again. Hyuck responds by adjusting ever so slightly, lips wrapping around your clit while he pushes a hand to your entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, back arching off the bed while the cord in your stomach is pulled unbelievably tight. 

Hyuck’s fingers twist in and out of your hole, and he licks at your clit in the most sloppy manner- it’s enough to have you exploding, a cry of pleasure escaping you while your core clamps down on your roommate. 

He groans loudly, sinfully, and the vibration against your clit has your legs shaking around his head, orgasm pulsing deep through your entire being. 

You’re practically crying at this point, and you can feel tears even while you clench your eyes shut, taking everything Hyuck’s giving you while moaning like a whore- you’ve never sounded this way, and there’s something almost addicting about the noises being torn out of you.

You know he feels it too, because Hyuck is completely unrelenting. If anything, he’s even more sloppy with the way he worships your pussy, fingers crooking up expertly-

You’re literally gushing around him, and you can feel it, can feel that your bed is going to be ruined after this. But you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is grab at your sheets, crying to the ceiling while your best friend makes you feel pleasure so intense that you can’t even think. 

He’s fulfilled his promise about making you cry for good reasons… and he hasn’t even taken his cock out yet.

You’ve never been this needy in your entire life, and when he pulls away from your core, allowing you to catch your breath, you peak out at him from under wet lashes. 

“You’re literally perfect,” he tells you, voice deep. His pupils are completely blown now and he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

You watch him bring glistening fingers up to his lips, slowly sucking them clean and moaning loudly at the taste of you before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, and you’re already crying-” Hyuck sits up, leaning over you and reaching out to brush some of your tears away. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” 

“Hyuck-” you whimper, shocked that you’re choking up.

Your body is still being flooded with emotion and sensations. Your nipples are hard under your shirt and the fabric is becoming uncomfortable, making you more sensitive-

“Going to let me take care of you now, right, gorgeous?” he asks, pinching at your chin and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Please-” You grab at your shirt and Hyuck follows through by helping you take it off.

You’re now fully revealed to him, and your best friend sits back to appreciate you, letting out a deep breath. 

“Mark’s so fucking stupid for letting you go,” Hyuck says.

His words are bitter sweet, and in your overstimulated state, you find your lower lip wobbling as you hold back a choked sob. 

“Shh,” Hyuck whispers, reaching out to cup your cheek. “It’s better to be with someone who knows your worth, like I do. I’d never fucking treat you the way he did- I promise.”

The look on his face is so intense, and you know he’s telling you the truth.

Your body relaxes a little- Hyuck really is such a good guy, and what he’s doing for you helps more than he’ll probably ever know. He’s making you feel sexy again, making you feel needed and wanted and maybe even loved. 

“Besides,” Hyuck clears his throat, taking off his own shirt, “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about that asshole.”

You can’t help but laugh sadly, wiping at your own face to get rid of the last tears while you watch Hyuck move to work on his sweats. 

When he pushes the waistband down, revealing his cock, you think you might actually faint.

You’ve always thought Hyuck was a pretty guy, sexy of course, but pretty too- and his cock? It’s as stupidly pretty as the rest of him.

He must be a little over seven inches, and he’s girthy too-

You can feel yourself practically drooling as you look at him, and Hyuck smirks at your reaction. “Sure you’re ready for this, gorgeous?”

“If you don’t fuck me I think I might die.”

He laughs at your words. “Then I guess I better fuck you.”

“Should we…” you bite at your lip. “Do we need condoms?”

“Babe,” Hyuck scoffs. “Babe- we’re both clean, right? And I know you’re on birth control… do you want me to wear a condom? I always kind of imagined you’d be the kind of girl who wants to be full.”

How many times has he imagined this, you wonder. 

But he’s right. You want him to fill you up like no one else has.

“Come here,” you say, holding open your arms while he kicks his sweats off.

Hyuck’s hands find the pillows by your head and he slots himself between your legs, lips pressing against your own.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown hair, kissing him eagerly. You want to get lost in him, and it’s easy to do that when he begins to rut his cock against your pussy, bumping your clit and making your thighs shake around his hips.

“Just fuck me,” you groan, already feeling so unbelievably needy.

Hyuck smirks against your lips, pulling away to look down at you with mischief in his eyes. “You’re so fucking hot it’s insane.”

“Then why aren’t you inside me yet?”

He moans a little, dipping his head to look between your bodies while he reaches for the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

You’re about to scoff and tell him he’s not that big when he pushes his head into your entrance and a gasp leaves your lips. The stretch is very real, and you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on getting your body to relax.

You can practically feel your pussy struggling to make room for him, and even though you’re as wet as a fucking slip and slide, it’s still a little difficult for him to push in inch after inch-

“Fuck,” you whimper, and Hyuck rewards you by burying his face in your throat, peppering your skin in kisses. The soft feeling of his lips is enough to distract you from the intrusion opening up your pussy, and soon his hips are flush against your own, making you both release groans of pleasure.

“You ready for this?” Hyuck asks.

“God, yes-” 

He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the pillow and threading your fingers. Then he kisses you softly-

When he begins to rut into you, it’s anything but soft.

Hyuck’s motions are calculated and rough, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you that has you squeezing his hand. You’d be cussing if it weren’t for his hot lips against your own, lips that have gotten increasingly demanding, his tongue stroking yours while you gasp.

It feels amazing- like, truly. You’ve never been fucked like this, and he’s only just started.

He stops kissing you, breathing heavily while he fucks you even harder. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re literally balls deep inside of me,” you nearly laugh. “You can ask me anything.”

“I’m just,” Hyuck groans, squeezing your hand. “Did you ever think about me when you were fucking Mark?”

Your pussy clenches at the question, from shock or hornyness, you’re not sure. 

“I-”

“You did, didn’t you?” Hyuck grins. “Don’t think I didn’t just feel you get super fucking tight around me- God, you are dirty like me, aren’t you, gorgeous? I thought… thought that when you started dating soft boy Mark, maybe you were more vanilla, but that’s not you, is it?”

“No-”

“You like to get fucked, properly, don’t you, babe?” Hyuck continues.

“Fuck, yes-”

“And Mark didn’t know how to do that for you, did he? Mark didn’t know how to make you wet like this, didn’t know how to make you cry or scream or beg-”

You can’t bring yourself to verbally slander Mark while Hyuck’s fucking you like a wild man, so instead you just shake your head. Your confirmation makes Hyuck grin, and he fucks you even harder, the whole bed rocking while the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“You know what? Enough about Mark. Forget him. You don’t need him anymore.” Hyuck’s mouth is hot on your neck and his words make you shiver as he moves to suck your earlobe. “You only need me. You only need me, I promise.” 

Hyuck lets go of your hand and you’re about to argue with him about it when he shoves his fingers between your bodies, rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

“Hyuck!” you whimper, writhing beneath him.

“That’s it gorgeous. I wanna ruin you for anyone else. After this, no one’s going to make you cum like I can.” He’s groaning now, voice all breathy and super sexy- “If I make you cum three times the first time I fuck you, that means you’re mine right?”

You moan loudly at the idea, grabbing his shoulders while he works you closer and closer to yet another orgasm that you have no doubt will be as mind blowing as the first two. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” Hyuck says, voice gruffer now. “Fuck, gorgeous, I want you so badly- just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp when he applies more pressure to your clit.

“That’s my girl,” Hyuck smiles against your neck. “You’ll let me mark you right? Let me suck some pretty bruises into your skin so every time you look in the mirror you know your roommate fucks you right-”

His tongue darts out, licking a stripe of your throat before his lips press to your sweet spot. He suctions his mouth onto you, teeth grazing your skin and causing you to cry out while you move your hands to tug on his hair.

Hyuck lets out a sinful groan when you pull gently on his soft brown strands, but he doesn’t let up. He’s entirely focused on you and your pleasure, cock continuing to rearrange your insides while his fingers abuse your nearly overstimulated clit-

“I’m so close-” you whimper, eyes closed as your body once again approaches the edge with startling speed. 

“Yeah?” Hyuck moves away from your neck and you get the sense that he’s looking down at you. “Gonna cum on this cock and let me fill you up? Gonna let me breed you like the good girl you are? Make you so stupidly full that you’re fucking dripping?”

“Yes, fuck, Hyuck, please-” You’re on the verge of tears again, whole body thrumming with energy-

“Then cum for me. Let me fucking feel you.” 

You twitch from his words, and then you’re falling over the edge, gasping and clawing at him while you’re overcome with ecstasy. You’re not sure if it’s because this is your third orgasm, or if it’s because his cock is balls deep inside of you, but this orgasm is the most intense of them all.

You’re reduced to a completely primal side of yourself, brain short circuiting while your body takes over. There are no thoughts, only the attempt to process all the pleasure that’s flowing through you like a river that’s broken through a dam. 

The sounds escaping you are unlike anything that has ever come from your vocal cords, and Hyuck is also cumming, groaning loudly as he presses his lips to yours. His tongue is hot as it licks at your bottom lip, and his thrusts are erratic. 

He takes his hand away from your clit in favour of finding yours again, fingers locking while he squeezes you. You can feel the passion radiating off of him, can feel that this won’t be a one time thing and you both know it.

Hyuck takes care of you through your orgasms until you’re both finished, and his motions begin to slow until he’s simply half laying on top of you, his kisses much more gentle as you gasp into each others mouths. 

His hips are flush against your own, keeping his cum inside of you while you make out. His body is warm and it almost feels like a security blanket draped across your own. Hyuck’s fingers are still tangled with yours, and it feels nice just to be holding someone’s hand again.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” Hyuck groans, pulling away from your lips, “if we keep kissing I might have to fuck you again, and I don’t think you could take another orgasm.”

“Not tonight,” you agree, blinking up at your roommate. 

It’s like you’re seeing him in a new light, and you assess the soft details of his features. He really is a beautiful man.

“And we ruined your bed,” Hyuck says with a grin. “You were squirting earlier and your sheets are too wet to sleep in, so I guess that means you’re coming to my room tonight.”

“You want me to sleep with you?” you nearly laugh.

“I’d honestly be offended if you didn’t.” He lets go of your hand, pushing himself off of you. “I didn’t get to touch your tits at all, and I’d like to have something to grab onto when we sleep.”

“God, you’re such a menace,” you giggle, pushing at his chest.

“You love it,” Hyuck insists, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, we should shower.”

“So we’re showering together now too? Weren’t you the guy who said Mark was being clingy by wanting to see me every day when we started dating?”

“It’s clingy when Mark does it,” Hyuck notes. “When I do it, it’s endearing and charming and sexy-”

“Sure it is,” you say sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

“What happened to my good girl?” Hyuck teases. “If you keep talking back, I might be tempted to ruin you in the shower.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that doesn’t actually sound like the worst thing in the world.

“Fine, let’s go,” you concede, letting out a sigh.

There’s so much you could say about what has just taken place, but one thing you can state with confidence is that you do feel better. Hyuck had made you forget about Mark, if only for a short while before he started shit talking his friend- but, his words of slander hadn’t actually made you mad or sad or upset- they’d actually kind of had the opposite effect.

Life will go on after Mark Lee, and Hyuck’s made you realize that.

In fact, maybe your life after Mark will go on with Hyuck. 

Maybe it was always meant to be this way. 

You’re too tired to think about these big ideas in detail tonight, not after everything that’s just happened. Instead, you allow yourself to live in the moment, allow your roommate to take care of you the way he always has.

For now, this is more than enough. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm back in my Hyuck feels again

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “So perfect,” Hyuck tells you, reaching his hands up to cup your breasts.  Before he can dive in, however, you press the ice pack to his face again and he winces below you. A scowl forms, and he glares into your eyes. “Maybe I don’t like it when you take care of me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, thigh riding, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, claim kink, boob worship, big dick Hyuck, sex in on the living room couch, physical altercation between new boy and ex, overstim, holding off an orgasm, cumming together, light spanking, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe .

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

“Dude,” Jeno sighs, staring at the man sitting on his couch. “You did not-”

“Except that I did,” Hyuck smirks. “You should be happy for me.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to Mark after you tell him you fucked his ex?” Renjun asks, narrowing his eyes at their naughtiest friend. 

“Actually,” Hyuck sighs, leaning back against the couch, “I think we shouldn’t tell Mark, not yet at least.”

“So now you’re making us all culpable in your bullshit,” Renjun groans loudly, rolling his eyes. 

Hyuck gaze shifts from the angry aries to Jaemin, who’s yet to say anything since Hyuck’s big reveal. “You’re cool with this, aren’t you?”

“I mean…” Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “you have wanted to be with her for years-” 

“See, Jaemin gets it!” Hyuck grins, eyes turning to his part time gym buddy next. “And Jeno? You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Mark is not going to be happy about this,” Jeno frowns.

“And I wasn’t happy when he started dating my roommate crush,” Hyuck states, “or when he broke up with her unexpectedly.”

“Don’t lie,” Renjun scoffs, “we all know you probably celebrated when they ended things.”

“Only a little,” Hyuck confesses, grinning again. “Okay but for real,” his expression turns serious, “guys, I think I love her.”

☀️to read the full 3.9k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

Thank you to everyone who interacted with the teaser

@nae-vm - @shmooooo - @trulanxe - @aesttheticgirlyy

@nagisasugino - @jaehmarks - @iheartjackchampion

@darkdayelixer - @nctevia

[violetskylights0]

Can you please do selvika if her and the reader did nnn(no nut November) like you did with vi (To be honest she would probably be like no 😭) Its ok if you don't want to

I am a Vi girl to my very core but I must give the people what they want. I thought it would be cute and short...and now we have some of the nastiest shit I have ever written. I hope it's everything you wanted and more xoxo. @starisinlovewiththemoon

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

Games we like to play (18 +)

Prostitute!reader x Sevika

Warnings: Degradation/Smut/Pet names/Kind of cute?

No Nut November. Just saying it felt ridiculous. You’d heard about it before—whispers in the brothel about Piltover clients and their strange indulgences in self-denial. You’d always dismissed it as yet another quirk of the privileged: something to laugh at, not take seriously.

And it wasn’t like you had the luxury of turning down indulgence. Working at the brothel wasn’t about holding back; it was about giving people exactly what they wanted. Or needed. You didn’t care much either way—clients came and went, their faces blurring together after a while.

That is until Sevika walked in.

You’d known her by reputation, of course. Everyone in the Undercity did. She was Silco’s right hand, the enforcer with a mechanical arm and a short temper to match. People whispered about her in a way that made you assume she was ruthless, dangerous, someone you didn’t want to cross paths with unless you had to.

So, when she first stepped into your room, you froze. The light was dim, but there was no mistaking her broad shoulders, the scar cutting across her cheek, or the way her eyes flicked over the space with a calculated calm.

You expected her to bark orders, to demand something rough or impersonal. But instead, she went to your bar cart, poured herself a drink, and leaned casually against the wall. “Nice setup,” she’d said, her tone low and unhurried.

Her behavior threw you. You weren’t sure what to make of her—this woman who seemed both entirely in control and quietly restrained. You talked for a while, about nothing in particular, and the longer you listened, the more the fear melted into something else. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue.

A drink or two in, though? That reserved demeanor? Gone. That night, she paid for three hours—and she’d used every minute.

Since then, she’d been your only client. It wasn’t just the money—though she made sure you didn’t need anyone else—but the connection. She was different. Reserved but attentive, with a way of making you feel like the only person in the room. You didn’t put labels on it—Sevika wasn’t the type for that—but it was something. Enough to make you bold.

Which is how this conversation started.

“I heard one of my coworkers talking about it with her Piltover client,” you said, voice light as you trailed your fingers along Sevika’s arm. The sheets rustled between your legs as she came up for air and propped herself up on one elbow, dark eyes narrowing at you in amusement.

“Go on,” she said, her voice low and rough, already laced with suspicion.

“It’s this thing they do. No Nut November.” You tried not to laugh at the words, but Sevika’s expression—a mix of disbelief and amusment—nearly broke your composure.

“No... what now?” she repeated, her lips twitching into a smirk.

You bit your lip, enjoying the rare moment of catching her off guard. “Basically, it’s a whole month where you’re not allowed to... you know.”

Sevika snorted, dropping her head and rolling on her side “You’re telling me people do this shit on purpose?”

“Apparently,” you said, biting back a grin. “Some kind of self-control thing.”

“Sounds like something those Piltover assholes came up with. Too much money, not enough brains.” Her voice was dry, but the faint chuckle undercut the sharpness.

“Probably,” you agreed, laughing softly. “But... it could be fun.”

Sevika stilled, her gaze snapping back to you. “What?”

“We could try it,” you said, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “Just for the hell of it. What’s the harm?”

She sat up fully, pulling her tank top back on as she shook her head. “No offense, sweetheart, but isn’t the whole point of what we do to not hold back?” Her tone was blunt, but there was an edge of curiosity behind it like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

You frowned, the remainder of your undefined “arrangement” stinging a little. But you weren’t about to give up that easily.

“C’mon, Sev,” you murmured, letting the sheet slip off your body as you stood. Her gaze flicked downward for a moment before she caught herself, her jaw tightening.

“You barely have time to visit me these days,” you said softly, stepping closer. “I know things are... hard right now. Silco’s gone. You’re picking up all the pieces. I just thought maybe this could be something to take your mind off it all. Something just for us.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the rough edge of the scar there. Sevika exhaled, her shoulders relaxing slightly under your touch.

“And,” you added, your voice dropping as your hand moved to her arm, “think about how good it’ll feel at the end of the month. Me, all needy. And you…” Your fingers grazed the hard lines of her bicep, drawing her attention.

“Pent up?” she finished for you, a low chuckle rumbling in her chest.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a heavy sigh, she reached for your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” she murmured, her voice softening as her forehead rested against yours.

You smiled, standing on your toes to kiss her. Her lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness of her calloused hand as it held you steady.

“Fine,” Sevika muttered against your lips, pulling you closer as she sealed the deal. “Two weeks. But don’t think for a second I’m making it easy for you.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you pulled back, excitement bubbling up like steam in a kettle about to burst. For a moment, you thought you saw the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she turned away too quickly for you to be sure.

“Two weeks,” she repeated, adjusting her cape as if to distract herself. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You smirked, leaning against the doorway to watch her go. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

This was going to be very, very interesting.

The first week wasn’t so bad. You stuck to your usual routine, and seeing Sevika three times that week made it unexpectedly fun.

Tuesday’s visit to her apartment was a perfect example. She’d summoned you with a cryptic, “Come by tonight,” and though her tone was casual, it always managed to spark a thrill deep in your chest.

Navigating the labyrinth of Zaun’s backstreets was second nature by now, though it still carried an edge of excitement. The quiet hum of the city and the faint buzz of neon lights guided you to her door, where you knocked three times—the code you’d both settled on.

The door opened with no preamble, and there stood Sevika, framed by the dim light spilling out from her apartment. The sight of her stopped you dead in your tracks.

Her cigarette hung loosely between her lips as she fiddled with her mechanical arm, muttering something under her breath. The dark brown tank top she wore stretched tight over her chest, highlighting the sculpted curve of her shoulders, while her black boxers sat dangerously low on her hips. The disheveled look was almost unfairly attractive, and it left you feeling momentarily speechless.

Her sharp eyes flicked up to meet yours, and a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You gonna stand there all night or come in?”

You slipped inside quickly, your pulse already quickening. She moved to her couch and collapsed into it like she owned the world, legs spread wide, exuding an effortless dominance that made your skin tingle.

Without missing a beat, you crossed the room and climbed onto her lap, settling yourself like you’d been invited—even though you hadn’t been. You plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag, locking eyes with her as you exhaled.

“You know,” she drawled, her tone low and teasing, “you could always ask before you take.”

“And what’s the fun in that?” you shot back, a playful grin spreading across your lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Keep pushing, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a velvet threat.

Before you could quip back, she had you pinned to the couch, her large hand encircling your throat—not squeezing, just enough to make your breath hitch. Her lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep and consuming, like she was claiming you all over again.

Her knee pressed up between your thighs, and the pressure was just enough to pull a shameless moan from you. The sound made her grin, slow and wicked.

“Ready to give up this silly little game you insist on playing?” she asked, her voice husky as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The reminder of your bet jolted you out of your haze, and you pushed against her shoulders, sitting up dramatically. “You’re already trying to sabotage me!” you accused, narrowing your eyes at her.

“And it almost worked,” she said, her grin unfazed. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give it up. You know you can’t say no to me.”

You scoffed, your gaze darting to the table beside you where her screwdriver lay. With a smirk, you snatched it up and held it out to her. “Give me that.”

Her brow arched, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

“Well,” you continued, shrugging nonchalantly, “since you’re paying for my time, I might as well make myself useful. You looked frustrated when I showed up.”

Her confusion melted into reluctant amusement as she took the screwdriver. “You offering to fix my arm now?”

“Depends,” you said, gesturing for her to sit back down. “Which screw were you trying to tighten?”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down and explaining the issue. You listened intently, nodding along and offering the occasional suggestion, though you weren’t exactly an expert.

The rest of the evening was spent sifting through her pile of spare parts, sharing drinks, and laughing over failed attempts to jury-rig solutions. At one point, you glanced up from the mess to find her watching you—not with her usual smugness, but something softer, quieter. The look vanished as quickly as it came, leaving you questioning if you’d imagined it.

By week two, though, things got harder—literally and figuratively. Your body betrayed you at every turn, and the tension was maddening. It left you feeling like a pent-up teenager, desperate and all too aware of every brush of fabric, every suggestive glance. But if Sevika thought you’d break first, she had another thing coming.

Which brought you to Friday night at The Last Drop. Sevika’s routine was as predictable as clockwork—every Friday, she’d be at her usual table, gambling and sipping whiskey like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was the perfect opportunity to test her resolve.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the last swipe of lip gloss and admiring your handiwork. The black leather skirt clung to your hips, catching the faint glow of the moonlight, and your low-cut top highlighted just enough cleavage to make Sevika’s attention inevitable. You smoothed your hair, gave yourself one last smirk, and headed out.

The bouncer at The Last Drop barely looked up before nodding in the direction of Sevika’s table. You spotted her immediately, lounging like a queen among her subjects. Her cigar glowed faintly in the low light, and the subtle curve of her smirk as she leaned back in her chair set your nerves buzzing.

You approached with deliberate confidence, the click of your heels drawing eyes as you stopped beside her. “Is that seat taken?” you asked, motioning to her lap.

The table fell silent, the men and women around Sevika staring openly, their gazes lingering far too long for your liking. Sevika, however, barely glanced at you before leaning back and spreading her legs slightly in invitation.

You lowered yourself onto her lap, adjusting your skirt just enough to let her feel the curve of your hips against her. Her hand settled on your thigh, a possessive touch that sent shivers through you.

She leaned in, her breath brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “It’s cute that you thought dressing like a slut would make me jealous. But here’s the thing—they all know you’re my slut. What’s there to be jealous about when they can only dream?”

Her low chuckle rumbled through you as she tossed some chips onto the table, her hand sliding higher on your thigh.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you weren’t backing down—not yet.

Game on.

The game at the table picked up, the noise growing louder with every passing round. You barely paid attention, more focused on Sevika's drink getting dangerously low. Without waiting for her to ask, you hopped up to grab her another. Her hand delivered a quick, casual pat to your ass as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across your face.

At the bar, you scanned the crowd for a target. Spiked-hair guy slumped over near a puddle of vomit? Nope. A buzzcut woman giving you that look from the middle of the room? Way too easy. Then, your gaze landed on her: a loudmouth with an undercut and no clue about the pecking order here. Jackpot.

You sidled up to the bar, ignoring her completely at first. Tapping your empty glass, you got the bartender’s attention, who already knew what to pour: whiskey for Sevika. Only then did you glance her way.

“Looks like you’re having a hell of a time over here,” you said, flashing a playful smile.

She turned toward you, the conversation with her friend forgotten. Her eyes swept over you with a low whistle. “And I think I’m about to have an even better one,” she smirked.

Right where you wanted her. But she needed to work a little harder for it.

As she started asking about you, you casually mentioned the brothel. Her eyes lit up like it was her birthday.

“You know,” you said, tilting your head coyly, “I do give discounts to clients who know how to show me a good time.”

“Oh, yeah?” she grinned, leaning closer. “Convenient, since I’ve got some cash burning a hole in my pocket.” Her hand found the back of your thigh, pulling you in just enough to make the air between you crackle.

You felt Sevika’s gaze burning into your back from across the room, but you didn’t turn around. Instead, you leaned into the stranger’s touch, tapping the muscles of her arm teasingly.

“I think I’d like a preview of what the rest of my night could look like,” she said, her voice dropping as she tapped your chin up with her finger.

“Oh, yeah?” you whispered, your lips inches from hers. “Why don’t you show me what I’m working with?”

Just as she started to lean in, you barely had time to process the hand on your thigh disappearing. A blur of movement later, the stranger hit the floor, a guttural thud snapping the air between you.

Sevika stood over her, gripping the fabric of her shirt with one hand.

“I’ll give you five seconds to get the fuck out of my bar,” Sevika growled, her voice low and razor-sharp. “Before I break every disgusting finger that touched my girl.”

Your eyes widened as the stranger stammered something snarky, but it didn’t matter. Sevika’s fist connected with her nose before she could finish. Blood sprayed, and the woman crumpled onto the ground.

Sevika turned to you, her jaw tight, her eyes blazing.

“Office. Now.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the back. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving you alone with the familiar tension crackling between you like a storm about to break.

You leaned back against Silco’s old desk, arms crossed. “Well, someone’s jealous.”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “Jealous?” she barked, stalking toward you. “It’s one thing to show up dressed like that, begging for attention. But you were practically dry-humping her in front of everyone.”

You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Isn’t that my job? Making sure potential clients are… interested in what they see?”

Her growl reverberated through the room as she closed the distance between you. “Yeah, well, from now on, I’m your only client that matters.”

Your smirk widened. “Sevika, are you trying to make us exclusive?”

She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. “This isn’t about some stupid game. You’ve been trying to drive me insane since day one, and guess what? You did it. Congratulations. Now I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“Funny,” you teased, hopping up onto the desk and letting your knees fall open just enough. “Seems like everything’s going exactly according to plan.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she just stared at you. Then, with an exasperated chuckle, she stepped between your legs, her hands landing on your hips.

“I knew you’d be the death of me,” she muttered, before grabbing your neck and crashing her lips into yours.

Every ounce of frustration and tension boiled over in that kiss, her grip firm and unrelenting as if to remind you exactly who was in charge now. And this time, you didn’t argue.

You had made out with Sevika plenty of times before. But as her tongue slid into your mouth this time, it was different. There was no pretense, no playful back-and-forth teasing. This wasn’t just a hookup, and you weren’t just some random conquest.

She wasn’t kissing a prostitute. She was staking a claim.

A moan escaped your lips as she pushed you back against the desk, the edge digging into your lower back as her frame towered over you. You gasped when she climbed on top of you, her weight a deliberate reminder of how much control she had.

Her lips trailed from your jaw to your neck, biting down hard enough to leave marks that you knew you’d see tomorrow. “I think I’ll start by ruining this little outfit,” she growled, her voice dark and rich. “Since you’re so set on showing the Undercity what’s mine, I’ll make it easier for you.”

Her metal hand traced up your waist, the cold edge of her finger sending shivers down your spine. You barely had time to process her next move before she dragged it sharply upward, slicing clean through your top like it was nothing.

You inhaled sharply as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed. Sevika sat back for a moment, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Much better,” she muttered, her lips quirking into a wicked smirk as she leaned in, her nose brushing against yours. “But you’re not done paying for that little stunt at the bar, sweetheart.”

Her hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanna play games?” she teased, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll play. But we both know how this ends.”

“Do we?” you shot back, your voice breathy but still defiant. “Seems to me like you’re the one losing your cool.”

That earned you a sharp laugh, her teeth flashing as her smirk widened. “Keep talking,” she said, her voice low. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to stop.”

You opened your mouth to make a smart ass comment  but it was already to late as she started pinching one of your nipples with her real hand. 

‘Look at these already stiff. You really are a fucking whore.” Sevika said aggresily spitting on your chest before leaning down and licking it to spead over your left nipple. 

You started moaning as she swirlled her tongue and lightly bit at your nipple as your hands shot to her hair. She made sure to leave a few hickeys before quickly tearing through your mini skirt as well quickly dropping to her knees and pulling you to the edge of the desk. 

You groaned, your head tipping back as Sevika pinned your thighs nearly flat against your shoulders. The contrast was maddening—her metal hand icy against your left thigh, the sharp edges biting just enough to tease, while the warmth of her calloused fingers on your right thigh sent sparks shooting through your body.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her eyes roamed over you. "Can’t decide if you like it rough or soft, huh? Guess I’ll just give you both."

Her grip tightened, the cold metal sending a shiver up your spine as she leaned down, her breath ghosting over your neck. The deliberate pressure of her hands, one hard and unyielding, the other impossibly warm and strong, had you arching into her without thinking.

“Keep making noises like that, and I might just keep you pinned like this all night,” she teased, her lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the needy whimper threatening to spill out. But Sevika caught it, her smirk practically audible as she shifted her weight, her metal fingers teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Thought so,” she growled, leaning in to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of your throat.

You loved when Sevika treated you like a ragdoll with no other purpose than to her pretty little fucktoy and cum. And you were already close to cumming thirty seconds after her tongue started dancing across your clit. The sound of Sevika slurping up all of your juices made you go wild. 

You felt her hand on your right thigh move to your entrance groaning at the feeling of her two fingers stretching you out. 

“Cant believe this pussy is so greedy sucking my fingers in. It’s almost like you get off of me degrading you huh” Sevika moaned continuing her assault on your clit with her tounge.

“Well I’ll make it worth your wild hm? Cum on my fucking fingers like the greedy slut you are.” Sevika engouraged instantly sending you over the edge as your legs began to shake as you called out Sevikas name. 

You barley had time to cathcn your breath before Sevika told you to stand up and turn around to brace yourself against the desk. 

You heard her undoing her pants and feeling something kind of warm and hard against your entrance.

“Thought I would wear this think out to see if it was comfortable enough to bring over to the brothel. Didnt know it would come in handy so soon.” She said pressing into you as the object slid inside of you wour jaw falling slack from the sensation. 

‘W-what is that- oh my god.” You said gripping the desk.

“Saw some women talking about this thing when I was up in Piltover running some collections. I think they called it a strap? Figures your sloppy pussy would take it in one go.” Sevika said starting to roll her hips so the strap started moving in and out of you. 

You had never felt something so good your eyes rolling back as she picked up the speed. 

She gripped your hair with one hand as she moved her knee between yours using her muscular thigh to push you bent leg up on the desk. Increasing her speed even more. 

It felt so fucking good you didnt even have control of what was flying out of your mouth just expletives and Sevikas name.

As the slapping sounds began to echo through the room you felt yourself getting close again As Sevikas grunts sounded like a melody against your ears. 

“ Go ahead screm it louder baby. Let everyone in the bar- no everyone in the lanes know who this pussy belongs to.” She grunted bringing her hand down on your ass with a hard slap as she continued ramming into you. 

“Fuck it’s all yours Sev! S-stresching me out so good.” You slurred feeling your orgasm washing over your. You thought she would slow her pace but as your orgasm began to calm Sevika kept punding into you.

You felt your eyes roll back getting light headed from the pressure. A new feeling building in your stomach. 

“I know you have more in you hm? Show daddy how well you can squirt all over my strap. She said smacking your ass again. 

You shrieked her name cursing her out as you felt a sudden rush followed by a feeling of wetness shooting all over your leg as Sevika groaned at how well you were taking it. 

Sevika finally slowed her pace, her movements deliberate and torturous as she eased out of you. The rush of sensation left you dizzy, your body slack, and your legs threatening to give out entirely. You stumbled forward, but Sevika was quick, catching you effortlessly.

She chuckled low in her throat, the sound vibrating through you as she scooped you up into her arms like you weighed nothing. Carrying you to the worn couch in the corner of the room, she settled down with you perched in her lap, your body still trembling in the aftershocks.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, your voice breathy and ragged. You barely had the energy to lift your head, but the accusation carried all the heat you could muster. “First, you tell the whole damn bar I’m your girl, then you ruin my favorite skirt, and then you fuck me like that?”

Sevika smirked, her hand idly tracing patterns along your thigh. “Mm, don’t forget—I also carried your pretty ass over here.”

“Not the point,” you shot back, though the warmth in her touch had your indignation quickly waning.

Her smirk deepened, dark eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you’re forgetting something,” she murmured, her voice thick with self-satisfaction.

You tilted your head, confused and still trying to regain full control of your brain. “What?”

Her grin was almost feral as she leaned in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I won your stupid game.”

The realization hit you like a slap. “Oh, hell no—”

“Uh-uh,” she interrupted, cutting off your protests with a possessive kiss that left you breathless all over again. When she finally pulled back, her smug expression had you torn between wanting to strangle her and kiss her again.

“Face it,” Sevika said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction as her hand trailed lazily up your spine. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but the smug arch of her brow and the way her fingers tightened just enough on your waist shut you up fast. Damn her for being right.

Sevika’s laugh rumbled through her chest as she leaned back, utterly victorious. “That’s what I thought,” she said, her voice teasing as she rested her head against the back of the couch. “Guess that makes me the reigning champion, huh?”

You huffed, your pride smarting, but the way her arms tightened around you, grounding and comforting, made it impossible to stay mad.

“Fine,” you grumbled, resting your head against her chest. “But next time, I’m taking home the crown.”

“We’ll see, sweetheart,” Sevika murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “We’ll see.”

[strawberry-halla]

something so amazing about solas is that he is very good at predicting his enemies and his allies moves. he’s always thinking 5 steps ahead, even varric says this. (long post incoming!)

but when it comes to lavellan, he could never predict her. when he first meets her, solas thinks she’s just another dalish elf that is unwilling to listen to his advice. nope turns out she can be willing and not only that but asks him about what he knows so she can better understand the fade/spirits/ancient elves.

and then the haven dream kiss! she’s the one who initiates and solas is once again thrown off guard because he never expected that. and then he just gives into it with so much passion and fade tongue.

in all new, faded for her, solas is once again surprised lavellan agrees with his plan to free his friend, the spirit of wisdom. because nobody in the entire inquisition (except cole) would be down for this?? like all the world knows about spirits is that they don’t ever come in contact with people unless very rarely. they’re an enigma, something to be feared even because they can become demons. but nah lavellan is like ‘yep sounds good let’s go save your friend!’

and solas after this tries to rationalize lavellan’s bizarre behavior as something the anchor changed about her. because he has always known how to read people. he can’t understand her. he thinks her ‘spirit’ has changed due to magic’s influence.

but no, lavellan surprises once again by pointing out that her choices are her own or that if the anchor did change her, wouldn’t she notice? like no wonder solas is so fucking down bad. lavellan subverts everything he thought about the modern people, not just exclusively elves. she’s constantly showing him new points of view and challenging his whole mission. and so the cracks start to form.

“you show a wisdom i haven’t seen since…*pause* my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the fade.”

“your mind, your morals, your… *pause* spirit.”

“it would be kinder in the long run. but losing you would- *cuts himself off*”

and then if lavellan drinks from the well, this conversation and the previous quest itself (what pride had wrought) just cracks solas wide open (even if she didn’t drink). he’s visibly upset because he’s afraid the well will change lavellan and he knows first hand what it’s like to do everything for someone who made the wrong choices! so solas asks what she would do with the power of the well and he’s ONCE AGAIN thrown off guard by her answer. i really like the “help the world move forward” option because it almost aligns with solas’s plan but it doesn’t.

s: “you would risk everything you have in the hope the future is better? what if it isn’t? what if you wake up to find the future you shaped is worse than what it was?”

l: “i’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.”

s: “just like that?”

l: “if we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.”

you’d think this would be an affirmation that solas’s plan is right, but it’s not. lavellan is wanting to fix things now and shape a better future with the well’s power. it’s eerily similar, but once again a path solas didn’t consider. she surprises once more. using the wisdom from the well to help, rather than command. sound familiar? this conversation just solidifies solas’s want. to be himself and to be solas, not fen’harel, with lavellan.

so he takes her to crestwood. somewhere intimate and quiet just for the two of them. a place where the veil is thinnest because it’s easy for spirits to cross and be comfortable. solas is going to tell lavellan the truth. he’s going to abandon his plan. but then solas gets in his own head. he fights with the possibility of her rejecting him because why wouldn’t she? he’s the very god in her culture that ruined everything. what if lavellan sees him for the monster history painted him? and then he realizes why he even wanted to tear down the veil. to avenge his oldest friend and right the wrongs he did to the elves. and it all comes crashing down in not even a second.

“then what i must tell you… *pause* …the truth.”

solas backpedals so fucking hard. the reality of everything just hits him. so he quickly redirects to the vallaslin topic because it’s familiar as he looks down at lavellan’s face and sees the markings of the very gods he locked away.

remove the vallaslin or not solas still loves her no matter what. and the sad option is still my favorite here because once again solas is slipping.

s: “you have a rare and marvelous spirit. in another world-“

l: “why not this one?”

and then at the end of veilguard, lavellan does one more thing solas doesn’t expect. after hurting her, betraying her, leaving her alone without any answers, killing one of her friends, and almost succeeding in his plan, she forgives him. lavellan abandons thedas and everything she knew to be with him. to the very end, she is subverting his tragic expectations.

“this journey is not yours alone. we make it together, always.”

[charliemwrites]

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3

(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)

Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish

No Content Warnings

It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.

But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.

Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)

A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.

“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.

You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.

“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”

“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.

He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.

On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.

You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.

When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.

You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.

“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.

“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”

“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”

You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.

It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.

On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.

The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”

You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.

On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.

“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.

“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”

Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”

God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?

“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.

Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”

“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”

“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.

You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.

“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.

Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.

The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.

Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.

Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.

You thought he was a fluke.

But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.

“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.

“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”

“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.

You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.

“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.

“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.

“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.

“Does Kyle have one?”

The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.

“Oh does he, lass.”

You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”

“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”

And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.

Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.

The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.

Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.

The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.

“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”

“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.

“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.

“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”

You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”

Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”

He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.

“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”

“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.

“‘Night, bonnie.”

You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.

He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” he observes, following.

“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”

He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”

“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”

“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”

It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.

“Well, thank you. I loved them.”

“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”

Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”

“But what if I want to?”

And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.

“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.

“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”

He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.

“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”

“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”

“Dangerous woman.”

You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”

“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”

Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.

“…Do I even want to know?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[cheyisagirlkisser]

NSFW CONTENT BELOW MDNI!

I hear so much about Ellie being dominant and smooth but what about how she actually is? This is just something to keep myself active before I post my Halloween fic.

Taking requests!

•Ellie who almost face-planted when she saw you for the first time. She was 18, and you had just settled into Jackson. At first, she’d keep her distance, already intimidated by pretty girls like you, but when you bumped into each other and you flashed Ellie that sweet smile, she knew the fall was inevitable.

•Ellie whose eyes lit up the first time she watched Jurassic Park with Joel. However, seeing it with you was something entirely special. Ellie borrowed the VHS tape from Joel, and it took her two whole weeks to gather the courage to ask you out on a real date.

•Ellie who felt so giddy when you happily agreed to her date. She had to restrain herself from giggling like some 13 year old girl with a crush, and instead gave you a goofy smile and a handshake(which she definitely felt embarrassed about later.)

•Ellie who couldn’t focus on her favorite movie with you so close to her on her couch. The way your eyes lit up as you experienced the movie for the first time, and when you sneakily intertwined your fingers into hers, your thumb stroking her skin, she felt summersaults in her tummy. You were just so beautiful, light playing off of your face as the movie continued.

•Ellie who thought you deserved to be treated like royalty, and took you out on the sweetest dates. Most of the time it was simple things, like picnics, watching movies, and late-night walks. There was unfortunately not much resources for dates in the world. However, she’d make sure to listen to you, and you felt your heart practically melt when she knocked on your door with some sketches of you in hand, nervously tapping her foot like a madman.

•Ellie who wasn’t a professional at the guitar but you thought she was the best damn musician in the entire world. Her soft voice, her wispy breaths between lines, the way her calloused fingers strummed away. She could make you just as nervous as she felt around you when that girl had her hands on a guitar.

•Ellie who found herself constantly knocking on your door, smiling and asking if you were busy. If you weren’t the two of you would lay cuddled up in your bed together, Ellie planting soft kisses all over your face until both of you were giggling together.

•Ellie who wasn’t really a horny person often, but when she was, she was definitely more of a giver..

NSFW HCS

•Ellie who was so mesmerized by the way you’d bounce on her strap-on that she couldn’t help but lap at your tits with a fury while they jiggled with you.

•Ellie who wasn’t much of the receiver type until you went down on her once and then she was hooked. The pleasure wasn’t even what sold her; it was the way you looked so hungry for her cunt while licking her like a damn lollipop. She loved seeing you so satisfied and needy so it was becoming a regular occurrence to have your face inbetween her thighs, moaning more than she even did as you tongue-fucked her.

•Ellie who was still a bit shy during sex, but felt confident after the first few times. Her favorite thing was fingering you because she felt as if she were filling you up in some way, making you complete. She also loved the way you felt so tight and so warm, the way your pussy practically begged for her, your walls fluttering around her digits. She loved to take her time with you, but it was so so hard when you were practically sucking her in, your sopping cunt clenching when she found your sweet spot.

•Ellie who swears she ascended to heaven the first time you two scissored. The way your cunt was slick against hers, your lips rubbing up so nicely against her own. She thought it was the most intimate thing to do with you.

•Ellie who wanted to fuck you with a strap but was honestly nervous she would look stupid swinging plastic penis around. However, if she ever found one on patrol, she would try her best to face that fear because the thought of stretching you on more than her fingers made her dizzy.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.

Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.

How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.

Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.

‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.

Jason groans, showing that he was listening.

‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.

‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.

‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.

‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’

You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’

Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.

‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.

‘That’s not-‘

‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.

‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’

‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’

A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.

‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’

You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.