#whenever she's criticized for anything
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really good take!!!
#khadija mbowe#chappel roan#2024 election#Youtube#if kamala voters on tumblr took this tack#instead of yelling at ppl personally affected by her policies that theyre responsible for a trump win#whenever she's criticized for anything#(if they acknolwedge they exist at all and arent russain bots)#even when voting isnt mentioned#i would be a lot less pissed
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erik will genuinely jump at any chance he can to steal charles' last name and be so catty about it i know this for a fact WHAT is his deal
[Magneto (2011)]
#cherik#snap chats#if i had a nickel every time erik went by 'mr xavier' at some point id have two and its making me wheeze#like at least the first time it was to be headmaster or whatever so it at least makes sense but vjaevlEVEKJV WHY#needed our mandatory charles mention for the magneto issue ig alright ill take it#legit tho why did he feel inclined to steal charles name vjelkvjeaklj like his names 'erik magnus' in this#while i was trying to answer that fashion ask i stumbled upon this thing and gave it a quick read#its only one issue and fairly short so why not#Context Squad I Guess this issue's just sharing the first time erik moves to new york#hence. stealing charles name i guess vjaLVKJAJKL like girl you didnt do anything evil yet ..... alright .... just to be sure ig...#do you ever think he freezes getting called mr xavier or is he so used to it at this point#maybe he twirling his hair and giggling to himself every time he hear it idk#oh but yeah he didnt do anything evil yet. he actually gets his suit in this issue from a woman named cassandra .....#not charles sister of course but still im laughing anyway because he wants her to join him in his Not-Brotherhood group#and shes like 'i met you like five days ago youre insane' and the sort#its an ok read. its unnerving seeing erik smile so much- especially so broadly but its not like. an offensive issue. its standard#it does the job on sharing the story. not that im a critic of any sort vjalkjkaLJ#at the very least it's implied erik has a notable accent in this so thats very cool 🥰#its always cute whenever erik admits hes a drama lover too like vjeLVJEalkvjelkj like at least hes self aware this theater kid 😩#ok bye ive been meaning to work on something but ive been running around all day valkvjkae
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You know, I liked Lila as a character much better when she was just a lonely girl who lied to get attention and clout rather than some evil mastermind who somehow has three (3) different identities and has a secret lair in the catacombs under Paris.
But the writing team doesn’t want to hear that.
#not to mention how most of her lies suck and everyone’s iq takes a plummet whenever she does#honestly she should’ve been done once the whole ‘framing Marinette and getting her expelled’ thing was done#she literally tells the principal that she has a disease that makes her lie uncontrollably still no one doubts anything she says#wtf#the plot armor is thick with this one#she had no business being in s4 or 5#especially once Alya leaned Marinette was Ladybug#miraculous#mlb#miraculous ladybug#adrien agreste#marinette#marinette dupain cheng#lila rossi#volpina#ml salt#ml writing critical#ml writing criticism#lila salt
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My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It
#blue chatter#they called me a resilient person. and no the fuck I am not. I break down so easily over everything and my body is falling apart on me.#I scream in terror when someone knocks on the door too hard the fuck you mean I’m good at handling adversity#I pointed out that I freak out whenever my grade gets low even a little bit#and they were just sitting there like ‘yeah. and then you pick yourself up again and you do the work.’#and no? not always? oftentimes I give up and don’t try hard enough to fix it and let points go that I could have earned#I barely ever go for extra credit opportunities and I’ve never gone to office hours of my own free will#I can’t even think about talking to a professor about a bad grade without wanting to cry? hello?#but they were insistent that even with those things I am still managing Incredibly Well in class given the circumstances. which made me#uncomfortable. like. I don’t think of myself as resilient At All and I feel a bit like I’m lying or tricking them.#I start shaking like a chihuahua when people are upset and I’m In The Vicinity. even when they’re clearly not upset with me.#I really struggle to advocate for myself ever and even when I do I usually feel guilty and walk it back partway so I don’t cause a fight#and I always get way too emotional for the situation when someone has anything they’re upset with me for. which isn’t fair to them bc I need#to be able to take constructive criticism without taking it as a personal attack on me.#like what the fuck do you mean *resilient*. I can’t even handle seeing a bug flying near my face or getting a B in a class. or being told#that I did something wrong. I’m actually significantly worse at handling adversity than I used to be. high school me was a resilientish kid.#and it’s not like I was ever *good* at handling my emotions. even when it was essential for my safety. I’ve always cried way too easily#even when it actively made the situation I was in Much Worse. even when I knew better.#I would get angry and scared and sad and start shaking and crying and even screaming at my parents when they were mad at me even though#I knew that it would always make my life much worse. and extend an already beleaguered argument.#I brought this up with my therapist and she was like ‘well. anybody would have done that if they were treated like you were’.#which. okay. maybe so. I still feel like I should have been able to handle it and just shut up and move on and not make it worse.#but I am aware that this is probably a cognitive distortion. even so. that definitely doesn’t make me resilient.#I just. I feel gross being called resilient. I’m not. I’m weak and easily scared and unable to handle even small amounts of adversity.#the fuck is my roommate even *seeing*.#the annoying part is that they’re generally an insightful person about other people and I know logically that they’re probably right#which is why I’m not going to complain any more about this to their face bc I should just drop it and not make it a Thing#I talk too much about myself and my problems anyway. not every conversation has to be about my brain worms.#but the discomfort is Distinct and Unpleasant. and now I’m just having to sit with it. and Feel Uncomfortable. and try to accept what was#definitely intended as a compliment. I know it’s draining to talk to someone who doesn’t accept any of the kind things you say about them.
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maybe it's just posts i've seen but god if you're talking abt any Rook, in generalized manner, maybe don't use a singular pronoun (like a general, plural they vs using a singular he, she, they)
#sorry i just see emmrich posts using only 'she' that seem all encompassing posts rather than just talking abt ops rook#but reviewing the fandom and seeing how the fanfics are majority of emmrich stuff is very m/f focused#not a bad thing just. i don't care for it#(like whenever im just talking abt my rook i use their name vs anything else)#i have this thing with solas too but that's mostly bc his is gender locked :/ but i'd actually rb solavellan posts#if they all didn't use 'she' bc my lavellan who romanced him does NOT use she/her pronouns#sorry im. rambling#personal#fandom critical
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(Sorry I know I’m talking abt her a lot recently I just idk)
I realize now that I shouldn’t be feeling genuine fear whenever I see a text from her, wondering if it’s going to be something bad
#and bad ranges anywhere from a thing I’m going to have to say or a direct criticism or anything really#whenever she says: oh and also#I’m just so effing scared and I debate throwing my phone out the window#I don’t think I’m supposed to feel this way#the siren (my friend)#I’m so scared#I CANT EVEN HATE HER WHY CANT I HATE HER#I can’t hate her I don’t know why I can’t but I just can’t#I can’t hate her but I’m so scared
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anatomy of us (1) | alpha!ghost x f!omega!reader
we cannot change who we are at our core.
type: limited series, part 1 (6.4k), AO3 in an attempt to tame an unruly alpha, you are given. he did not come with warning labels. but neither did you.
series cw: reader described as plus-sized/curvier, alpha/beta/omega dynamics + universe, dark!simon, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence, military criticism, protective!simon, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, size kink, praise kink, unprotected piv, cumplay, oral (fem!receiving) 18+
Whenever she woke up marked the last day of the rest of your life. One moment, the world inside of your head was unnervingly quiet. The next, someone else was there, whispering in the dark, taking over.
You aren't proud of her. No, you hate her. There is no one you hate more, you don't think, because she lets the direction of the fucking wind distract her from what really matters. She paints her environment in a soft, glazed picture, and she tries to hold up her canvas and convince you that her reality is real. But then you blink, and you get flashes of how dull the sky really is and the dirt that stains your shoes, and you know that she's just a liar.
A controlling, desperate thief.
When you heard her voice for the first time, you begged your reflection in the mirror to just kill you already.
If you were an alpha, maybe you could've just drawn away into yourself and lived a quiet life in the middle of nowhere. If you were a beta, perhaps the weight of nothing would've given you a little more freedom to do the things you wanted to do.
But no. You're an omega. Nature's servant. A natural follower. Destined for nothing except to open your legs and say, "yes, alpha, all for you," because if you are anything but complacent, you're unwanted and a waste of your very being.
Your eyes stung when you took your first little pill. They rattled in different colors in a little orange bottle, and it felt like sand as it dissolved under your tongue. Even though it makes you sick, you take them anyways. Even though the pills change colors and shape and efficacy because you buy them from someone different every time, you take them because it makes your omega shut the fuck up finally.
You bury her. And you won't let her out.
The truth of it is that you're only fighting yourself. Your omega, she is you, isn't she? She's a part of you, she makes up your very genetic makeup, and to hate her is to hate yourself. But nature is cruel–it gave you years of freedom. Years to know what life was like without her, when she was dormant, asleep, just waiting for you to finally wake up.
Then your very self locked the cage. Your fingers claw at the bars, but it's no use. It's your very own punishment. So in turn, you bury her, too, silencing her cries, quieting what she wants most in the world, because it isn't fair, fuck you, you whiny bitch.
She's a pathetic puppy; and you are more than happy to step on her fucking neck.
Your aim is off today. The sound is muffled through the earphones you wear, but they've never thrown off your balance before. When you lean over the railing and squint at the target papers towards the back, you can see the bullet holes just a few inches off center.
You're never off-center.
"Getting rusty on me, Kit?"
You turn around, setting the gun down, and you smile wide when you see a familiar face. You pull the headphones off, putting them aside before making your way towards her.
Kate Laswell is surprised when you throw your arms around her and hug her tight. She smells good; she smells like chocolate, dark chocolate, something bittersweet. She's got that edge to it that they all do, something a little heady and all-encompassing, but she's the only alpha that you've ever found comfort being near. You see her nose scrunch a little when she embraces you back.
You must stink like synthetics. You care, only because you hate to make her nose sting this way. It's never been meant for her. At times, you thought maybe you could do a little convincing; maybe if you batted your lashes enough, she’d take pity on you, hide you away in some CIA shack with her deep on a Montana farm and play house. You’d cook, and she’d protect, and you’d be perfect little alpha and omega until the end of your days.
But Kate doesn’t like baggage. Not even the sweet kind, and especially not the kind that makes it even more difficult to make the hard decisions.
Kate isn’t a soldier. She makes choices based on the greater good, the lesser evil. She doesn’t get to be selfish. She doesn’t have that luxury.
When you pull away, she looks down at you strangely. She looks tired. Her dark hair is in a mess of a braid tucked under a cap, and she looks like she hasn't slept in days. Her attempt of a smile emphasizes the lines around her eyes. You open your mouth to tell her something, but she shakes her head.
"I'm not here as a friend," she says softly, and you frown a little.
"Aren't...haven't we always been friends?" You ask, and Kate lets out a shaky sigh, nodding her head behind her.
"We need to talk. C'mon."
You retrieve the gun and holster it, fastening it into your thigh holster before you follow her. She has a car waiting outside, a big, black SUV with the door already open for her. When you get inside, she knocks on the divider, and the car immediately starts moving. You brace yourself against the side of the car as it speeds off, reaching for a seatbelt.
"Jesus, Kate, what's going on? I-I have training later, I can't–"
"You're not...going back to base," she says evenly. You frown a little, leaning back in your seat, and you put your hands in your lap as you try and get a read on her. Even exhausted, Kate is hard to decipher. She has a stone-cold expression, calm and unbothered, and you curse her CIA training for making her impossible to understand, to even get a glimpse of what she might say next. Her face makes you anxious, and the scent in the car that changes puts you on edge.
"Okay," you scoff a little. "Then where am I going?"
Kate sniffs a little, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn't break eye contact with you when she says, "Wheels up in 30. I have an assignment for you." She reaches under the seat, pulling out a manila folder, setting it down beside you. When you pick it up and flip it open, you narrow your eyes.
"I'm..." You shrug your shoulders, "I'm not really CIA. You don't give me orders."
"As of one hour ago, you're mine. And this...this is your duty."
Your eyes blur as you skim the text on the pages. You flip through the papers flimsily, getting more and more irritated until you throw it at her, your chest rising and falling fast as you pant, barely able to see her through your tears.
Program. UK. Field assignment. Mate. All the keywords to make your stomach curl and your autonomy shrink in front of your very eyes.
"Kate, don't do this," you beg her softly. You soften your voice, and you let your omega drip syrup into it. You want to see her eyes dilate–you want to make her protectiveness kick in just enough that she might just appease you. It’s desperate, and you know it’s wrong, but you do it anyways, you have to. "Please don't do this. Please. You fucking promised me, you promised–"
"You need to understand that I don't have a lot of fucking choices," she says sharply. She pities you, that much you can tell. She looks pained, but it doesn’t matter how pained she might feel because it isn’t happening to her. It’s happening to you, and she put you on that base so that it wouldn’t happen to you, and she tricked you into getting into this car, and now it’s her–
"Kate, I'll do anything, please," you gasp. You reach over and grab her hands, tugging her towards you. "You know. You know what...w-what I've been through, what this all is, you know...please. Please..."
You promised me. You gave me your word.
"I can't–"
But the CIA can’t be trusted for shit.
"I'll be yours," you try, squeezing her palms. Appease. Beg. Bare your neck. Give her what she really craves. "Just claim me yourself, a-and...and we don't have to do this, w-we can...I-I can go back to–"
Her face contorts, offended, disgusted. You try and swallow down the sting of her rejection, but you cannot help yourself. You would do anything to not be subjected to this fate, to the fate she promised she'd save you from. The only alpha you have ever trusted, and she's pulling away from you, bit by bit.
"I could never do that to you," she interrupts, shaking her head. "I couldn't."
"But you'll do this instead?"
"It's the lesser evil," she says finally, pushing your hands back. It aches. Despite you never leaning towards her, it is still an alpha turning their nose up at you, and the thing inside of you cries at the feeling; she begs you to do more, but you swallow her down, fingers itching for another pill just so you can really squash her singing. "And in my world, that is the best I can hope for."
"It's punishment!" You cry, and she reaches over, cupping your cheeks, pulling you close. You scrunch your face at her touch. Her hands are cold, and they do not welcome you. "A-And for what? For being something that I can't change?!"
"It's mercy," she whispers. Her thumbs stroke your cheeks in soft circles. "I can't protect you anymore, do you understand? They don't want you there, and I can’t take you with me. Even taking meds, even spraying yourself to shit, they don't want you, and I can't protect you if they send you away, do you understand me?" You start to cry, closing your eyes, and you hear the familiar voice in your head preening. She's desperate, slipping through the cracks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you try and force her backwards. You’re panicking, and maybe she’s trying to help, but you hate her. "I have to get you out of there, and this is the only way."
"Please..."
"I can't protect you," she says gently. "But he can. And he'll be good to you. I promise, this...this I can promise."
You rip yourself away from her, curling into yourself as you scoot away from her as far as possible. You press yourself against the door, tucking your knees into your chest. Whatever passes by outside is a blur, and your brain doesn’t register any of it. The only thing in your head is betrayal, traitor, those sick, stupid bastard alphas, all of them–
"Fuck your promises," you whimper, and when she reaches out for you again, you flinch, burying your face into your hands.
Kate is a liar. She never keeps her promises; that’s her job, it is what she does. The CIA is nothing if they aren’t incredible liars–it’s what they’re known for, and Kate takes to it like a fish to water. As far as you are concerned, she lured you in with bait, and now she's shut the door on a trap. It is lined with padding, soft, delicate, but it still holds you back, it still keeps you still and stagnant and forever chained to an existence that you detest more than anything. She used you; it was in her best interest to keep an omega under her thumb, to do with you as she pleased when she needed one, and you suppose once you are taken, she will find another to do the same with. She will give another desperate one like you false hope, and when she needs another omega to keep someone else complacent and willing, she will offer them up with her signature on paper–just like that.
She tries to touch your hand before you board the plane. She tries to meet your eyes, get your attention, anything. You cower when she reaches out, and when she steps backwards, you walk on.
You never look behind yourself. Not even when you sit, and not even as the ramp closes shut.
Fighting is futile when you are who you are. It's unexpected. It's frowned upon. You are made up of something that is intended to be docile, to be big-eyed and soft. If you were a dog, they would want you to roll over and bare your belly and forget how to do anything but obey, but that is not the kind of thing that you ever wanted to be, even when you were small, even before you knew what you really were.
You hate what you are. You medicate yourself to the point of being incoherent, you bare your teeth and aggravate the submissive nature you inherit to deter any kind of match. You make yourself undesirable, not just in your physical nature but in the very essence of yourself.
You want to start over, as something else, or you want to never have been at all. You hate this place, you want them to cast you out, you want to be left to your own devices because dying alone and unwanted is better than submission; it;s better than the imprisonment that your kind subjects themselves to, willing or not.
It sickens you. You watch your own kind fall to their knees, close their mouths, and allow their very being to disappear just to make another satiated. Happy. Their entire lives, reduced to being someone else's waiting hand, someone else's property. It's sad, it's pathetic, it rocks you to the very center of yourself, and you demand more of it, you reject this life and the voice in your head that fights with you every single day of it.
She hates you, too, your omega. She claws at your insides and begs for something to drink, but you dry her out. You don't allow her to even breach the surface of the wasteland you've suffocated her with. She is naïve; she doesn't know what is good for her, she doesn't know that you are saving her from a life of constant torture. She screams for you to let her out, but you take another pill and force her back into the dark.
Or at least you did. You haven't taken a pill in days. They won't let you, even when you asked, even when you began to beg. You promised to be good if they just appeased you. You promised to be quiet if they just slipped it under your tongue, even if they injected it into your very veins, anything, just please, please, I don't want to–
Everything is surreal. You feel like you're seeing everything in color. What used to be dull and uninteresting now sparkles in your very eyes, it glows under the sun. Everything is sharper and less blurry. Sounds are clearer. You can hear the wind more loudly in your ears and feel it under the soles of your shoes. But what dizzies you the most is your sense of smell.
Everything before had been so bland. You have been under the effects of suppressors for so long that you don't think food has ever smelled so bad and so good (eggs make you gag now, and the crisps they give you make your mouth water).
They keep you confined in a small room. You are not allowed in the presence of any alphas; you can smell them passing by the door, but whenever the stink of one of them lingers, there's loud voices, lots of heavy boots. A beta comes to collect you to do a daily workout and to shower, and then you are back in your room, your meals delivered on a tight schedule (and the food, after a few days of your tray being barely picked at, gets so much better–it's better quality than you've seen on any military base, and when you asked, all they said was "lieutenant's orders").
Today is different. Today, along with your breakfast, a large black hoodie is folded underneath the tray that they leave on the end of your bed. You set the food aside, picking up the hoodie, and when you unravel it, you spread it out, gawking at the size of it. Whoever this hoodie belongs to is more bear, more beast, than human. An enormous thing, but when you pick it up, you immediately pick up on its strong scent.
You press the front of it to your nose. Your eyes flutter shut, and you sink into the bed a little as you take a deep breath of it. Warm, but gritty, like charcoal. Cigarettes. Military-issue soap. Clean. Eucalyptus. Fire. Something with depth, something with teeth. You don't realize what's happening to you until it's too late.
Alpha. It smells undoubtedly like alpha, and you're certain by the size of it that it belongs to one. You nuzzle your face into it a little, instinctively, and you don't even register your omega knocking, peering through the door that's been cracked open for her.
She squeals with delight. She's getting dizzy, drunk, and you feel a soft noise in your chest bubble as she pets the back of your mind, keening at the introduction of it. She’s giggling. You can feel her tugging at your insides, whispering in your ear–See? I told you. I told you that you’d like it.
They smell strong. They smell capable. They smell pure.
When you put the hoodie down, your legs are pressed together, shaking from how hard your thighs are squeezed. When you relax, you refrain from the need to touch yourself, but you failed before you even started. You can feel how wet you are; your panties must be soaked, and you feel yourself pulsing with some sort of distinct urge to give in, give in, give in.
It's unnerving, the lack of control you have. Your omega has always been a few feet underwater, but she's breaching the surface now, her lips gasping for air.
You try to push her back.
Stay down.
When the clock strikes for dinner, you aren't surprised by the knock. But you are surprised that when the door opens, there isn't a beta in uniform holding your tray. Instead, you cover your nose a little, blinking harshly as a large man comes into the room. He's got a strange beard and a floppy hat, and when he smiles, he reminds you of a teddy bear. You can tell just by his physique what he is, but his eyes are kinder than you're used to.
You will yourself not to trust them. You trusted kind eyes before, and now you’re locked in a prison of your own making.
"'ello," he introduces himself, holding out his hand. "'m Captain John Price. 's nice to meet you."
You glare at him, not saying a word. When he figures you won't shake his hand, he just nods. He lets his hand drop, hooking his thumbs into his tact vest, and he rests at ease.
"I've come to collect you," he says lowly. "It's time."
You pick up your tray of food from behind you and hurl it towards him. He ducks just in time, moving one shoulder backwards as the metal hits the wall behind him and clatters to the floor in a splattered mess. John shakes his head a little, scratching the back of his neck, and he clicks his tongue. You’re unnerved and a little pissed off when a hint of a grin flickers over his face.
"Fuckin' hell," he breathes. "Yeah...you'll do."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Let's go," John snaps. "Won't ask again."
When he reaches for you, you swipe the fork from the bed, stepping close and sticking the little prongs up against his chin. You aren’t satisfied until you can feel his scratchy beard against it, piercing the skin just enough.
"If you touch me, I'll shove this right up your chin through your goddamn nose," you threaten, and John’s nostrils flare, his hands going up flat beside his head.
"Easy," he murmurs, and you feel like he’s talking to a skittish mare. "Just need to guide you, that's all."
"Well, I don't want to go anywhere."
"If you don't do this, I have to send you back," John explains. "And Kate made it very clear that is supposed to be my last resort. And you don't want to go back."
"Anything is better than this," you hiss, and he narrows his eyes.
"Not this. What they do to unruly omegas..." He leans forward, snarling a little. "Ones like you. Ones that bite. And scratch. They don't deal with them. They'll sedate you and use you as training practice. And while Kate might have a heart big enough to keep you outta that place, I don't have it. So get your arse moving. Now."
You put your hand down, dropping the fork, letting it clatter to the floor. He grips you by the collar of your shirt, urging you forward, and all the hairs stand up on the back of your neck as he gets dangerously close to scruffing you. It's enough of a threat that you immediately relax, your own body betraying your emotions as it tries to make itself smaller. To appease. To submit.
"This can't wait any longer," John mutters. "Has to happen today."
Your lip trembles.
"What has to happen today?" You ask.
"You're meeting your mate," he says. You know that was the answer, but you had to ask it anyways. You think of the hoodie you received all those hours ago. The smell of him, complete intoxication. "Simon."
Simon.
"Sounds like an asshole," you snap, irritated, and John chuckles a little.
"Mmm. He is. You'll adore 'im."
You flinch at the flickering fluorescent lights as he leads you down a narrow hallway. When you pass other soldiers, John puts you in front of him, glaring and baring his teeth a little. You're confused by this sudden display of aggression on your behalf, but when you spot the looks in others’ eyes, you're grateful for it nonetheless.
You know your scent is strong; piercing the walls around you, displaying your displeasure, discomfort, fear so plainly. It's an awful thing to not be able to hide how you feel, to not feel like you have any control over how you present to others, but you have no practice masking any of it. You have been drowning your omega for so long that you didn't realize the strength of her building up behind the synthetic walls you had built. She's livid, angry, permeating the spaces in your mind that you thought were solid and now are broken and hollow inside.
You stop in front of an unmarked door. John looks over you, eyeing the jacket you wear.
"Take tha' off," he says lowly. You frown, stepping back, but he nods again. "Take it off. You'll get it back, just give it to me."
You shrug your jacket off gently, handing it to him. John holds out his hand for yours, and when you cautiously give it to him, he rubs the fabric against your wrists to soak it in your scent before disappearing behind the door. You wait outside, pressing your ear to the metal, but you hear nothing but low mumbles. You do hear a heavy gait, big feet moving around that don't belong to Captain Price, and you close your eyes as you try and see if you can hear his voice.
You don't.
The door is opened just slightly, John cocking his head to the side.
"He wants to see you."
You raise a brow.
"Your mutt?" You ask smartly, and John scoffs a little, kicking the door open wide finally. Behind it, you can see a small little office situated. Dozens of file cabinets, a stained wooden desk, a peeling leather chair. There are papers everywhere, a disorganized mess and walls filled with medals, plaques, letters, pictures of faceless men. And standing beside the desk, towering over it with his head nearly hitting the ceiling is a bear.
A fucking bear.
He's so tall. Over six feet of hulking man, big shoulders taking up too much space. You can tell just by looking at him that he has to duck his head and move his body sideways to get through the doorway you're standing in. He has big hands and thick thighs, and your lips part when you realize his thigh holster has been released as much as possible just to still fit snugly around him. He's wearing dark jeans and a thick black hoodie, and he looks even bigger with a strapped tact vest that holds numerous little gadgets, weapons (fuck, he looks like he can kill you with the pencil laying haphazard beside him).
You can't see his face. He covers it with a mask, a snug covering tucked under his hoodie with the plastic front plate of a skull sewn to its front. He's holding your jacket in one hand, the other clenched in a tight fist as you step through the door.
"Is this your dog, Captain?" You ask finally. Simon doesn't speak. He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you, taking in the way you look from the tips of your combat boots all the way up over your head. His gaze lingers on your middle, the wideness of your hips and the curve of your body.
John crosses his arms over his chest.
"Suppose so," John shrugs, rolling his eyes a little. You blink, finally making eye contact with Simon. His eyes are dark and beady. He's intense, just as his scent had been. Your omega warms your throat and screams in your ear.
Grab him. Latch onto him. Don’t let him go. Do you see him? Look at him–
"Does it bark?" You wonder, glaring. Simon unclenches his fist, rolling his fingers out a little. They twitch beside his leg. His face twitches a little, too, you can see the mask move just slightly.
"When he wants to."
"Does it bite?"
John snorts. "Mmm. Afraid so." He opens the door behind him. "Don't kill each other. If I don't see her for supper, Simon, I'll hold you to it."
When you are alone, Simon still remains silent. He hasn't moved from his spot by the desk, still in a strange staring contest with you as you stand there trying to read him. Like Kate, he's impossible; this time, you don't even have the luxury of looking over his face, although you suspect even without the mask, he must have mastered some kind of expression of nothingness. He seems like the kind of brute to give nothing away. Not even his displeasure.
"Hope you're good on a leash," you say finally, crossing your arms over your chest. "I like to go on walks."
His face moves under the mask again. Finally, he moves. He unravels your jacket in his hand, holding it open for you to put on again. You eye him strangely before coming closer to fit your arms into it.
When you turn your back to him, you realize how much of his shadow you're tucked under. When he drops the fabric back on your shoulders, you still as he leans over one side of you, bending. Without thinking, your head tilts to the side, giving him more space into the side of your neck. You do it without even thinking. Your omega bleeds through you, and you feel her warmth everywhere now, making you move, but you let her this time.
Your scent gland pulses there under your ear. He can see it, hear it practically, rushing like the blood in his ears. You close your eyes when you feel him come closer, the cotton of his mask just barely grazing your neck as he takes a deep breath.
The growl he lets out shakes you to your core. Your pupils get blown wide at the sound, and your head flops back slow, exposing more of your neck. He uses the opportunity to bend just that much more, until the front of his mask is pressed against the gland, and he can breathe you in, right at the source.
He's snarling under the mask. You can hear his teeth knock together, his tongue wetting his lips. You shiver, leaning into him, your hand raising up to caress the back of his neck as he nuzzles his nose there, taking another deep breath. You step back enough that he presses up against you from behind. You can feel his pelvis right against your ass, and you arch your back just enough to fit him right where he belongs. A gloved hand catches you at your waist, and you put your free hand on the desk in front of you until his cock is right there between your ass.
Your omega is panting. She's clawing, right there at the edge, fighting against quicksand as she's desperate to meet him. The feeling of him, the scent of him so close, it's an aphrodisiac, potent, suffocating. Something warm is wrapping around you, sliding along your skin, tickling your toes. It's between your thighs, in your mouth, wetting your tongue. You're not sure what this feeling is, but it's thrilling.
He's purring. Big, rumbling sounds coming from deep in his chest. More animal than man as his tongue comes out under the mask, and you can feel him lick a nice stripe over the raised, warm skin under your ear. Your omega is being pulled to the forefront. She’s like a magnet to him. The closer he gets, the stronger she bites into you. Your mouth drops open when his hand falls between your thighs, gripping onto you and pulling you up against him in one, slow grind. You can feel the length of him, fucking enormous, and you’re leaking into your cargos as his fingers squeeze the fat of your thigh.
"Fuck–okay!" You pull away abruptly, turning to face him. You put your hands on his chest and push him back a little. He doesn’t move at your touch, but your voice startles him enough that he moves his hands up and away from you. He straightens up, blinking away the haze in his eyes, and you swallow hard. "T-Too much..."
He huffs, moving forward to bury his face into your neck again, but you step back, putting a hand on his chest firmer this time. You have stepped out of the cloud that surrounds him, but you can still taste it, and it’s pulling you back, and you’re losing control.
"Simon," you say his name gently, and he stops, his face scrunching a little under the mask before he stands back up again. "If I have to be your mate...we need to set some boundaries." He blinks, saying nothing. "Like...a-asking for permission."
You can tell by the way his mask twitches that he doesn't usually ask for permission. He wants, and he receives.
Typical.
“What?” You ask, scoffing. “You don’t talk?”
He doesn’t move. You crane your neck to look up at him a little better, and you smooth your hands lower on his chest. You can’t help but appreciate what you feel. He’s wearing a tactical vest, but you can still feel the deep breaths he’s taking, the strong, fatty muscle under your palms. He is the epitome of sheer strength and undeniable ability. Your omega draws your hands back up his chest, over his pecs that pull taut, and they wind up around his neck as you stand up on your toes and lean into the curve of his jaw. You put your nose to it, barely. Simon moves his hands down, cupping you under your ass and picking up your weight with not even a grunt until you can press your face deep into him.
Fuck, it’s like a drug. It’s addictive. His scent impales you. He smells like war. Like chaos and smoke, and your mouth starts to water as you keep breathing him in. You pull back just enough, blinking up at him. You look a little dizzy and intoxicated, and he squeezes your ass to hold you steady as he puts you back onto your feet.
“Uhm…” You sniffle a little, holding onto him. Your hands curl around his shoulders, and you keep yourself upright like this. “I didn’t wanna be here. I don’t…I don’t want this. I never did.” You blink away tears, but he sees them when you draw your eyes back up to his. “T-They made me. It hurts.”
“Wot hurts?”
His voice scares you when you finally hear it. Your lip shakes, and when you blink again, your tears fall down your face. Simon snarls when he sees them, reaching up with hands too rough and wiping them off your face, but they keep coming.
“I’ve never been o-off my meds–” You gasp, and your breaths start to come in panicked and too fast. “Everything hurts. T-The lights are too bright, everything hurts my nose, the sheets are too itchy, and I-I can’t breathe–”
Simon moves away from you immediately. He closes a fist and pounds the lightswitch, and only the yellow glow of the lamp on his desk illuminates the room. You curl into yourself, hugging your own arms, and Simon comes back to stand in front of you, narrowing his eyes.
“I did not want you either.”
“That’s just grand, this is perfect,” you hiccup, and Simon grunts.
“But I have orders.”
“You act like your Captain is just debriefing you for a fucking mission,” You snap, glaring at him. “I’m a fucking person. I know your kind may not see us that way, but I am. I’m not a mission. I’m not something for you to win or to conquer, you fucking asshole!”
When you raise a hand to hit him, he catches your wrist before it lands. He squeezes just enough to hold you at arm’s length, and you lean forward and spit on him instead. It wets the mouth of his mask, and he nearly loses himself as his eyes flash with something dark. He looks away from you for a moment to collect himself. When he turns back, he uses his other hand to cup the back of your head, silencing you.
“You listen ‘ere, omega–” The way he says your title makes the fight in you shrink. Your omega squeaks, ducking her head, that bubble of submission pilling in your throat as he holds you so close to your naked scent gland. “Dunno wot anyone told you, but I don’t have to win you when y’r already mine.” He ducks his head, pulling you closer, and you freeze when he presses his masked mouth at the base of your pulsing scent gland. It wafts into his nose, dilating his pupils, and he snarls. “And when you inevitably lose control of yourself–you already fuckin’ are, you reek of it–I’m goin’ to sink my teeth right ‘ere, and then it won’t fuckin’ matter ‘ow you feel.”
Your eyes blur with angry tears. You gasp, your breaths hitching, and Simon seems to feed off of your fear, your misery. If he wasn’t wearing a mask, you imagine he’d be licking your tears for a chance to taste your sadness. The worst part of it all is that your omega adores it. She’s been aching for so long for this kind of authority. For that edge to tickle her right under her chin where she likes it. The whiff of alpha that she’s getting is driving her out of control, and you don’t know how make her quiet down. She’s so loud in your head, banging against the walls–give it to him, give it to him, give it to him.
“You’re a fucking monster,” you whisper, glaring up at him. It’s no use–you will never scare him. Simon is what scares other alphas into submission. In one paw, he could crush your windpipe if he wanted to, with just a squeeze. Simon hums, and you imagine him smiling under that mask, some kind of vicious grin that you would love to smack off of him.
“Tha’s right, swee’eart,” Simon mutters. “I am. ‘n now you belong t’me. Everything that you are–” He smooths his hand down your neck. You seize when his hand slides over the curve of your waist until it cups under your ass and forces you up against him. “‘s mine. Your omega–’s mine. Your mouth–mine. Your arse–mine. That cunt that’s going to take my knot like a good little omega should–mine. So y’r gonna get y’r things, and y’r gonna move them into my quarters, and then we’re gonna go get supper, and y’r gonna shut y’r fuckin’ mouth.”
“I hate you. You’re the biggest son of a bitch I have ever met in my entire life, you are exactly the kind of asshole I knew you would be, you are no different than I thought. You’re a terrible, awful, horrible–”
“I can smell you,” Simon snaps. “Don’t try to be fuckin’ smart with me, I can smell how wet your cunt is, so why don’t you just be a good girl and do as I say?”
You bare your teeth a little, and Simon sticks a gloved thumb into your mouth. Without thinking, you relax. You suck it into your mouth and sigh, and Simon rubs his thumb against your tongue, shutting you up nice and well. He traces your teeth with it, and you start to cry. You cry because you don’t know why you can’t fight. Your grip his forearm, but your nails won’t dig. Your feet are planted to the ground, and you can’t move. Your mouth sucks, and he pushes, and you’re frozen here.
He knows what to do. Doesn’t he taste so good?
He seems to like your teary eyes. The big, fat tears. His eyes crinkle, and you know he’s smiling, and you wish you could rip that expression off his face, but all that stares back at you is death. Simon growls, and every bit of resistance in you fails. Slow, like molasses, your knees buckle, and he catches you. He pets your mouth, and when he leans in and presses his mouth to your ear, all you can do is cry.
“That’s it. Good kitty.”
NEXT
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#dark!ghost#dark!simon
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loser bf! RODRICK HEFFLEY hc

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons
loser bf!rodrick, who makes a huge show of pda whenever his brother is around. he’ll sling his arm around your shoulder and be like, “yeah, greg. my girlfriend. isn’t she hot?” greg is still fully convinced rodrick’s paying you to be his fake girlfriend, though he has no idea where he’s got the money.
loser bf!rodrick, who lets you sit in on band practice and tries so hard to keep it together, but the second his bandmates start flirting with you, he completely falls apart. his drumming gets so off-tempo that they have to stop and start over.
loser bf!rodrick, who lent you his algebra textbook and completely forgot he’d been doodling your name with his last name all over the margins. when you handed it back, smirking, he looked like he wanted to die.
loser bf!rodrick, whose idea of a date is a night drive to the gas station, where you both load up on slushies and hot dogs. you sit in the parking lot and steal bites off each other’s food (even though you have the same toppings)
loser bf!rodrick, who awkwardly asked his mom to use the “nice-smelling” laundry detergent on his shirts because he knows you like to steal them after having sex and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross.
loser bf!rodrick, whose mom acts like you’re already part of the family, offering you snacks and calling you “sweetie” every time you visit. she loves to (unintentionally) embarrassing her eldest son by showing you all of his baby pictures. all the while rodrick hides in the basement.
loser bf!rodrick, whose dad corners you during family dinners and awkwardly tries to sell you on how “rodrick is really a fine young man, despite, uh… some quirks.” you just nod politely while rodrick sits there, sinking into his chair with a beet-red face.
loser bf!rodrick, whose bandmates are constantly making moves on you, asking if you “need anything” during practice or offering to carry your stuff. rodrick will get so pissed that he threatens to kick them out of the band. you think it’s hilarious how defensive he gets.
loser bf!rodrick, who always gives you the front seat in his van, no questions asked. greg has to squish in the back with the instruments, too bad lol.
loser bf!rodrick, who pretends to be terrible at eyeliner just so you’ll do it for him. in return, he paints your nails—or you can also paint his (in exclusively black).
loser bf!rodrick, who acts reluctant whenever you drag him into photobooths at the mall. the two of you end up making the dumbest faces before you lean in and kiss him right on the mouth… with tongue.
loser bf!rodrick, who lets you doodle on his arm with a sharpie, and he refuses to wash them off. they stay there until they fade completely.
loser bf!rodrick, who finally starts wearing deodorant consistently because of you. it’s not even something you asked him to do—he just noticed you sniffing his shirts a little more critically and panicked. now, he’s always freshly applied before seeing you.
loser bf!rodrick, who gets hard every time you kiss him.
loser bf!rodrick, who tries his best to keep his room somewhat presentable whenever you come over. he knows it’s still a fucking disaster by normal standards, but for rodrick, clearing a path to the bed is a grand romantic gesture.
loser bf!rodrick, who’s obsessed so with seeing your hickeys on him. he never bothers to hide them—in fact, he wears them like badges.
loser bf!rodrick, who almost accidentally used the wrong side of the condom when you had sex for the first time.
loser bf!rodrick, who absolutely melts when you tug on his hair during sex. he didn’t even realise he had a thing for it until the first time you did it. now, he practically begs for it without using words, tilting his head back and grinning like a total idiot whenever your fingers get close.
loser bf!rodrick, who keeps every random thing you’ve ever given him — notes you’ve passed to him in class, concert tickets, even candy wrappers.
loser bf!rodrick, who hates being bossed around but will do anything you ask, especially if it involves you kissing his cheek or ruffling his hair in thanks. he’s so whipped and everyone knows it.
loser bf!rodrick, who brags to greg about how sexy and smart and pretty you are, just to rub it in, but secretly feels like he doesn’t deserve you. he gets this dumb, soft look on his face whenever you’re around, like he still can’t believe you chose him.
fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
#jackie writes doawk#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick heffley#rodrick heffley smut#rodrick heffley headcanons
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breaking the rival code | l.mk
pairing. rival!mark lee x afab reader
word count. 6.1k
genre. smut · enemies to lovers trope · humour
synopsis. Mark had a way of getting on your nerves, to the point you'd even considered shutting him up for good. However, your best friend eventually planted a seed in your head that fucking your rival, and breaking the unspoken code, would be enough to finally end the long-standing feud.
warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, fingering, use of pet name (baby), choking, oral (fem receiving), haechan as best friend and instigator
A/N. i had this buried in my drafts for months but it had me screaming into my own pillow whenever i read it so, it couldn't stay unpublished for long.
"I'm going to fucking kill you, Mark Lee," she's fuming, as per usual. Eyebrows tightly knit and throwing daggers with her hard glare while Mark just laughs, "It's due next week, and you haven't even written up a plan?!"
Mark rolls his eyes, his glasses almost slipping down his nose, doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, "Relax, that's 168 hours of time to work on it, it's nothing."
She sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms in that arrogant way — as Mark would describe it, "Actually, it's less than 84 hours if you factor in sleep, other classes you have to go to, and fucking surviving. Mark, do you take anything seriously?"
Mark rubs his face in frustration, facing her, "It's the first year; none of this counts towards our grade," he goes back to doodling small Spider-Man caricatures but, as always, he can't resist having the last word, "And you're too serious, princess. Live a little."
Small things like that always set her off. She was aware of how she came across but, when it involved Mark, she only ever saw red. She somehow manages to calm herself down, realising they're in the campus library and already earning a few curious, judgemental stares.
"Mark...," she manages to whisper somewhat loudly, leaning in close enough for him to feel her minty breath against his skin, "Can we please get most of this done today? I'd very much like to be free of your presence."
Mark chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes slowly drifting over her subtle features, raising a brow in amusement — the weight of his gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Finally, he gave in and pulled out his laptop. He began clicking through their assignment brief and taking notes down, surprising even her, who started doing the same. As English literature students, it was a given that they had to read a stack of novels and articles, even for an assignment worth 0% towards their final grade.
Yet even small victories in their relationship were rare. It was a miracle that they were somehow able to work through the tasks efficiently, though that moment was short-lived before they were at each other’s throats, with Y/N starting it again.
"Mark, we're meant to critically analyse, not describe. Do you have any working brain cells in that thick head of yours?" Her fingers twitched, as if to hold herself back from clenching her fists and knocking some ounce of sense into him.
He rolls his eyes in response, jaw hardening as he scowled at her, clearly not in the mood for their usual back and forth, "We need to have a synopsis of the texts, I don't know how else you expect me to include all of the relevant info without having a short paragraph in there."
She simply looks at him in disbelief, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most absurd thing ever, "Mark... do you really think we can afford a whole paragraph just on a summary?"
He just chuckles in response, clearly uncaring. She leaned forward, her fingers digging into the desk and turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Mark’s casual smile only fuelled her irritation, but she lets out a heavy sigh, judgy eyes flicking across his face.
"You're like those pretty dumb blondes; the only thing you've got going for you are your looks, sorry to say," she sneers, going back to taking notes, but she internally curses at herself for admitting she found him at least objectively attractive.
Mark pauses, head snapping to her, his eyes flicking over her features, trying to decipher what she'd just said, or if he'd even heard her correctly under the hushed whispers of the library. He spins the pencil in his hand, eyes narrowing at her as a smug expression tugs on the corners of his lips, "You think I'm good looking? I'm flattered."
Y/N gives him an exasperated glance, snorting at his sudden change in demeanour and sitting up to look at him straight on, "I know you took me for a fool, but a blind one too? Damn," she said with a sarcastic lilt.
When Mark doesn't respond, just a cocky smirk widening — his gaze intense — she feels her heart rapidly beat against her chest and, as a way to hide the effect he has on her, she rolls her eyes for the nth time that hour, clearing her throat and focusing back on her task, "If you weren't so annoying, or if you learnt how to shut your mouth and do things correctly, you'd have a lot more going for you," she sends him a glare, "But you don't, so your looks only take you so far, and that's below average in my books."
He mocks in response, "Wow, you read? How surprising."
This time, she couldn't hold herself back. Mark did have a way with getting under her skin, so well in fact, that it led to them being asked to leave the library, only furthering their frustration and anger towards one another.
It wasn't always like this, either. When Mark had first met her, he was a shy, slightly awkward teenage boy and, the first impression she had of him, was cute. He was incredibly sweet and outgoing; it was easy for him to make friends and that meant they easily got close too. The only problem was, they were so alike in all the wrong ways. He was just too competitive and stubborn, always aiming for the top, and so was she. It was only natural that friends turned to rivals, competing with one another over everything. With that being an understatement.
From whom could get to the cafeteria the fastest, to who could submit their assignment the earliest and get the highest grade? It was competition, after competition. Most would get exhausted after the first two or three, but for them, it was thrilling, though they'd never admit that to one another.
"I can't believe your loudmouth got us kicked out of the library," his jaw hardened as he met her intense gaze, "Can't you sit still and take comments with some sort of, I don't know, strength? Because clearly, you're so sensitive over such simple, meaningless words," He slings his bag over his shoulder, already walking off.
Only further proving his point, she chases after him, tugging at his arm so that he wouldn't get away.
"You're the one who can't let things go either, always needing to have the last word, what are you, a child?" she crosses her arms and nods her head with a questioning brow, as if to say, 'go on'.
Mark just scoffs, about to walk off before turning around, his hands moving in frustration as he glares down at her, "You- you're such a pain in the ass, you know that? You really know how to drive me crazy."
He's panting, frustration evident. But it was the way he was looking at her that threw her completely off balance. His narrowed eyes flicked to her lips, brows furrowed as though he were etching her features into his long-term memory. She felt her heart drumming in her chest.
Before she could respond, a familiar yet equally as annoying mutual friend of theirs appears, snickering at the pair and their usual quarrelling, "Jeez, can't you two just fuck already?"
"Shut the fuck up, Haechan" they both say in unison, tearing their gaze away from one another with a scowl.
Haechan only snorts, glancing between the pair with an amused brow, "Clearly there's some sexual tension that I'm interrupting here, it would explain why you look at each other like that," He leans in-between them, as if to reveal the biggest secret in history, "I bet you two dream about each other too — in, you know, that kinda way."
Mark just stands there, mouth agape and in disbelief at the absurdity Haechan was spewing, looking between the two. Y/N just scoffed, grabbing the man by his bag and pulling him away without so much of a word. Haechan waved a chaste goodbye to Mark as he was being dragged off to God knows where.
Someone was going to die today, and it was definitely Haechan.
It was quiet. Way too quiet. The coffee shop was empty, hence for the low whispers of the baristas in the far corner, and a cheeky Haechan sitting before her, happily drinking his iced tea after telling his two closest friends that they should fuck each other. She groans, letting her head fall into the palm of her hands.
Usually, this coffee shop was a place where she could find peace and solitude. It was bright, with large windows that let light in all throughout the day, creating a florescent streak of amber and pink through the thin stickers attached to the panels. The colour schemes could easily brighten one's day as whites and pinks peppered along the walls.
The foliage brought life to what would otherwise seem like a cold, simple design, and the bakery added a subtle hint of beige, creating a natural environment. But the best thing about any coffee shop, was the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the sounds of the machine working, or even the quiet conversations. Though, sounds were non-existent today, except for her constant groaning, which started to bother her best friend.
"If you make one more frustrated sound, I'm leaving," he takes another sip of his cool drink, "Is it because of what I said earlier? Just know, I wasn't lying, that would definitely help you two."
She pulls her hands away, pursing her lips as she started twirling her straw, watching the milk mix with the coffee and caramel, "No, it's because I'm... I don't know, frustrated?"
Haechan glared incredulously, "Clearly."
"Not like that, I meant... I miss how Mark and I used to be, how we would laugh at silly jokes, or talk for hours without it having to turn into a competition, but now everything he says or does has a way of getting under my skin," She takes a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling at the taste, "He could just be sitting there, doing absolutely nothing, and I'd I just want to-"
"Want to what?" Haechan asks, ears perking up, waiting for a gotcha moment.
"Well, what I usually do." She shrugs, going back to her drink.
Haechan takes everything she says in, nodding his head slowly, "Anyway, it's sort of funny as Mark said the same kinda thing to me the other day...," Haechan takes a sip of his drink, whining when he finds it empty, "He said he missed the old you, or when you guys used to be friends."
She pauses, meeting her waiting friend’s gaze. Her brows furrow. Mark... missed how they used to be? But she doesn't say anything to Haechan, keeping her thoughts to herself.
The usual smug expression returns as he leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under the table out of habit as he crossed his arms behind his head, "Anyway, as I said, you need to get your frustrations out in other ways. You clearly have a thing for each other. The way you express it is a little... unconventional, but you're both immature, so I'm not surprised."
She simply looks at her friend in disbelief, lips parted as she gapes at him, to which Haechan only grins annoyingly at her. He also had a way with words, just like Mark, except he seemed to understand boundaries a lot better, and was chill enough to not want to fight back.
"What? Please tell me you two at least have moments of either flirting with each other or checking the other person out-"
"No." She scowls, shivering at the thought. Though, she couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at her earlier, brushing off the thought, "It's hard enough to even look at him without wanting to strangle him."
"Okay, so you're into choking, got it." Haechan chuckles, nodding as if to make a mental note of it.
"No, I'm not into that! Whatever, look, I don't have a thing for him, so just drop it." She looks at him with a serious, intense gaze, as if to emphasise the fact she really didn't want to talk about this anymore.
Her friend only nods, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Okay, just know Mark would definitely jump you if he had the chance — I mean, which guy would put up with your shit? No offence."
She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink in hopes it would be refreshing enough to block out her growing irritation, "Anyway, the sooner I get this assignment done, the sooner I can move on from this Mark topic."
She quickly pulls out her phone before Haechan could drop in another one of his grand ideas, finding Mark's contact and immediately sending him a text. She almost spat out her drink at how fast he had responded.
You: Let's just get this assignment done with. I don't feel like getting kicked out of yet another establishment, so just come over to mine tomorrow or something.
You: *sends her address*
Mark: Fun.
Mark: I'll be there around 4 if that works
You: 👍
She bit her nails anxiously, eyes glancing between the door and the clock on the wall - each tick of the hands signalled it was only getting closer to 4, which was when Mark said he would arrive.
That wasn't why she was anxiously boring holes into the clock, however. She could curse the heavens, the earth and the 12 Olympians, but instead, she chose to curse the lust demon himself, aka Haechan. She buried her head in her hands, tugging at the roots of her hair in frustration. She can't believe she dreamt of Mark last night for the first time and, it wasn't just any dream — which was the worst part. Why did her mind have to be so vivid and make Mark so incredibly sexy? She had no idea.
When a knock came from the door, she stood up a little too quickly, rushing to it and praying that Mark looked far from presentable than he had been in her dream. But he wasn't, of course. She'd never seen him in jeans before and the green hoodie was the cherry on top. She swallowed hard, peering up at him as he adjusted his glasses.
"Are you going to let me in?" He raised a brow, his dark eyes glancing over her features in suspicion, taking a quick, subtle glimpse at her plaid sweatpants and pink t-shirt that didn't do much to hide the outline of her bra. He swallowed hard, tonguing the inside of his cheek in annoyance yet, the only thing that swirled in his mind were thoughts of how fucking attractive she was without even trying.
His annoyed expression grounded her temporarily, falling back into her usual demeanour as she rolled her eyes and held the door open wider for him, "If I catch you slacking once, I'll kick your ass out of here."
Mark gives her a side eye, frowning before kicking his shoes off, "Are you trying to motivate me not to do the work?"
She laughs sarcastically, leading him to her room as she props herself on her bed, noticing Mark looking over her interior.
"I expected your place to be put together, but not drenched in pink," his gaze trailed over her shelf, taking note of the various photo frames and mini ornaments.
She chuckles under her breath, pulling out her laptop and notes, "What, too girly for me?"
He turns his gaze to her, a quiet silence envelops them for a moment, and she takes that time to admire him. She knew he was attractive — objectively — but never had she looked at him in that way. The kind of way that made her heart and mind race.
Mark finally straightens up with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and getting his things out as well.
It felt strange having Mark in her home. If it weren't for getting kicked out of the library, her apartment would have been the last place he would be at. Though, now seeing him sat almost politely at a respectable distance from her, typing away on his keyboard quietly, made it start to feel right somehow.
She opened their shared document, reading the notes he was typing up. Even though he tended to be a lazy ass — or a procrastinator, as he would call it — there was no doubt he had a way with words. When he really put his mind to something, he would always deliver quality work. At times, she'd look back on why they had turned rivals, or enemies, and then she'd see what a complete genius he was. Maybe it was always her. Maybe she was just jealous that, no matter how hard she worked, Mark would always be ten steps ahead.
"I wrote up all the notes," Mark's voice cut through her thoughts, "How far did you get?"
She turned back to her laptop, pursing her lips at the blank screen. When she took her time responding, Mark scrolled down the document to where her cursor was and sent her a deadpanned expression, "What did you say about slacking off...?"
She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, so she picks the secret third option and scowls, "I did more work than you yesterday."
"That's old news," he sighed, looking through their to-do list, "I thought you wanted to get this assignment done and dusted because... what was the reason again? Oh yeah, you wanted nothing to do with me."
She scoffs, sitting up as she points an accusatory finger at him, "Don't act like you don't feel the same way."
Mark clears out the already completed tasks on the list, colour coding the other bullet points to distribute the work evenly between them, "Oh I do, and I wonder why." He doesn't even spare her a glance.
"Go on."
"Maybe it's because you continuously bitch over every little thing, it's no wonder Haechan is the only friend you have and, it's probably because he's waiting for some kind of green light," Mark's bitter words reeked of jealousy as he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.
"Excuse me?" She shrieks before she leans over the bed and grasps at his hoodie, his hand immediately grabbing her wrist, "That's too far, Mark, even for you."
He raised an unamused brow at her, fingers tightening on her wrists, yet she doesn't waver, "Maybe, but I'm sick of it. All you ever do is complain and treat me like some sort of idiot and, when I give you the same energy, I'm the problem."
His voice is tight, jaw hard as he doesn't break the eye-contact. She pulls him in closer, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, "What a joke, you're just as much of a problem as I am and, you know what? Maybe Haechan was right, maybe we need to fuck for us to finally pull our shit together."
The moment those words leave her lips, she regrets them. From up close, he was even more attractive that those words naturally came out. Mark's eyes widened comically and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.
His brows furrowed, "Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually suggesting that?" his voice carried a disbelieving tone despite his cheeks growing redder by the minute.
If it weren't for the dream she had last night, or that stupid green hoodie he was wearing right now, she would have laughed it off as a joke or even knocked him out in hopes he'd forget what nonsense she'd just spewed. However, all she could think about in that moment were his hands gripping at her plush thighs, spreading them apart as he lodged himself between her legs, his soft lips parting against hers desperately. She swallowed hard.
"Yes, I am suggesting that," she doubles down, the words more confident now. She knew she wanted him, even if he drove her bat-shit crazy. Even if he'd think she's bat-shit crazy.
It was almost laughable how wide Mark's eyes had gotten, his lips parted in shock, "you're fucking serious, Y/N?" This was too cruel of a joke from someone like Y/N. He knew she would rather curse him out than make absurd suggestions such as sleeping with each other. And the more he thought about it, on top of the intense gaze she carried, the more he believed she was being serious.
She leaned in, her warm breath fanning against his skin. She could smell his musky cologne — it was a scent she felt she could easily get addicted to, "I am serious, Mark," her big, doe eyes peered up at him through her lashes, "Hell, I even dreamt of you last night thanks to that blabby-mouthed Haechan."
Mark suddenly grows flustered, averting his gaze. She dreamt of him? His words practically came out like a croak from the nerves, "H-hey, that's a little..."
She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue his sentence yet he'd only grown quiet, his jaw clenched as he processed the situation. He felt his throat go dry and, the way she was staring at him made him feel breathless - a little too out in the open under her gaze. It was taking everything in him to hold back, but their shared history and his growing annoyance towards her kept him stuck in place.
"What? Mark, don't be a pussy," she scoffed. Despite her harsh words, they had rolled off of her tongue like honey, "Do you want this or not?"
Mark's head whips to her, his brows furrowed, "I am not...," the words faltered on his tongue as his hands came to rest behind her on the bed, his nose brushing against hers. He was way bigger than her, his arms caging her in, looming over her, "I'm not as much of a loser as you think I am, Y/N," the words were bitter; however, he felt like he was falling too deep.
Being this close to her, with her wide, surprised eyes staring back at him, her flowery perfume more prominent at the proximity, and her warm breath... He couldn't find it in him to deny it anymore, "Fuck, I do want this," he muttered, the whispered confession slipping past his lips before he himself could process the words.
At that, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose fully against hers, "I want this too." Her soft words drew him in like a moth to a flame and it felt like the string that held onto his sanity had snapped.
Mark pressed his lips to her glossy, pink ones that tasted like cherry, breathing in her flowery scent, to which she parted her lips against his in response. His hands gripped at the soft flesh of her waist, pulling her in impossibly close. He tasted minty, mixing with his musky cologne and it was like she couldn't think straight anymore, losing her grip on reality and, instead, losing herself in him. In Mark. Her supposed enemy and rival.
It didn't take long for her to pull him on top of her, her back falling against the mattress whilst her leg rode up his side, hooking over his hips. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping at her skin and down the valley of her clothed breasts. She was going insane, and it was his fault, "Mark, take off my damn shirt already," she groaned in frustration, sitting up.
He didn't waste any time. Stripping off her shirt, he subtly admired her plush breasts which sat pretty in her lilac laced bra, barely leaving anything up to his imagination. As much as she got on his nerves, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him by being effortlessly gorgeous even as her brows were tightly knit. He pushed her back down onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head, "Are you always this demanding?"
"Only with you," she mutters, tugging at his hoodie impatiently, to which he chuckles, taking it off. She couldn’t help but gawk at him, sending him a glare for being more attractive than her dreams could ever do justice.
He kisses her again, his hand trailing down the side of her breasts, not giving her time to run her mouth. Then, his hand pulls the bra down, letting her breasts slip out as he cupped and kneaded the soft mounds, groaning into her mouth at how they fit perfectly in his hand. He rolled the nub between his fingers, grazing his thumb over them.
Mark kisses down her body, taking a nipple into his mouth — biting and tugging at it as his hand continued to twist the other between his thumb and index. He relished in the soft sounds that escaped her lips and the way she tugged at the locks of his hair.
He continued to move down her body, his finger hooking under the waistband of her sweatpants as he met her gaze, "I know you beat my ass over this, but you sure this is what you want?"
She deadpanned at him, "You just made out with my breasts, Mark. If I didn't want this, I would have stopped you there."
Mark just rolls his eyes in response, slipping her sweatpants down, "Could have just said yes."
She's about to retort when she feels his hand cup her, finger tracing the clothed slit of her pussy and she has to bite her lip to stop her from making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction so soon. Didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him — more than she'd like to admit.
However, Mark was as stubborn and competitive as she was, and he wouldn't hold back until she gave in. He pushes her underwear to the side, leaning in so that his warm breath fanned against her sensitive folds, causing her to whimper.
'Fuck,' she thought.
Mark, without warning, slowly licks a stripe up her slit, his flat tongue drawing out a shudder from her — back naturally arching. Each time, he'd go in for more, slowly bringing up the pace. Her thighs clamped around his head, holding him hostage until he groaned and grabbed onto her plush thighs, pinning them to the bed; fingers leaving marks along her soft skin. Her own fingers grabbed at anything they could, from the sheets beneath her, to the healthy lock of hair on his head, letting them knot around her digits and tug with every wave of pleasure he had given her.
She could feel his cocky smirk as he sucked on her clit, enjoying every moment of her falling apart on his mouth. Falling apart for him. When he pulls away from her, she let's out a frustrated whine to which Mark only laughs at, "Open your mouth."
She sends him a skeptical look, "Fuck no."
Mark's patience wears thin, "Don't be a stubborn brat now."
Surprisingly, she obliged and he pushes his fingers past her plush, kiss-swollen lips. Her mouth suckles on the digits, tongue swirling around them, and he retracts his fingers with a pop.
"Fuck, your mouth really does have uses other than spewing insults and demands," he teases, voice low, tracing her entrance which had her letting out shallow breaths.
"At least it has more use than your fingers-" her words cut short when he pushes his finger in, palm pressed to her clit as he looks up at her with a 'you sure about that?' look.
It doesn't take long for Mark to add a second finger, curling them in search for the spot that would make her see stars. And then, he finds it, and she let's out a sharp gasp which only grows louder when his lips wrap around her clit, continuing his earlier ministrations of lapping at her folds like a man starved.
Just as her dreams failed in visualising just how attractive her nemesis was, it had also failed in expressing how utterly, impossibly, and irritatingly good he was with his hands, lips, tongue-
"Mark, fuck-!" She starts to tense under him, eyes pierced shut as she chases that feeling of ecstasy.
"I believe I'm getting there...," Mark chuckles, the vibration of his voice fluttering against her.
And, just as she starts to see the twinkling behind her eyelids, the light at the end of the dark tunnel, and a glimpse of the heavens, Mark pulls away, leaving her empty, wanting, and embarrassingly needy.
Forget Haechan, Mark was the number one man on her hit list.
In a second, he's over her again, cupping the back of her neck and lifting her slightly up to kiss her. She can taste herself on his tongue, feel the way his lips apply just the right amount of pressure to say he's here, and it's so soft, so gentle, so wanting — it was the perfect contrast, the perfect contradiction to the image she'd created in her mind of him. His thumb brushes against her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair, before he pulls away, forehead resting on hers as he breaths against her.
His eyes flicker open to gaze down at her; warm and oh so inviting. It felt like the Mark she once knew. The genuine, loving and calming person. Though his next words threw her completely off balance, and she was quick to retract her claims.
"I'm going to fuck that sexy, infuriating attitude out of you, baby," he lets the pet name draw out. In every other context, with any other person, she would have cringed at that word, but it felt so undeniably attractive coming out of his lips, that she wanted to hear him say it more than once.
Mark got up off of the bed, pulling out his wallet to fish for a condom that had been in there for God knows how long, chucking it on the bed next to her and kicking off his jeans and boxers in record speed. She barely had a millisecond to admire the sheer length of him before he was on her again.
His deep brown eyes kept their hold on hers and she could see a subtle hint of affection; the space between his brows crinkling in focus as he slowly pushed into her. His calloused fingers pressed along her waist, leaving white marks along her curves, while she could feel every ridge, vein and pulse of his cock.
When he bottomed out, she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close. Needing him closer to her. She could feel the rough planes of his body pressed to her soft ones as he started to rock against her. He gripped her thigh, pushing it further up so he could angle himself better, remembering the spot that had her seeing stars earlier.
Each time he'd hit that spot, she'd clench naturally, rocking her hips to meet his that had him softly groaning by her ear. He smelt so good, felt so good, was so good. She felt her mind start to fog up, jaw slack from the loud, erotic sounds that forced its way out from her throat. It was too much in the best possible way.
That wasn't as far as Mark would go though, he wouldn't stop at just good. He wanted best. His hand snakes up her body, gently wrapping around her neck — thumb pressed to her jaw — as he applied enough pressure to her pulse point. She knew then that maybe she did actually enjoy being choked or, at least, enjoyed anything Mark did.
She throws her legs around his waist, pulling him down, desperate to feel more of him, to reach her release she craved, pride long forgotten, "Mark... Mark, fuck- please..."
Mark pressed a sweet, uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek, "Please what, baby?" he brushed the strands away from her forehead, never halting his movements.
"Need more of you...," She could barely get the words out, but Mark knew exactly what she meant. Without time for her to process, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillows, fingers tangled in her silky hair as he snapped his hips into her with more strength.
She could have sworn she started hallucinating seeing stars in the room from how deep he was reaching in this new angle, hitting her spot with added ease. Her glossy lips stayed parted against the pillows, drool staining the cotton case as she let out soft grunts.
Mark's head rolled back at the filthy sounds of her and how fucked out she looked. It made him want to carve this scene into the deepest part of his memory, "You're doing so good for me... So pretty like this."
His soft voice did not match the roughness of his fucking, but it made her clench around him, "C-close..."
Mark hummed, grabbing locks of her hair and tugging it back so that she arches against him, "Be a good girl and come all over my cock, then."
She nods eagerly, reaching behind him to grab at his hips, urging him to go faster, harder. She chased that release as if seeking closure from her pent up frustrations at Mark and hers usual bickering and challenges. She sits up to lean against him, knees pressed to the mattress and head rested on his collarbone — his own arms wrapping around her body. Finally, she came, body shuddering in his hold and, at the feel of her convulsing around his length, Mark bit her neck, muffling his sweet sounds as he followed suit.
They stayed like that for a while, panting, hair sticking to their foreheads. She wouldn't be close to exaggerating by saying this was the best sex she'd ever had, but she would also blame that on the sheer tension they carried for years around one another.
When Mark slips out of her, she fully expects him to make some usual smart comment, but he only pulls her with him as he lay in her bed, keeping his arms around her, "Who knew we'd be so compatible?"
She snorts, "I can name at least one person," she thinks of her best friend, the whole reason this night even happened and speeding up the process between them.
Mark smiles, snuggling into her and letting out a soft sigh, feeling sleep catching up to him, "I hope this isn't just a one time thing, though," he says suddenly with a soft voice, "you don't know how long I wanted this for. Wanted you. It drove me insane trying to be... I guess, respectful and casual about it all."
She sat up, turning to look down at him with a playful look of disbelief, "I call bullshit, you weren't respectful about nothing. Not that I'm complaining, it's attractive seeing you annoyed."
Mark rolls his eyes, smirking at her, his cockiness returning, "I knew you found me more than just objectively attractive, you're down bad."
She easily admits it, "Yeah, I am. But you're in way deeper for asking Haechan for advice of all people."
Mark immediately sits up, his face pale from the shock despite his cheeks being flushed, "Dude- Wait, what?"
"We're on dude terms now after you fucked an outline of my body into this mattress?" she scoffs, her crude words making Mark increasingly more flustered than he already was, "The choking kinda gave it away. I just know Haechan threw that in conversation with you."
Mark laughed sheepishly, pulling her into his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "Guilty as charged. Though, I'm proposing we get back at his arrogant ass by not telling him a thing. We'll slowly drop hints to mess with him a little — see how long it takes for him to catch on."
"I'm in," She giggles, feeling sleep overtake her as she nestled into Mark's chest.
Before today, neither of them would have imagined that fucking each others rival would be the secret to finally ending the long-standing feud and breaking the rival code.
© hyckstarz
#mark lee smut#mark x reader#mark imagine#mark lee#nct mark smut#nct smut#nct x reader#nct#idol au#kpop au#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#haechan#mark smut#꒰ hyckstarz ꒱
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆ let the light in — 𝐋𝐍𝟒 𖤓
( 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 )
( 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 )𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾,𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆,𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾,𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝖿 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍
🝮
landonorris

liked by pierregasly and 2,351,095 others
landonorris feels so good to be back home
yn my sweetheart 🤍
⤷ landonorris my babylove
landolovesyn stop he always looks so sad whenever y/n isn’t with him :((
lewistearmeup it’s the fact she was at the race she just went back to monaco earlier then him 😭😭
danielricciardo Rest up mate ❤️
oscarpiastri Lando without y/n: 🖤💔👿🤒😖🤬🖕 Lando with y/n: 🤗😍☺️🫶🏻💘💖
⤷ mclaren Can confirm ✅
georgerussell63 You never smile like that with me…
⤷ landonorris well you don’t let me do the things i do to y/n???
⤷ alex_albon welcome back bud 😀
⤷ yn 🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️
mclaren “we miss you in the paddock queen” we all say in unison
⤷ landonorris she only missed friday???
⤷ mclaren Really? You wanna complain after I found you crying in your drivers room cause you “just need a hug from the one person who can make everything alright” ??
⤷ landonorris must you always expose me to my fans that i always cry whenever i’m not with y/n?? 😤
⤷ mclaren Wasn’t that surprising you literally posted yourself crying in Singapore when you were drunk after y/n went to go to the bathroom
⤷ landonorris WELL SORRY FOR HAVING SEPARATION INZINGTY SUE ME 🙄
⤷ mclaren Anxiety*
⤷ landonorris I HAVE DYSLEXIA SUE ME
⤷ mclaren It sounds like you want us to sue you?? Doesn’t seem like a good idea but If you say so
lilymhe the y/n affect is real
maxverstappen1 Didn’t even see you smile this big in Miami
estiebestie i need myself a y/n to my lando
♥︎ by author
sharls_licklayer he’s so gentle with her #needthat
charles_leclerc Guyssss how sweet 🥹🥹 he’s calling her his home 🥲 my heart 💔❤️
⤷ landonorris shark week?
⤷ charles_leclerc it’s always shark week 😈🦈❤️ #forzaferarri
⤷ charles_leclerc WAIT WAIT WAIT NO PLEASE I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT
🝮
yn

liked by nbsmallerbear and 2,899,147 others
yn how could anyone hate such a sweet boy
maxverstappen1 He ain’t that sweet when you’re not around trust me
georgerussell63 THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU LANDO NORRIS
⤷ alex_albon LN4 DEFENDER 4 LIFE
lordperceval typa unconditional love i need in my life
⤷ oscars.pastry the sweet gentle love everyone deserves
sainzpoet y/n is the number 1 lando norris defender
carmenmmundt The sweetest people ever we need a double date soon 🩷
⤷ yn we love you carmen 🩷 and yes i agree i miss you so much
love4lando cause why did everyone start hating him after he started winning?? before miami it was “landos day is coming, lando we could be world champion” and when it came everyone’s like “it was luck he doesn’t deserve it, he’s not championship material, he’s so disrespectful”
⤷ yn fr like let the man breathe damn he can’t say anything without being criticized
carlossainz55 Always matching, always leaving me out 😔
⤷ yn we tried to get to to match with us and you said “no that is childish”
⤷ carlossainz55 Well sorry I didn’t want to wear an “alpha” pj onesie
⤷ yn whatever 😒
mclaren 1 of our 2 golden boys 💛
danielricciardo PAPAYA BUCKET HAT!!!!!!!
alexandrasaintmleux Sigh, I miss you 😢
⤷ yn i miss you too 😓 let’s run away to italy for a bit
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Packing my bags rn
oscarpiastri Guys this is false, I sleep in the hotel room next to them and occasionally me and lily have sleepovers with them and trust me, he is not that sweet behind close doors if you catch my drift (🍆🍑🍌🍒)
⤷ landonorris really osc?? you just had to let the world know y/n calls me daddy?
⤷ yn do you really want to add another person to the list of people who don’t like you?
⤷ landonorris as long as your not on that list i don’t care who else is baby 🤍
⤷ landonorris wait a minute
🝮
landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1 and 3,826,815 others
landonorris my solace
yn light of my life
⤷ landonorris keeper of my heart
yn forever proud of you honey 🩷
⤷ landonorris i couldn’t do this without you
lilymhe This is really cute ig 🙄
mclaren Oh young love 🧡
⤷ all4lando shut up ho you ruined his chance for a real fight in the championship
♥︎ by author & yn
estiebestie please why did lando and y/n like that comment there so petty i love it 😭
alexandrasaintmleux So sweet 🩷🩷🩷
charles_leclerc Lando we can be world champion I said
⤷ landonorris our time will come 🥹
maxverstappen1 It was a fun season getting to battle with you mate I can’t wait for next year ❤️
⤷ landonorris me either i finally got a little taste of it, congratulations mate you deserve it you fought hard to get here ❤️
⤷ alex_albon acting like it’s abu dhabi over here
⤷ landonorris what’s that i hear?? a little bitch?? omg how crazy
⤷ alex_albon well…y/n is clearly doing a good job at cheering you up so i’m gonna go before i start crying
lewishamilton Great job mate it was amazing seeing you and Max battle it out up until here I can’t wait to see how it will go next season ❤️
⤷ landonorris thank you lewis it means a lot
⤷ alex_albon alright seriously what’s with all the sappy stuff we have two more races
⤷ charlos4eva two more races until charles and carlos part ways 💔
⤷ alex_albon way to bring down the mood charlos4eva 😒 you must be fun at parties
⤷ charlos4eva THE MOOD WAS ALREADY DOWN READ THE ROOM ALBONO
⤷ alex_albon do not yell at me charlos4eva i’ve had a bad day
⤷ charlos4eva clearly
⤷ alex_albon zont make me mad i am not the one
⤷ charlos4eva what are you gonna do? come find me? you clearly have the time cause you retired from the race early 😂
⤷ alex_albon I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN
⤷ charlos4eva oooh shiver me timbers 🥶
🝮
yn

liked by aishamian and 2,217,942 others
yn sweet lover of mine 💌
landonorris my one love
⤷ alex_albon get a load of this sap fest
⤷ landonorris i’ll feed you to a shark
danielricciardo Oh who is that handsome man 😍😍
⤷ yn let’s not
francolapinto bye guys my rides here
⤷ yn LETS NOT
georgerussell63 ho is u magical?? how are you not talking him out of jumping off a bridge right now?
⤷ carmenmmundt It’s the y/n affect George did you not pay attention to my power point presentation I worked hard on?
⤷ georgerussell63 No I was too busy thinking what I did wrong to make you love her more then me
⤷ charles_leclerc I get you so bad
⤷ pierregasly Me 2️⃣
⤷ alex_albon Me 3️⃣ 😔
⤷ carlossainz55 Me 4️⃣ 💔
⤷ estebanoncon Me 5️⃣ 🖤
⤷ oscarpiastri Me 6️⃣
⤷ maxverstappen1 Me 7️⃣
⤷ lewishamilton Me 8️⃣(😏) 😓
⤷ landonorris ???
⤷ lewishamilton Roscoe forgets about me whenever y/n is around 😔
⤷ francisca.cgomes Me 2️⃣ 😢
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Me 3️⃣ 😪
⤷ carmenmmundt I’ll telling you guys, it’s the y/n affect
⤷ landonorris wait what about the smirk though?????
⤷ lewishamilton I think you know what I mean lando cmon 😂 (🏆)
⤷ danielricciardo Me 9️⃣ 😞
⤷ danielricciardo Damn it lando you ruined it
⤷ landonorris ???????
⤷ danielricciardo Are you stupid or dumb?
⤷ landonorris ???????????????
⤷ danielricciardo y/n come put him to bed it’s past his nap time
⤷ yn awhhh come to mommy babyyy
⤷ landonorris i’m coming 😫😫
⤷ mclaren Let’s not 😊
⤷ yn let’s not ruin lando’s chance at a championship battle next season 😊
⤷ yn OMG 😱 my instagram got hacked 😔 well whoever said that is very wise 👍
⤷ f1 Now y/n…
⤷ yn bite me
⤷ fernandoalo_oficial who is this DIVA💜
⤷ yn how do you know what that means?? oscar didn’t even know what that meant until last week
⤷ fernandoalo_oficial i stay woke cuhz 🤙
🝮
yn

liked by kyliejenner and 3,617,902 others
yn a little retail therapy to sooth the soul
pierregasly “a little” we didn’t even make it to the hotel before you and kika asked to go to the mall
danielricciardo Lando and his lil sugar baby
lilymhe Make his pockets hurt ❤️
oscars.pastry ik lando’s wallet is crying
⤷ landonorris didn’t even make a dent
⤷ alex_albon k me next then ☺️
⤷ landonorris no thank you all my money goes towards y/n ☺️
alexandrasaintmleux Mall dates with you two are my favorite I miss you both 🥲🩷
⤷ yn we miss you too 🥹 can’t wait to make our bfs follow us around at the mall in abu dhabi 🥰🥰
landonorris give daddy some sugar 😊
⤷ maxverstappen1 They could never make me hate you Lando
⤷ angryginge13 i’m coming daddy
⤷ landonorris yeah the only person allowed to call me daddy is the love of my life so
⤷ angryginge13 i know??
⤷ landonorris and that is not you
⤷ angryginge13 oh yeah i knew that…if someone tells you they found me crying in my room DO NOT BELIEVE THEM…
⤷ yn yeah how about we don’t talk about our sex life online for the whole world to see
⤷ georgerussell63 You’re not denying anything Ms sugar baby 👀👀
⤷ yn I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS
⤷ georgerussell63 Oh my goodness you dirty dirty girl what would your daddy think of this?
⤷ yn shut up whore
⤷ georgerussell63 You kiss your daddy with mouth?
⤷ landonorris she does a lot more then kissing if yk what i mean
⤷ yn SHUT UP FREAK
🝮
yn

liked by wolfiecindy and 1,121,053 others
yn qatar
sainzpoet she’s so over it
francisca.cgomes what a weekend
⤷ yn only reason i survived this weekend 😭
alexandrasaintmleux 🩷🩷🩷
lilymhe Missin you 😔
⤷ yn come visit 😏
⤷ lilymhe packing my bags rn 😘
⤷ alex_albon oh ok!!! 👌🙂(💔)
oscarpiastri My hero fr 🥹
⤷ sharls_licklayer why is oscar showing so much personality??
maxverstappen1 This post is very cute…
⤷ yn you and george match each others freak so well ❤️
⤷ maxverstappen1 Thank you queen…
⤷ alex_albon why is he being so ominous??
⤷ danielricciardo He’s scared of y/n
⤷ maxverstappen1 No I’m not???
⤷ danielricciardo Oh why did you text me asking if I thought sending y/n a birkin would make her less mad at you then???
⤷ maxverstappen1 I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS
🝮
yn

liked by haileybeiber and 2,516,407 others
yn don’t bug, your girls are back 🌞🌑
alexandrasaintmleux Are we about to kiss?
⤷ yn i think we are
⤷ charles_leclerc Sigh
⤷ landonorris please don’t
francisca.cgomes lindaaa 😫😫💕
⤷ yn you’re next 😈😈🫦👅 pucker up
⤷ francisca.cgomes *sprays breath spray in mouth* *puckers lips towards you*
⤷ pierregasly excuse me?
⤷ yn you’re excused
rhode beautiful smiles, i wonder what lip gloss you guys use? 🤔🤔
♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux
lilymhe a girls trip soon is a must
⤷ yn let’s go to australia after the season ends
⤷ oscarpiastri You just want to go because it’ll be summer there
⤷ yn shut up let me live
landonorris i miss you babylove
⤷ yn i miss you too sweetheart
⤷ landonorris just lit the candle of you
⤷ lewistearmeup i had a stroke trying to read that. and i still don’t understand
⤷ pierregasly Ok so basically lando is the clingy bf final boss so he had a bunch of candles made to smell like y/n so whenever she’s not with him he lights them and he takes them to gps as well
⤷ danielricciardo He set his drivers room on fire once while we were teammates
⤷ carlossainz55 He did once with me too
⤷ oscarpiastri He’s done it three times this season and twice last season and the sad thing is she hasn’t missed a single race weekend this season or last season
⤷ landonorris you guys really had to tell everyone i bring them to races?
⤷ pierregasly They deserve to know lando.
landonorris prettiest smile i’ve ever seen
⤷ estiebestie to be loved the way lando loves y/n must be so great
carmenmmundt So prettyyy 😍
⤷ yn i’m coming for you carmen 💋💋
⤷ georgerussell63 I’m not even gonna fight it anymore 😔
sharls.eclair the sun and the moon 🤍
♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux
hoeforsainzzz you two are the epitome of elegance and beauty 💐🤍
♥︎ by author & alexandrasaintmleux
🝮
yn

liked by leahkateb and 1,655,481 others
yn abu dhabi you were so sweet 🩷 so so proud of lan & osc for all they achieved this season, definitely a season to remember
oscarpiastri 🫶🫶 thanks for all the laughs and memories can’t wait until next season
⤷ all4lando 😪😪😪😪 this is so sweet
landonorris my calm before the storm, i truly couldn’t have done this without you
mclaren Thanks for keeping lando sane this season we miss you already
♥︎ by author
alexandrasaintmleux My paddock pard 🩷
⤷ yn ugh i can’t wait until next season march is to far
⤷ charles_leclerc We’re spending new years together?
⤷ yn charles just…okay??? gyash
francisca.cgomes my babyyy 🤍
⤷ yn my love 🙂↕️
landoscar481 did you just stab me
maxverstappen1 I’m so glad this season is over you scare me more then my dad
⤷ yn stay scared but congrats on the championship fr 🤍
⤷ maxverstappen1 Thanks gng 🤙🤍
⤷ kellypiquet ???
lilymhe Soooo when we going to Australia??
⤷ yn start packing 😊
⤷ lilymhe packing rn
⤷ francisca.cgomes me 2️⃣
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux me 3️⃣
⤷ carmenmmundt me 4️⃣
⤷ iamrebeccad me 5️⃣
⤷ flavy.barla me 6️⃣
⤷ lilyzneimer me 7️⃣
⤷ roscoelovescoco me 8️⃣ (😏)
⤷ landonorris ???
⤷ landonorris me 9️⃣
⤷ landonorris damn it i just ruined again
⤷ yn ???
⤷ landonorris please don’t leave me
⤷ charles_leclerc Just accept it lil bro
⤷ carlossainz55 The hurt doesn’t last forever lil bro
⤷ pierregasly Trust me lil bro it gets better over time
⤷ maxverstappen1 I’ll take care of you lil bro
⤷ oscarpiastri We’ll get through this together lil bro
⤷ alex_albon the sun will shine on us again lil bro
⤷ estebanocon It’s for the better lil bro
⤷ lewishamilton Cmon lil bro, don’t watch her leave you’ll make it worse
⤷ georgerussell63 You are not alone lil bro
⤷ yn go hold hands and cry somewhere else you’re all annoying
⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh honey
⤷ pierregasly Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed
⤷ charles_leclerc Is everything okay at home?
⤷ landonorris am i not doing good at making sweet sweet love to you?
donatella_versace Donatella VERSACE💜
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#f1 smau#f1 imagine#carlos sainz smau#charles leclerc smau#max verstappen smau
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──── favorite position. m.s.

warnings. none :) just fluff and a curse here and there . not proofread! <3
part two
୨ৎ
“are you fuckin’ goin’ through the early stages of cataracts or somethin— like what is the problem here?”
feeling a slight vibration against your chest and hearing the hushed sounds of matt trash talk his brothers through the headset as they all played fortnite together, the pure irritation in his tone as chris just couldn't land his shots, was enough to make your eyes slowly flutter open.
you had come over earlier to just hang out with the boys after they were done filming a car video. after going out to eat and coming back, the four of you decided to play a couple of rounds of fortnite together. you weren't the best player ever by any standards, rarely playing games by yourself whenever you had little downtime to spare, but you found yourself where you'd always find yourself when you were willing to play with them; on matt's lap in his desk chair.
it wasn't weird or anything. it was easier for the both of you since he always allowed you to use split-screen, something neither chris and nick were willing to do since they complained it ‘made it difficult to aim’, and if you sat anywhere else you definitely wouldn't be able to see anything. you never sat on him inappropriately, either; you'd always pick a leg and sit sideways on him, curling into a little ball against his chest since that was the most comfortable.
not that matt cared if you were on one thigh or practically straddling him. he didn't mind one bit. in fact, matt lived for the moments when you'd agree to play fortnite with him and his brothers because then he knew he'd get you in his favorite way. with him. curled up against his chest with an arm wrapped around your waist, practically enclosing you into his embrace as both hands gripped his controller.
you guys were friends, sure, and maybe friends shouldn't like the feeling of their friends on their laps. but matt relished in the feeling and he'd be lying if he said he felt guilty.
shortly after three rounds of the game, he felt your body get slightly heavier, heard your breathing even out where your head was resting under his chin, your grip on the controller practically nonexistent as it felt onto his lap. you'd fallen asleep and matt just didn't have the heart to wake you up. how could he? you were in his favorite position against him, at your most vulnerable, your most trusting. this was an opportunity far too good to pass up.
unfortunately, matt got very competitive when it came to playing more than two hours worth of fortnite. like right now.
chris wasn't landing his shots, nick kept fucking with the build tool, and he was trying to win against two other players who seemed to have been playing fortnite since its release date. all of his sudden jerks and tensing up whenever he'd die or lose combined with his hushed criticism eventually lead to now.
you waking up with your face pressed against the crook of his neck, close enough where you can hear chris respond back to matt in an equally annoyed tone.
matt felt a feather-light touch on his skin, your eyelashes brushing up against his neck as you started to open your eyes, and tensed up as his own eyes went a little wide. shit, fuck she's waking up, was all he thought as he gently pulled back enough to look down at you.
“shh, it's okay, you can go back to sleep,” he murmured softly once catching sight of your eyes in a squint, his hand reaching up to mute his mic as his focus was no longer on winning.
he could hear chris in his ears immediately start bitching once he dies, calling him a hypocrite, but he ignored it.
“n-no, i’m—” you pause so you could let out the small yawn that you were apparently holding up before letting your eyes close briefly, rubbing them so you'd wake up. “—shit, sorry, i didn't mean to knock out on you.” you'd never accidentally fallen asleep on him before, never slept around him really unless it was a thirty minute nap on their couch and he was sitting close by. for all you know, he was hiding his annoyance from you so you wouldn't feel bad.
“eh, it's fine. i don't mind being a human body pillow,” he shrugged his shoulders and softly smiled, his eyes taking in your freshly awakened features. the way your lip pouted slightly, the way your eyes were still droopy… there were so many things he wanted to say to you at that moment, yet couldn't.
you softly yawned once more and started to shift so you could get off his lap and at least go to the couch, but then you realized his arm was still around your waist, still holding his controller, essentially trapping you in his embrace still. before you could ask him to let you go, he spoke up first.
“hey—stay with me, will you?”
he wanted you to stay with him? like this?
“are you sure…? i mean, i know i’m not exactly the lightest person ever—”
“don't start that bullshit. just go back to sleep, yeah? i’ll try to keep it quiet so you won't wake up... again.”
you had to admit, you were still pretty tired and being held like this by matt was sort of… comforting, in a way. you weren't much of a cuddler but there was something there that made you nod your head to his wishes and rest back against him, burying your head right under his chin into his chest where you could hear him exhale like he was waiting for you to say no.
a small smile found its way on matt's face and he unmuted his mic once more, making sure to keep his volume close to a mumble so he wouldn't disturb you.
and so you went back to sleep. and matt continued to enjoy you just how he liked you.
-----------
desspeaks! sigh i'm a sucker for a good lil fluff moment, what can i say? slowly figuring out my aesthetic yall this is so much fun why didn't anybody tell me tumblr was this much fun anyways until next time
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut
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Dean's attempts to dismiss criticism for separating Nani and Lilo has a lot of bullshit and ignorant logic to it, but this particular explanation is by far the stupidest.

Nani having no remaining family or trusted neighbours or friends to take Lilo in wasn't a plot hole for the remake to fix. It's the whole fucking reason there's even a conflict about Lilo's custody in the first place.

In the original film, the threat of Cobra possibly taking Lilo away and putting her in the foster system isn't just Nani being sad and sentimental that she can't see her sister anymore (like the remake implies).
It's the very real danger of a vulnerable (and heavily autistic-coded) indigenous little girl being sent against her will to live with complete strangers, who may not understand or accept her individuality, abuse her or God knows what else. And neither Nani or Lilo herself have any say in the matter.
If Nani did have a close friend, neighbour or even another relative that could look after Lilo on behalf, that would have been the first option well before Cobra and child services ever got involved. Which is exactly why the original film includes no such character.
Which is where the issue of Tūtū and the new ending in the remake comes in.
If Tūtū is able to talk to the social worker at the last minute and arrange to become Lilo's guardian, then it can only mean that was able to do so the entire time, yet she inexplicably chose not to, even when knowing full-well what was at stake and seeing for herself how the sisters were struggling. And from Nani's evident surprise in the ending, Tūtū clearly never even entertained this idea to her at any point before springing it on her here.
Even worse, since Nani has been forced to surrender Lilo to the state, rather than giving her custody to Tūtū directly, the state now has full freedom to change their minds and send her where and whenever they want, and neither Nani nor Tūtū would have the power to do anything about it.
Which, again, wouldn't have been an issue if this really nice, caring and loving neighbour, who is definitely a good character that we should like and root for, had stepped in for Lilo and Nani as soon as their parents died. But because the rest of the plot still has to follow the original (despite her presence radically changing the circumstances) she just… didn't do that. So now this new solution is too little, too late, and the film ends with virtually nothing changing for Nani and Lilo's dilemma compared to the start of the film.
Nani surrendering Lilo to the state is already a horrible ending regardless of who she goes to, but the very existence of Tūtū as a character actively undermines the rest of the story, and it ironically creates a major plot hole where they were trying to amend a non-existent one.
Oh, and by the way, Dean. Y'know the whole thing about how an auntie or uncle could have stepped in to help the sisters?

They did get an auntie and uncle in the original, but you made one of them irrelevant and you made the other one the villain for no reason!
#lilo and stitch#live action remake#lilo and stitch 2025#lilo and nani#Tutu lilo and stitch#cobra bubbles#rant post#plot hole#bad writing#dean fleischer camp#I really am beyond pissed off at this movie now
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hello! i saw ur post and im excited to read ur works so i decided to give u a request! hope u dont mind :3
m!reader who is really slim, not to the point he's unhealthy but just think of him having every girl's dream body, and then there's m!reader's bf who wants to see m!reader under all that baggy clothing but doesn't want to be too pushy so he waits until they finally decide to make love and the moment m!reader's bf sees such a heavenly sight, all he wants to mark him inside out!! kinks r up to u but i do would request creampie :3
First request from our lovely anon! Your wish is my command <3
"𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 ٭"



[OC!Malcom x Sub!Male reader]
"You were always avoiding the topic of sex when it came to your boyfriend, but being so stressed over the course of your semester. You just needed something to relieve stress. Luckily your boyfriend is just so happy to give it to you.
Contains: 18+ , sweet -> smutty, body worship, size difference, creampie, praise, insecure+anxiety filled!reader
Let me know if you have any feed back or criticism! Or just how you feel about this~
───────────────────────────
If there were a man that knew how to make you feel loved, it was your boyfriend.
Malcom was infatuated by your very existance. The way you laughed, spoke, and moved— by God it was like you put a curse on him. The smell of your cologne and shampoo had filled his senses; he had always held you close like it was his last.
You knew his love was bigger than anything else, but it always caught you off guard whenever he said it so casually. How were you able to get your hands in a man that had the biggest heart in the world? You weren't so sure.
"It's so unfair!"
You had felt yourself flinch from the sudden declaration; it was your friend, who had been laying on the carpeted ground of the living room in your apartment. She had began to talk about her exe's while you both worked on a document for your college assignment, honestly if you didn't know any better— she probably only came here to vent about more of her failed relationships.
"You seriously wouldn't believe it! The fucking asshole had the audacity to comment about my sex life! Like— if you want pussy that badly go to a prostitute! Or all the other fucking girls who you keep switching between every week!"
She huffed, pressing her face on the pillow she had taken from the sofa to muffle her uncontrollable yelling. Sofie had always been a bit easily agitated, but today was her last straw apparently.
"Why'd you even date him?"
You asked, pausing your typing on your laptop to lean back on the sofa while she rolled around on the floor, kicking her legs in the air. Your friend let out a sigh and took the pillow off her face, she looked extremely tired, did the situation really bother her that much?
"Look man.. He had good dick! But the asshole had something worth bragging and decided it was his whole personality! He was pretty big too so—"
Too much details!
"Okay stop! I don't wanna hear the details of you sex with him."
You shudder at the very thought of it, this girl was shameless, but she was your bestfriend so you couldn't complain about your choices.
"Whateverrr—"
Sofie sat up from the floor and stood up, heading towards your kitchen— your semi-kitchen anyways. She grabbed the caramel pudding that was stashed underneath, it was still so weird how she could just find the snacks Malcom buys you.
" anyways I probably shouldn't complain to you, not when your boyfriend was sent by God apparently. Seriously! He keeps buying you shit, my boyfriends couldn't even buy me flowers!"
"It's because he's nice to me, besides I buy him just as much the amount as he does for me."
Sofie teasingly rolled her eyes and peeled the packaging seal of the pudding, grabbing a spoon to eat.
"Mhm sure. Oh yeah— he dicked you down yet?"
You coughed out loud, choking in your own saliva; caught off guard by her words. Did this girl just wear no filter whenever you were around? Usually she was more shy with people.
"𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘦! Why are you so sex craved!?—"
"I am not! I just haven't heard much from you about yours, is he that bad?—"
"—well I wouldn't know! "
You both paused, sitting in silence. You didn't mean to say that—it was true but it didn't have to be said!
Closing your laptop, you put it besides you, theirs no way you could work under these way too personal questions.
"Oh, really? I heard Malcolm was pretty good. Did he not want to? Kinda fucked up if so." Sofie said, scooping a spoonful of pudding in the cup to shove in her mouth. Walking back to you to sit on the couch.
You shook your head, it wasn't like he didn't want to have sex with you. It was the fact that you were too scared to even show your body to him, you were slim, yeah it was almost every girls ideal body type— but you didn't even know if it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴. You were already in disbelief by the fact that he even reciprocated feelings for you, sex was the last thing that came into your mind.
But it didn't mean you could avoid the image of his muscular arms caging you while you layed helpless at his mercy, not mentioning the fact that he constantly walked around shirtless in your apartment— You fought your urges every day at that point.
"Well if not, I say you should, we already finished our exams you might as well get some relaxation in your life before our semester is over— we only have to submit a few of our projects left anyways."
You felt your cheeks burn, it was ridiculous. The thought of finally making love to him made you feel completely weak, you weren't even sure if he wanted to have sex with you.
"—He's probably been waiting for you to give permission or something."
You could only hope she was right.
This is embarrassing.
You layed on your bed for what felt like hours, waiting for him.
"Why is he taking so long? Ugh, I might throw up."
Sitting up, you moved from your bed to open your bed side cabinet— you had bought some lube and condoms from the store just a bit earlier, having to go to the counter to purchase the said items made you want to curl up into a ball, for fucks sakes—
Of course the cashier wasn't the only one to witness you buy them!
You were an adult.
You weren't supposed to be ashamed for buying them, or even about sex in general! But you were a virgin, someone who had stayed far away from any form of sexual intimacy for the sake of your own dignity— and now you were offering it to 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
"Calm down, [Name]. If he doesn't want to that's fine, you can just cope with it and move on!"
You felt yourself shaking, dammit you felt pathetic. It wasn't your fault your mom wanted to keep you safe! Maybe this was a bad idea, if he didn't say anything then that probably meant he—
You felt a sudden pressure wrap around your waist, the figure burying it's nose at the crook of you neck.
"Hi baby.. I missed you.."
You made a quick reaction and closed your cabinet, praying he hadn't just seen what you prepared.
"M-Malcom! Hi— did your practice go well?"
Turning your body around to look at him, lifting his face off your neck—you gently caressed his face with incredible amounts of affection. While he had determinely locked his arms around your waist, seemingly needy for your touch.
"It was fine.. Took too long, it was a pain in the ass.. "
You nodded, as he leaned his face against your hand. Malcom had always been a bit clingy when he was exhausted— desperate to touch you and to feel his cold hands on your warm skin.
Malcom was beautiful, he had bronze skin that developed from all the times he bathed underneath the sun, and green eyes that just lit up every time he had something say. His hair was flawless, his sister had always taken care of it; dark brown and with a few strands of his hair framing his face— not to mention the mole underneath his lips. [Name] was desperate to see what else is underneath just his beauty, what would he look like when they were indulging in sinful acts, what would he whisper, what would he do.
—You wanted to know...
But, he looked so tired. Probably desperate to just lay in bed and cuddle, we're you really gonna be selfish enough to take that away from him? You didn't want that, so maybe it was alright to wait a bit longer.
"[Name], I heard from Sofie you wanted to talk to me about something.. "
Malcom whispered, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes, not bothering to break eye contact.
Ah, so Sofie had been out to get you.
"Its— not important, you're probably exhausted right? Let's just go to bed—"
As you were about to pull away from his hold, he tightens his arms. Damn his muscular body!
Malcom was determined to get your words out of you, a tired Malcom wasn't easy to deal with.
"You know I don't like you lying to me, spit it out, hm?"
He kept his body firm and pressed you against his chest, he smelt good, he probably showered before coming here.
"I just— it's nothing."
Malcom sighed, giving you one last look of dissatisfaction. He let's go of your hug, which made you whine a bit, his body was warm! Before sitting down at the edge of your bed, pulling you by your arm to fall on his lap. Fuck, this wasn't the best position for someone who had just been craving to get fucked by the man in front of him. Your face was getting warmer and warmer each time he looked at you, this was gonna be hard.
"Please baby? I just wanna know what's botherin' you.. That's all."
He looked a bit sad, wrapping his arms around you waist once more to pull you closer to him, with your legs in between his hips. This man was seriously not helping you.
You let out a sigh, finally giving up on holding your ground. It wasn't like it was that strong anyways.
"I-Its just that, I noticed how we were both a bit stressed out during the semester.. And it made me think, we hadn't really done much to relieve ourselves... So I thought.. Maybe you wanted to.. "
"Make love?"
You blinked, his eyes were soft, but they looked crazed— like he had been waiting so long for this very moment. It honestly made you feel a bit nervous, you weren't prepared for the reaction he would give.
"Ah— yeah, I wanna make love to you, please.. I wanna feel you." You could die from over heating.
But that seemed to be the words he needed to hear, his lips pulling up to a soft smile.
"You could've just said so, I've been wanting for you.."
Before you could respond, he took your lips.
You held onto his bicep to avoid collapsing into his arms, reciprocating the heated kiss. Your abdomen felt like it was burning, just as you were desperately trying to taste every inch of his mouth. His tongue was dominating, sucking onto yours as your salivas was mixed with the messy kiss, occasional gasps and moans leaving your lips.
"Been waiting..so long— fuck."
"ah.. haa..Malcom—"
He pulled away, before returning for another serving, you could feel your head spin a bit. This much more intense your previous make out sessions.
You pull away this time, the string of saliva showing the previous connection of your lips. The illuminating lamp at the top of your cabinet was the only thing that lit up your otherwise pitch dark room. It has how you could see the look of hunger Malcom gave you, he didn't move his face any farther from just an inch, you could feel his hot breath hit your face. He pressed his lips on your right cheek, giving it a wet kiss before lowering his attention to you other half.
"You're so responsive.. [Name], strip for me, yeah? ."
"I-"
You couldn't believe this, when did Malcom become so blunt.
Despite your thoughts, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, it was pretty big compared to you. If anything all of your clothes were to big for you, hiding your body unintentionally. So when you had pulled it off, Malcom stared. He looked so deeply enamored by how your body was made— how well it was made for him.
"You look so beautiful.. Such a pretty body, been hiding their away from for too long haven't you? [Name]."
He connected his lips to your neck, suckling at your skin as he licked and nipped the same spot, stopping and moving to the next. You let out small moans, which made you bite your lip to silence it, but Malcom didn't seem to appreciate it— pulling his lips away from your awfully sensitive skin.
"Don't do that, I wanna hear all you pretty sounds, I want everyone to know how good you feel.. "
You could only reluctantly nod, and let your whined moans strain— your throat from how intensely Malcom was sucking at your skin.
He lowered his attention each time he successful left a mark, using his calloused hands to rub the side of you waist, lowering his hand to squeeze your ass, which made you bite back a squeal.
"You're so cute [Name], wanna see all of you okay?"
You could only nod again, as he gently pulled you shorts down along with you briefs. Showing the obvious erection that had built up throughout the whole thing.
"Such a cute cock.. "
"H-Hey, stop saying embarrassing things.. "
Malcom let out a chuckle, as he kissed your jaw, letting your clothes fall on the floor. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bed as gently as he could, he supports himself on his knees while pulling his shirt off, throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the others.
"You are so fucking beautiful— [Name]"
He leans down to kiss your stomach, going back up to kiss you cheek. Why was he just so loving?
𝘖𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
"I-I bought lube, it's in the cabinet, s-so it'll be easier to..you know."
Malcom sat back up and reached his hand to slide open the cabinet.
"Came prepared huh, baby. Want we to stretch you out?"
"Y-Yeah.."
Malcom smiles, grabbing the tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount on his hand, spreading it throughout his fingers.
"Gonna slide it in okay?"
"O-okay"
He leans back down to hold you and just as he promised, he slid one of his finger in—fuck his finger was bigger than you thought.
"Hm.. You tried stretch yourself out.."
You nodded, burrying your face in his shoulder while he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.
"M' fingers weren't—ah!— e-enough.."
"You did good, I'll do the rest.."
You gasped and wrapped you hands around his torso, your nails piercing at his back, but he didn't seem to mind, only inserting a second finger in to thrust in your hole. The cold lube and his thick fingers were going to kill you, this was too much of a combination.
Malcom was a lot bigger than you thought, he was practically hiding your body from just how broad his shoulders were, not to mention the tent in his sweatpants weren't going unnoticed by just how— big it was..
"Aah—! f-fuck Mal— why are your fingers so big!?"
You screamed, feeling practically all three of his finger simultaneously out thrusting in and out of your hole. This was unfair, you were going to cum untouched at this point!
"You're just small, baby. S'not my fault you're so reactive.." He grinned, his canines displaying. This bastard!
"You—ahh!— wha—"
He hit your spot, and he didn't stop—curling his fingers to press your prostate, which just made you cry out a moan, your toes curling from the unexpected pleasure. This was too much.
He kept going, pumping his fingers and putting pressure on your prostate.
"M-Mal I'm gonna!—"
You came, squirts of white sticky cum came out the tip of your cock, you were holding on for so long. But Malcom looked satisfied, his smile never faltering as he kissed your tear filled eyes, licking away the salty water.
"You did so well baby, m' gonna fill you up now alright?—you look so pretty while cumming."
He pulled his fingers out of your hole, much to your disappointment. Malcom slid his sweatpants off along with his boxers, pumping his cock a few times before grabbing a pack of condom in your cabinet.
He was big, it was obvious, you knew it was going to be possible— but seeing it is leaving you speeches.
"Like what you see? It's all yours honey."
Malcom tears the condom with his teeth, it was hot. You weren't even going to lie about that, but seeing how he was rolling the condom on his cock made you feel dissapointed— you wanted to feel everything, his cock and his cum. You wanted to know how much he could shove inside you before it was too much.
"Ah... C-Can you not wear the condom?"
He looked back with a bit of confusion.
"Hm? Didn't you but this..?"
"Y-Yeah but, i— I want you to fill me."
Something seemed to have snapped inside of Malcom, he let out a small chuckle and dove back to your lips, giving it a rushed kiss.
"I'll fill you to the brim, don't worry baby.. "
He pulls the condom out his cock, throwing it the the side in favor of lining his leaking tip at your gaping hole. Malcom grabbed your thighs and pushed your knees to your chest, letting your cock lay pathetically on your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed his cock in.
You let out a shrilled moan, throwing your head back against the sheets of the bed while Malcom had leaned to connect your lips to his, trying to distract you from the hissing pain that was your asshole.
"Relax baby, it'll be in soon.. "
He kept kissing your lips, as you had wrapped your arms round his shoulders, clawing at his back. You would feel bad if it weren't for the incredible feeling of his cock filling your body, it was big—so big.
After a few minutes, you could Malcom's movements stop.
"It's in— m'gonna move now, alright baby?"
"haa—o-okay.."
Malcom's thrust were slow at first, which made you gasp and moan whenever he penetrated in. After a while his pace began quicker, making his cock go deeper and deeper in you.
"S-Shit, you're tight— fuck, you feel heavenly."
You could only cry out, as his cock moved deeper in, feeling every push that rush all the way to your throat. Both of you sweating, panting, and moaning about how good it felt.
His eyes glued onto yours, never breaking eye contact, his hair sticking slightly to his face as he caged you beneath his arms, this was like a fantasy. His cock was moving in and out as he whispered praises to you.
"You're so beautiful, fuck."
And—
"C-can't believe—shit— you were hiding such a sexy body away from me, hun. Not gonna stop until your filled and full, alright?—"
This bastard, acting like he could just say shit like that without making your heart drum. Malcom had kept thrusting his hips, chasing his climax just as much you craved to be stuffed full of his cum.
After a few more thrusting he came, strings of his thick warm cum filling you— to the point where it leaked out of you. But Malcom kept this thrusting, shoving his cum inside whilst latching his lips into yours.
Along with his cum, you came with him, your cum spraying pathetically on your stomach as it went limp.
And finally— he stops, using his cock to plug his cum inside, preventing it to spill out of you. You were full, the feeling of the warm liquid sitting inside your hole as his cock remained inside, you would die from this if you could.
You were both left panting, trying to catch your breath before he grins back down at you.
"How about another round, baby?"
You sipped the mug of coffee that your boyfriend had left you, even leaving a note as a good morning. He had only left a bit ago but he was planning to stay inside the dorm with you to have a date night. You couldn't wait.
A sudden ringing interrupted your thoughts, you checked to see your phone— it was Sofie.
"I should probably thank her.. "
You answered the call and pressed your phone to your ear.
"Yo, [Name]! Hopefully your fuck session went well, I heard it all the way next door! "
"Sofie I'm going to fucking kill you."
✩꙳I hope you enjoyed that! I had never wrote sex scenes before so I hope I did well~
-> Feel free to request more! Be as detailed as you'd like.
#caramelcoloredkiss -> Fics/Drabbles#bottom male reader#x male reader#male reader#sub male reader#oc x male reader#amab reader#oc x reader
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celestial alignment ꔛ armin arlert x reader (pt. 2)

a/n: the banners just get weirder.... part two to in your orbit but idk if u need to read that one to understand this one lmao 😝🙏 #idk why this one is so much longer than part one but yolo
words: 9.6k
cw: nerd!armin, college au, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, fwb (kinda) to lovers, confessions, smut, blowjobs, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, MDNI !!
ꔛ
The morning after the party, Armin woke with a pounding headache and fragments of memories that made his face burn crimson against his pillow. But even through the haze of his first-ever hangover, he couldn't bring himself to regret a single moment of what had happened between you.
Three weeks had passed since that night, and your astronomy project had become both the most productive and least efficient academic endeavor of Armin's college career. What should have been straightforward work sessions frequently dissolved into lingering touches, stolen kisses, and eventually, hurried excuses to abandon the library study room for somewhere more private.
Armin frequently worked shifts at his part-time job at the cinema on top of being the project leader. It was confusing to you how he had time to do anything besides work and school, but he managed to play an unhealthy amount of games and watch an embarassing amount of anime whenever he got the chance.
That was, unless you were around. After your hookup at the frat party in Jean's room (something Armin would never allow him to know), you and him had spent a considerable amount of time together.
You continued working on the project together, the other members eventually showing up to the meetings Armin hosted, but things were obviously different than they had been—and no, Armin did not regret anything.
In fact, he'd shown you how little he regretted the encounter many times since then. He'd act as though he wanted your special input on the project when he invited you over, only to not keep his hands to himself the entire time you'd be at his place.
You'd sat beside him at the desk in his room, looking at his PC where you were looking over the slides and ideas from your groupmates.
"This one's just ridiculous," he said, his chin rested in his hand. "I suppose graphic design doesn't come easy to everyone."
"I don't know," you teased, "that neon green and purple combo really makes the statistical analysis pop, don't you think?"
Armin groaned, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "It's physically painful to look at. I'm going to have to redo this entire section before submission."
"Always the perfectionist," you said, nudging his shoulder with yours.
"Someone has to be." He clicked through a few more slides, his knee occasionally brushing against yours under the desk. "Otherwise we'd be presenting with clip art and Comic Sans."
You reached for the mouse, your hand briefly covering his. "Let me show you mine."
Armin leaned back in his chair, watching you navigate through the shared folder. You could feel his eyes on you rather than the screen, that subtle attention he'd been giving you since the party. It made concentrating on the project increasingly difficult.
"Here," you said, opening a new file. "This is what I was working on last night."
Armin's casual expression shifted as he leaned forward, eyes widening slightly as he reviewed your slides. The casual criticism vanished as he scrolled through your work.
"(Y/N), this is..." he paused, scanning the detailed analysis you'd prepared. "This is really good. The way you've visualized the data is exactly what we needed."
You felt a flush of pride at his genuine appreciation. "Yeah? I spent way too long on it, honestly."
"It shows." He turned to face you, his expression softened. "You didn't have to go this in-depth."
"Well, you're not the only perfectionist around here."
The corner of his mouth twitched up into that half-smile you'd grown increasingly fond of. His eyes dropped briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.
"I think we deserve a break," he said quietly.
Without waiting for your response, he leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek. Unlike the urgent, heated kisses you'd shared before, this one was gentle, appreciative—sweet in a way that made your heart flutter unexpectedly.
When he pulled back, his thumb traced your cheekbone lightly. "Sorry," he murmured, not looking sorry at all. "I've been wanting to do that since you walked in."
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "You don't have to say sorry anymore, Armin. Not for that."
His smile widened, and he leaned in again, this time catching your lips with more confidence. The kiss deepened slowly, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he pulled you closer. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the way his lips curved against yours when you smiled into the kiss.
One of your hands found its way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss further. His other hand slid down to your waist, thumb brushing against the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. The touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you let out a quiet hum against his lips.
Armin pulled back just enough to look at you, his cheeks slightly flushed, eyes bright with affection—and something else, something warmer. "You're distracting," he murmured, his voice low.
"Me?" you teased, nipping lightly at his lower lip. "You're the one who started this."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he kissed you again, slower this time, savoring it. His fingers traced idle patterns along your side, his touch feather-light but enough to make your breath hitch.
Just as you were about to shift closer, a loud bang rattled the door, followed by an exasperated shout.
"ARMIN!" Connie's, Armin's roommate and friend you had met a few times and who was always nice if not a little wild, voice carried through the wood, sharp and impatient. "I swear to god, if you don't get your ass out here and deal with the dishes, I'm throwing them all in your bed!"
Armin groaned, dropping his forehead against yours with a defeated sigh. "I told Sasha to clean them last night."
You bit back a laugh, watching as he reluctantly pulled away, his expression torn between irritation and lingering amusement.
"I'm not kidding, man!" Connie banged on the door again. "Sasha refuses to touch them, and I'm not doing it! You live here too!"
Armin exhaled sharply through his nose, casting you an apologetic glance. "I should probably... handle this before he actually follows through."
You grinned, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "Go. Save your bed from dishware."
Armin sighed dramatically but pushed back from the desk, giving you one last lingering glance before heading toward the door. "I'll be right back," he muttered, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
You turned back to the slides, clicking through them with half-hearted focus, but without Armin beside you, the work suddenly felt dull. The silence of the room—now free of his quiet murmurs and occasional frustrated sighs—made the minutes drag.
Bored.
After a few more lackluster attempts at editing, you finally gave up, pushing the chair back and stretching before wandering out of the room. The sound of running water led you to the kitchen, where Armin stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scrubbing at a stubborn plate with a sponge. His hair was pushed messily behind his ears, slightly damp at the temples from the steam rising from the hot water.
He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy muttering under his breath about "Sasha’s stupid cereal bowl crusted like cement." The sight was unfairly endearing—his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his forearms flexed slightly as he scrubbed, the way his lips pursed when he was annoyed but trying not to complain too loudly.
Leaning against the doorframe, you crossed your arms and just watched for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.
"You know," you finally said, making him jump slightly, "I didn’t take you for the domestic type."
Armin turned, blinking at you in surprise before his expression softened into something playful. "And yet here I am, saving our apartment from a dish-based apocalypse." He flicked soapy water in your direction, grinning when you yelped and dodged.
"You’re terrible," you laughed, stepping closer.
He smirked, rinsing off the last plate before setting it in the drying rack. "But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, moving to stand beside him. Without thinking, you reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair back behind his ear, fingers lingering just a second too long.
Armin's cheeks flushed a soft pink as he dried his hands on a dish towel, hesitating for a moment before clearing his throat.
"Uh—so," he started, avoiding your eyes for a second before forcing himself to meet your gaze. "I was thinking... I have free tickets to the movies. Since I work there. And—well—I was wondering if you'd... maybe... want to go? Sometime?"
The words tumbled out in a rush, and he cringed slightly at how awkward it sounded.
"But—!" He held up a hand, suddenly looking panicked. "Not just because it's free. I mean, it is free, but that's not—that's not the point." He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before trying again.
"What I'm trying to say is... I'd like to take you. On a date. If you want."
His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the towel, his expression caught somewhere between hopeful and terrified.
You grinned, stepping closer and nudging his shoulder with yours. "Armin Arlert," you said, voice teasing but warm, "are you asking me out on a proper date?"
He swallowed hard, then nodded, a shy smile finally breaking through. "Yeah. I am."
You pretended to think about it for a dramatic second, tapping your chin—just long enough to watch his shoulders tense in anticipation—before grinning.
"Obviously, yes."
The relief that washed over his face was instant, his whole posture relaxing as he let out a breathy laugh. "Really?"
You rolled your eyes, reaching out to tug lightly at his sleeve. "Yes, really. I'd love to go on a date with you."
His smile was brighter than you'd ever seen it, boyish and genuine. "Good. Great. I—uh—I'll figure out the details. Make it... nice."
You couldn't resist. Leaning in, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling back before he could react.
"Looking forward to it."
Armin blinked, momentarily stunned, before his grin turned lopsided, a playful glint in his eye.
"Me too."
ꔛ
The theater’s neon lights flickered against the pavement as you spotted Armin waiting near the entrance, hands shoved awkwardly into his jean pockets. The second he saw you, he straightened up, eyes widening slightly before a warm, nervous smile took over.
"You—" He cleared his throat, stepping forward. "You look pretty... cute. I mean pretty and cute. Like. Both. At the same time."
You bit back a laugh, watching as his ears turned pink the second the words left his mouth. It was ridiculous—considering the things you’d done together, the way he’d whispered filthy praise against your skin just last week—yet here he was, stumbling over his words like this was his first-ever date.
God, he’s adorable.
"You clean up nice too," you teased, nodding at his slightly-too-big button-up and the way his hair was trying to be neatly styled but already falling out of place.
Armin exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath, before hesitantly reaching for your hand. His fingers laced with yours, warm and slightly shaky, and when you squeezed, he squeezed back like he was afraid you’d disappear.
"You nervous?" you asked, bumping his shoulder as you walked toward the ticket line.
"No," he lied immediately, then groaned. "Okay, yes. But only because I—I don’t know. This feels different."
You knew exactly what he meant. Hooking up was one thing, but this? The deliberate choice of each other, the quiet intimacy of a date—it was terrifyingly sweet.
Armin led you past the concessions stand, waving casually at his coworker who shot him a knowing grin and a thumbs up. He'd insisted on paying for popcorn despite the fact that most of his perks came free with his job—"It's a proper date," he'd said firmly, handing over actual money when you tried to protest.
The theater was nearly empty for the late showing, just a couple of pairs scattered throughout the front rows. Armin guided you toward the back row, his fingers still intertwined with yours.
"I hope you like horror," he said, settling into the cushy seat beside you. "Jean and Eren said this one was supposed to be good."
What Armin wasn't telling you was the entire embarrassing conversation that had led to this choice.
"Dude, horror movie. No question," Jean had said, sprawled across Armin's couch while Eren nodded enthusiastically from the floor.
"I don't know..." Armin hesitated. "What if she doesn't like being scared?"
Eren rolled his eyes. "That's the point. She gets scared, you comfort her, she feels safe with you—boom, instant connection."
"We've already connected," Armin muttered, his cheeks warming. "Multiple times."
"Yeah, but this is different," Jean insisted, sitting up to look more serious. "This is you being the strong, protective one. Plus, dark theater, back row..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Eren threw a pillow at Jean before turning to Armin. "Look, trust us. It's the perfect first date movie. You can protect her if it gets too scary."
As the lights dimmed and the previews began to play, Armin lifted the armrest between your seats, allowing you to slide closer. The warmth of your body against his side made him acutely aware of his heartbeat—too fast, too loud—as the movie title splashed across the screen in dripping red letters.
Twenty minutes in, it became abundantly clear that Jean and Eren's advice had been... flawed.
A jump-scare sent Armin practically out of his seat, his hand clutching yours so tightly it almost hurt. You bit back a laugh as he quickly tried to play it off, clearing his throat and settling back down. Another ten minutes passed before a second scare had him actually yelping—a small, startled sound that he immediately tried to cover with a cough.
"You good?" you whispered, leaning closer to his ear, amused by the way he'd tensed up.
"Totally fine," he whispered back unconvincingly, his eyes still fixed on the screen where a shadowy figure lurked behind the protagonist. When the inevitable jumpscare came, he flinched again, harder this time.
You couldn't help it—you laughed softly, squeezing his hand. "It's gonna be okay, Armin."
His face burned in the darkness, visible even in the dim light from the screen. "I don't usually watch this stuff."
"It's fine, really." You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling him gradually relax against you. "It's cute, though, how scared you're getting."
Armin turned slightly, his breath warm against your temple. "Cute wasn't exactly what I was going for, but I'll take it."
The movie continued, a predictable parade of creaky doors and bloody apparitions, but you found yourself paying less attention to the plot and more to the way Armin's thumb absently stroked the back of your hand. How his breath would catch before each scare, how he'd release it slowly afterward, trying to play it cool.
Halfway through, during a particularly tense scene, you glanced up at him—his profile illuminated by the flickering blue light, his features etched in concentration despite his obvious discomfort. Without thinking, you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, just a light brush of contact.
Armin stilled, his attention immediately diverted from the screen to you. His eyes, wide and questioning, found yours in the darkness.
You smiled innocently, but when his gaze dropped to your lips, the air between you shifted. The movie faded to background noise as he leaned closer, hesitating just a breath away. His eyes met yours in question.
In answer, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, testing kiss. He responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, holding you there as the kiss deepened. The taste of buttered popcorn lingered on his tongue as it slipped past your lips, exploring with a gentleness that made your chest ache.
A particularly loud noise from the movie made him jump again, breaking the kiss with a startled gasp before he laughed softly against your mouth.
"Sorry," he murmured, his thumb stroking your cheek.
"Don't be," you whispered back, shifting to get a better angle.
This time when you kissed him, it was less cautious. Your hand slid up his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles as he pulled you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. The armrest dug into your side but you hardly noticed, too lost in the way he kissed you—deepening from sweet to something hungrier, something that made heat pool in your stomach.
The protagonist's screams provided a bizarre soundtrack as Armin's hand moved from your cheek down to your neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive spot beneath your ear that he'd discovered weeks ago. You shivered, and he smiled against your lips, clearly pleased with himself.
"Thought you were scared," you teased quietly, nipping at his lower lip.
"Distracted now," he breathed, kissing down to the corner of your mouth, your jaw.
You glanced around quickly—the nearest couple was rows away, focused on the movie—before sliding your hand to his thigh, feeling him tense beneath your touch. His own hand moved to your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to brush warm skin.
The kiss turned deeper, messier, as his tongue slid against yours. You could feel him getting bolder, his grip on your waist tightening as you shifted closer, your hand inching higher on his thigh. He made a soft sound in the back of his throat that sent a pulse of want straight through you.
His teeth grazed your lower lip, and you gasped quietly, feeling his smile against your mouth. This was a different Armin than the one who'd stumbled through asking you out—this was the Armin who knew exactly what you liked, who'd mapped your body with his hands and mouth, who'd made you come undone with just his fingers on multiple occasions.
"We should—" he started, pulling back slightly, his breath warm against your lips. "We should probably watch the movie."
"Yeah. I don't want your coworkers making fun of you," you whispered with a smile.
A woman on screen shrieked as something lunged at her, and Armin tensed again, his grip on you tightening reflexively. You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Maybe we should have gone with a comedy," he admitted, his voice low with embarrassment. "Eren and Jean said horror would be—" He cut himself off, realizing he'd said too much.
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What exactly did they say?"
Armin's hand fell from your waist as he ran it through his hair, messing up the careful styling even further. "Something about, uh... you getting scared and me comforting you." His ears were burning again. "Which obviously backfired because I'm the one jumping at every shadow."
"I don't know," you whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. "I think I like comforting you just fine."
He shivered, his hand finding yours again in the darkness. For the remainder of the movie, you stayed close, your head on his shoulder, occasionally stealing kisses during the less intense scenes. Whenever a jumpscare hit, you'd squeeze his hand, feeling him relax against you as the moment passed.
By the time the credits rolled, Armin had practically forgotten his embarrassment, too content with your warmth against him, the smell of your shampoo as you rested against his shoulder. As the lights slowly brightened, he turned to look at you properly, taking in your slightly disheveled appearance—lips a little swollen from his kisses, hair mussed where his fingers had tangled in it.
He looked just as affected—cheeks flushed, blonde hair falling messily across his forehead, lips pink and just a touch raw. The sight made your heart flutter.
"So," he said, voice hoarse as he helped you gather your things, "on a scale of one to ten, how bad was my movie choice?"
You laughed, standing to stretch your legs. "Well, I didn't really see much of it, so I can't judge fairly."
His smile was slow, a little smug as he stood beside you. "Me neither."
You both lingered in the theater as others filed out, neither quite ready to end the night.
"We could..." Armin started, then stopped, suddenly looking shy again. "We could go back to my place? Connie and Sasha are out tonight, so..."
The implication hung between you, charged with possibility.
You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. "Let's go."
His smile was bright enough to rival the theater's exit signs as he pulled you gently toward the door, the forgotten horror movie already a distant memory.
ꔛ
The door to Armin's apartment swung open, his hand fumbling slightly with the key as he stepped aside to let you in. The familiar space greeted you—Sasha's mismatched throw pillows scattered across the couch, Connie's gaming setup in the corner, and the subtle scent of Armin's sandalwood candle that he always lit when studying late.
"They're definitely out?" you asked, slipping off your shoes by the door.
Armin nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he set his keys on the counter. "Until late. Frat party, I guess."
There was a beat of silence—a moment of shared understanding—before you both moved at once. Armin's hands found your waist as he backed you toward his bedroom, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that made it clear he'd been restraining himself at the theater. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly in the way you'd discovered made him groan.
He navigated the hallway without breaking the kiss, blindly pushing open his bedroom door. The familiar space—desk cluttered with textbooks and astronomy notes, walls adorned with star charts and anime posters he'd shyly explained on your first visit—welcomed you like an old friend.
Armin walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of his bed, his hands steady at your waist. He broke the kiss, looking down at you with eyes darkened by desire, a question in them that you answered by sitting down at the edge of the mattress.
Before he could make another move, you reached for the button of his jeans, watching his breath hitch as your fingers worked the metal through the hole. His hands moved to your shoulders, gentle but trembling slightly.
"You don't have to—" he started, his voice cracking embarrassingly in the middle.
You glanced up, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "I already told you, I want to."
The flush on his cheeks deepened, but he nodded, swallowing hard as you slowly lowered his zipper. His fingers twitched against your shoulders, anticipation building in the way he shifted his weight.
The contrast between drunk Armin and sober Armin had fascinated you from the start.
Drunk Armin was all impulse and confidence—hands everywhere, whispered confessions against your skin, boldly telling you exactly what he wanted with none of his usual hesitation. The first night at the party, he'd been liquid courage and hungry eyes, pulling you into Jean's room without a second thought.
Sober Armin was a slow burn—starting tentative and sweet, checking in with gentle touches and questioning looks, always making sure you were comfortable. But what made him so intoxicating was the transformation that happened when pleasure built—how his careful control would gradually unravel, revealing the intensity he usually kept hidden beneath his quiet exterior.
As you tugged his jeans down his thighs, you could see that transformation beginning. His fingers flexed against your shoulders, his breathing already uneven despite how little you'd done.
"Is this okay?" you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, your hands resting on his hips.
He nodded rapidly, then cleared his throat. "Yeah—yes, it's... it's more than okay."
You smiled, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, enjoying the way his abdominal muscles tensed in anticipation. Slowly, you pulled the fabric down, revealing him inch by inch until he sprang free, already hard and straining.
Armin's breath caught audibly, his hands moving from your shoulders to card gently through your hair. The touch was reverent, careful—so typically Armin at the start.
You wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse against your palm as you stroked slowly from base to tip. His eyes fell shut momentarily, lips parting on a shaky exhale.
"You're already so hard," you murmured, thumb circling the sensitive head.
"Been thinking about this all night," he admitted, voice strained but still controlled. "Since the theater."
You leaned forward, maintaining eye contact as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip, watching his pupils dilate at the contact. His fingers tightened slightly in your hair, not pushing, just holding on like he needed an anchor.
When you finally took him into your mouth, Armin's quiet gasp filled the room. You started slow, taking just the head between your lips, tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge before dipping into the slit. His thighs trembled beneath your hands, restraint evident in every tense muscle.
"That feels—" he broke off as you took him deeper, his voice cracking again. "So good, God."
You hollowed your cheeks, establishing a rhythm as you worked him with your mouth and hand together. Sweet, shy Armin was still present in the gentle way his fingers stroked your hair, in the soft, appreciative sounds he made with each movement of your tongue.
But as the minutes passed, you felt the shift.
His breathing grew heavier, his normally precise vocabulary reduced to fragments and your name. When you took him particularly deep, letting him hit the back of your throat, his hips jerked forward involuntarily causing you to gag slightly.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped immediately, trying to pull back.
You responded by gripping his hips, encouraging him to stay where he was, looking up to meet his gaze. The message was clear: It's okay. I can take it.
The careful restraint in his expression began to crack. His hand tightened in your hair, not painful but definitely more commanding than before, guiding your movements as you continued.
"You look so—" he swallowed hard, jaw clenching as you swirled your tongue around him. "So perfect like this."
This was where drunk and sober Armin began to converge—where pleasure stripped away his inhibitions, leaving raw need in their place. His hips started to move in shallow, careful thrusts that grew more confident when you moaned encouragingly around him.
"Is this okay?" he asked, voice rough with desire, his hand now firmly guiding your head. When you nodded, he exhaled sharply. "Good, because I—fuck—I need to—"
The proper, articulate Armin was gone now, replaced by a version of him that chased his pleasure with focused intensity. His fingers tangled more firmly in your hair, his thrusts growing more deliberate as he watched himself disappear between your lips.
"You're so good at this," he praised, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths. "So perfect with your mouth, taking me so well."
You hummed around him, sending vibrations through his length that made him curse—something rare from his usual vocabulary. His self-consciousness had evaporated, replaced by a man who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn't afraid to ask.
"Deeper," he urged, voice strained but commanding. "Please, just like—yes—just like that."
When you felt him start to throb against your tongue, his thighs tensing beneath your hands, you knew he was close. His careful rhythm faltered, growing erratic as his control slipped further.
"I'm going to—" he warned, trying to pull back slightly. "If you don't stop, I'll—"
You dug your fingers into his hips, taking him deeper instead, and the last thread of his restraint snapped. His head fell back, throat working around a groan that seemed torn from somewhere deep inside him as he pulsed against your tongue.
"Fuck," he gasped, the words falling from his lips as he came, his fingers clenching in your hair, his body shuddering with release.
You worked him through it, swallowing around him until he became too sensitive, his hands gently urging you back as he caught his breath. When you finally pulled away, looking up at him with a satisfied smile, his expression was dazed, cheeks flushed dark red.
Armin was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly, when his gaze dropped to you—eyes dark with hunger, lips kiss-swollen, fingers twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to pull you closer or give you a second to recover.
Then, with a suddenness that made your pulse jump, he pushed you back onto the bed.
You let out a surprised laugh as you landed against his pillows, but the sound choked off when he climbed over you, his hands sliding possessively up your thighs. His glasses—already fogged from his heavy breathing—slipped slightly down his nose, and with an impatient noise, he yanked them off and tossed them onto the nightstand.
"Fuck these things," he muttered, before his attention snapped back to you, making you laugh momentarily before your breath hitched.
His fingers hooked into the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your hips in one smooth motion, exposing the damp fabric of your panties. He exhaled sharply at the sight, his thumbs immediately pressing against the soaked material, dragging slowly along the seam.
"Armin," you gasped, arching into the touch.
He smirked—actually smirked—before dipping his head to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh. His lips were warm, teasing, moving higher with agonizing slowness.
"You’re so wet," he murmured, fingertips ghosting over the damp fabric of your panties. "Just from sucking me off?"
You bit your lip, nodding, and his expression darkened with satisfaction.
"Then let me return the favor."
Armin’s fingers curled into the sides of your panties, dragging them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his knuckles brushing against your thighs in a way that made you shiver. The moment they were off, tossed carelessly onto the floor, his hands returned—spreading your thighs wider, thumbs pressing into the soft skin just beneath your hips, like he was memorizing the way you opened for him.
His breath was warm against your bare skin as he leaned in, pressing a kiss just above the apex of your thighs, teasing.
"You're so cute," he murmured, voice rough with want, lips brushing against your slick folds without giving you what you wanted. "The way you react every time."
You whined, hips lifting desperately toward his mouth, but he chuckled—chuckled, the bastard—and held you down with one firm hand on your stomach.
"I—fuck, Armin—" you gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets.
"Hm?" he hummed breath fanning over your overheated skin. Then, finally, his tongue dragged through your wetness in one slow, torturous stroke, and you nearly arched clean off the bed.
His grip on your hip tightened, pinning you in place as he repeated the motion, lapping at you like he was savoring the taste. The contrast was maddening—his usual careful precision in everything he did, now applied to unraveling you completely.
Armin's mouth was relentless—hot, wet, and hungry as he devoured you with the same focus he usually reserved for his astronomy charts. His tongue laved broad, slow strokes through your folds before zeroing in on your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to make your thighs tremble.
"Fuck—yes, like that—" you gasped, fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly as he worked you over with his lips and tongue.
He hummed against you in response, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Then, without warning, his fingers joined—two of them pressing against your entrance before sliding inside in one smooth thrust.
"You like that?" he asked, pulling back just enough to watch your face as he curled his fingers just right, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.
All you could manage was a desperate nod, your voice failing you as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.
Armin’s lips curved into a smirk—smug bastard—before his mouth descended again, tongue flicking over your clit in quick, relentless circles as his fingers fucked into you with growing insistence.
"You sound so pretty," he muttered against you, the vibrations making you writhe. "Always." His movements were precise, almost scientific, as if he’d studied exactly how to make you fall apart.
"Armin—" you panted, your grip tightening in his hair as his fingers pumped in and out, his thumb brushing your clit in tandem. "Don’t stop—please—"
He didn’t. If anything, he doubled down—sucking your clit between his lips, fucking you with his fingers at a steady, maddening pace. His free hand gripped your thigh, holding you open for him as he worked you toward the edge with terrifying efficiency.
You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach, your breathing coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer and closer.
"Come for me," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with arousal. "Let me feel it."
And just like that, you shattered—your orgasm crashing over you in waves, your body clenching around his fingers as he coaxed every last pulse of pleasure from you.
When you finally slumped back against the bed, boneless and breathless, Armin pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, eyes dark with satisfaction.
"Fuck," was all you could manage.
"Good?" he asked, like he didn’t already know.
You simply whined, lips curling into a grin at his pleased expression. Armin crawled up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss that let you taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, hands sliding up his back, feeling the muscles shift beneath your palms as he settled between your thighs.
His fingers tangled in your hair, cradling your head as he kissed you thoroughly, unhurried now despite the way his arousal pressed insistently against your stomach. Each sweep of his tongue was deliberate, each gentle bite to your lower lip calculated to make you gasp.
He sat back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, revealing the lean, subtle muscle of his chest and stomach. Not bulky like some of his friends, but defined in a way that made your mouth water. You reached up, tracing a finger down the center of his chest, feeling him shiver under your touch.
"Let me grab something," he murmured, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips before leaning over to his nightstand.
He pulled open the drawer, retrieving a small box of condoms that still had the plastic wrap on it. You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips.
"Recent purchase?" you teased.
Armin's cheeks flushed, but he nodded, tearing open the box with slightly fumbling fingers. "Got them last week. After, uh—" he met your eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. "After I decided I never wanted to use Jean's condoms again. Completely ruined the mood knowing they were his."
You laughed, the sound turning into a soft gasp as he tore open a packet and rolled the condom onto his length with careful precision.
"Plus," he added, his voice dropping lower as he settled back between your legs, "I wanted to be prepared. For you."
His hands slid beneath your knees, gently pushing them back and open, exposing you completely to his gaze. The position left you feeling vulnerable, but the reverent way he looked at you—like you were a particularly fascinating celestial phenomenon he'd just discovered—made heat pool in your stomach.
Armin positioned himself at your entrance, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your slick folds without pushing in. He guidded his cock with his hand, coating himself in your wetness, watching your face as he teased you.
You whimpered, trying to shift your hips to take him in.
His hands tightened on your thighs, holding you in place as he continued the maddening tease. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice soft but steady.
You didn't answer immediately, distracted by the pleasure building again as he rubbed his dick against your sensitive clit.
"Tell me," he prompted, leaning down to kiss your neck. "I want to hear you say it."
You threw your arm over your face, suddenly embarrassed despite everything you'd already done together. "You know what I want."
"I do," he agreed, nipping lightly at your collarbone. "But I want to hear you ask for it."
Something about his tone—not demanding or smug, but genuinely wanting to hear your desire—made heat pool in your stomach. You peeked at him from beneath your arm, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his lower lip was caught between his teeth, the eager anticipation in his eyes.
"Please," you whispered, the word barely audible.
His smile was gentle, encouraging. "Please what?" he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw.
You swallowed, gathering your courage. "Please fuck me, Armin. I want you inside me."
The words sent a visible shudder through him, his breath catching as he lined himself up properly. "Like this?" he asked, pushing just the tip inside, watching your face carefully.
"Yes," you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as he sank deeper, stretching you deliciously. "Just like that—god."
Armin's breath hitched as he pushed in deeper, his hands gripping your thighs with increasing pressure. You watched his face transform—the careful control giving way to raw sensation as he buried himself inside you completely, his hips finally flush against yours.
"Fuck," he breathed, eyes falling closed for a moment as he adjusted to the feeling. "You feel—you feel incredible."
He stayed like that for a heartbeat, fully seated inside you, his thumbs drawing small, soothing circles against your skin. Then he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter.
"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, pulling back slowly before pushing in again with careful precision.
You shook your head, digging your fingers into his shoulders. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
The praise sent a visible shiver through him, his rhythm faltering briefly before he found it again, setting a deliberate pace that had you arching beneath him. Each thrust was measured and deep, hitting exactly where you needed it.
Armin bent down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as he continued to move within you. His hand slid from your thigh to your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your top.
"Take this off," he murmured against your mouth. "Want to see all of you."
You nodded, and he helped you pull the shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. The moment you were bare beneath him, his eyes darkened with appreciation, his hands immediately moving to cup your breasts.
"Beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself, as he rolled a nipple between his fingers, watching your reaction with fascination.
The dual sensation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your sensitive nipples had you moaning, head thrown back against the pillows. Armin took advantage, his lips finding your exposed throat, sucking and nipping at the tender skin there.
His thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, each one drawing a soft gasp from your lips. You'd almost forgotten how perfectly he filled you—the past few weeks had been rushed encounters between classes, hurried orgasms from his fingers and tongue, but not this. Not since that first drunken night in Jean's room had you felt the delicious stretch of him inside you, and your body was reacquainting itself with the sensation.
"You feel so good," Armin breathed, his voice strained as his hips snapped forward with increasing force. "So fucking tight—god—"
His cursing sent a thrill through you—the contrast between the polite, studious Armin who explained Europa's atmospheric composition with such precision and the Armin currently fucking you into his mattress, hair falling messily across his forehead as sweat beaded on his brow.
"Harder," you urged, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
Something flashed in his eyes—a momentary hesitation, then resolve. "You sure?"
"Yes—please—"
He didn't need to be told twice. His next thrust came with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. His hands found yours, fingers interlacing as he pinned them beside your head, using the leverage to drive into you with newfound intensity.
"Like this?" he asked, voice rough, eyes dark with concentration as he watched your face for every reaction. "This what you need?"
"Yes—fuck—just like that," you gasped, arching beneath him.
A particularly deep thrust had you crying out, and Armin groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his hips worked against yours.
"Missed this," he confessed against your skin, the words tumbling out between thrusts. "Thinking about fucking you again—couldn't focus on the project—kept remembering how you felt—"
You whimpered, the admission sending heat spiraling through your core. The idea of him daydreaming about this while working on those meticulous slides, wanting you while discussing celestial phenomena—it was both ridiculously endearing and intoxicating.
"Me too," you admitted, "got wet thinking about you in class, when you were sitting right next to me—"
Armin groaned, his hips stuttering before finding their rhythm again. "Yeah? While I was discussing Titan's atmosphere?" His voice was playful despite the strain, his lips curving against your neck.
"Especially then," you teased back, gasping as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Something about the way you talk about space—ah!—really does it for me."
He laughed, breathless and surprised, before pulling back enough to look at you. His expression shifted to something more serious, more vulnerable, as his pace slowed momentarily.
"I'm falling for you," he admitted quietly, the words hanging between you as his hips rolled in a slow, deliberate grind. "Not just this—though fuck, this is amazing—but all of it. You."
Your heart stuttered, warmth blooming in your chest that had nothing to do with the physical pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your heart swelled at his confession, but before you could respond, Armin's hips snapped forward with renewed vigor, stealing the words from your throat.
"But right now," he continued, voice dropping to a husky whisper as he picked up the pace, "right now I just want to make you come around my cock."
The filthy words from his usually proper mouth sent a shock of heat straight to your core. You watched, transfixed, as his lean muscles tensed with each thrust—the subtle definition of his abs contracting, the way his biceps flexed as he held himself above you. His golden hair, usually so neatly combed, now hung in sweaty strands around his flushed face, his blue eyes dark and unfocused with pleasure.
"Fuck," you moaned as he shifted, the angle changing just enough that the head of his cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every thrust.
"There it is," he murmured, a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice as he noted your reaction. "Found it."
He slammed into you harder, making the bed frame creak beneath you, each thrust precise despite the increasing desperation of his movements. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled the room, obscene and arousing.
"You're so fucking wet," Armin groaned, watching where your bodies connected. "Taking my dick so perfectly—shit—"
You whimpered at his words, clenching around him involuntarily, which made his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment.
Just as the tension was building, coiling tight in your lower belly, a sound from the apartment's entrance made you both freeze.
"Armin? You home?" Connie's voice carried down the hallway, followed by the distinct jingle of keys.
"Shit," Armin whispered, his eyes widening in panic. He glanced at the door—which, you realized with a jolt of adrenaline, neither of you had thought to lock.
Before you could process what was happening, Armin's hand clamped over your mouth, his body still buried deep inside yours.
"Yeah, I'm here!" he called back, voice remarkably steady despite the situation. "Just working on some stuff in my room. Don't—don't come in, I'm changing!"
His eyes met yours, a silent question in them—okay?—as he remained perfectly still, his cock pulsing inside you.
You nodded against his palm, heart racing with the thrill of nearly being caught. To your shock, instead of pulling out, Armin began to move again—slower now, more deliberate, his hips rolling in shallow thrusts that maintained the pressure against your sweet spot without making the bed creak.
"We brought pizza!" Sasha's voice called. "Extra pepperoni! You want some?"
Armin bit his lip, stifling a groan as you clenched around him again, the danger of the situation somehow heightening every sensation.
"Maybe—ah—maybe later!" he called back, his voice hitching slightly as you deliberately tightened around him. He shot you a warning look that only made heat pool lower in your belly.
"Suit yourself," Connie replied, his voice thankfully moving toward the living room. "We're gonna watch that new anime you were talking about. The one with the monsters."
Armin's hips stuttered at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile against his palm, imagining him trying to focus on serious conversation while balls-deep inside you.
"Go ahead!" Armin called, then lowered his voice to a whisper meant only for you. "If you make a sound, I'll stop."
The threat—not truly a threat given how desperately you both wanted this—made you shiver.
The moment he was satisfied his roommates were settled in the living room, Armin's hips snapped forward with renewed force, his hand pressing harder against your mouth. His eyes were wild, a mixture of arousal and danger as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Gotta be quiet now," he breathed, his voice trembling slightly as he picked up the pace. "Can't let them hear how fucking wet your pussy is for me."
You whimpered against his hand, feeling yourself clench around him at the unexpected dirty talk. This was a side of Armin you'd glimpsed before—the way he'd whisper filthy praise against your ear when you sucked him off, how he'd gotten bolder with his words each time you hooked up—but never quite this raw, this uninhibited. His thrusts grew deeper, harder, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room.
"Look at you," he continued, watching your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust. "Fuck, you're so perfect."
His free hand moved to cup one breast, thumb circling the hardened nipple before pinching it lightly, causing you to arch beneath him. Your muffled moan was captured by his hand, which pressed more firmly against your lips.
"Shh," he warned, but his eyes were dark with satisfaction at your reaction. "They'll hear you."
The position shifted slightly as he leaned more weight on the hand covering your mouth, his cock driving impossibly deeper. You could feel his heavy balls slap against your ass with each thrust, adding to the obscene symphony of skin against skin.
"You're dripping," he groaned quietly, glancing down at where your bodies joined. "Soaking the sheets, fuck—"
Despite his assertive words, Armin was falling apart above you—his composure cracking with each thrust. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tried to stifle his own sounds. A whimper escaped him when you deliberately clenched around his length, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment.
"Do that—do that again," he pleaded, voice breaking slightly as you obliged, squeezing your inner muscles around him. "God—feels so good—"
His rhythm faltered briefly before he found it again, driving into you with precision that belied his trembling thighs and stuttered breathing. The head of his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you with each thrust, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.
You tried to say his name, the sound muffled against his palm as your hands clutched at his back, nails digging into the smooth skin. Armin hissed at the sting but didn't slow down—if anything, the pain seemed to spur him on, his hips snapping forward with increased fervor.
"You like this?" he whispered, sweat-dampened hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you. "Like me keeping you quiet while I fuck you? While my roommates are right outside?"
You nodded frantically, eyes wide as pressure built inside you, coiling tighter with each precise thrust.
"Such a—fuck—such a dirty girl," he continued, voice breaking on a particularly deep thrust. "Getting off on this—on me—ahh—holding you down and—and fucking you while—"
He couldn't even finish the sentence, too caught up in the sensation. His expression was a beautiful mess—flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes glazed with pleasure. When you clenched around him again, he let out a whine that he immediately tried to muffle by burying his face in your neck.
"Close," he gasped against your skin, his rhythm growing erratic. "So close—need you to—need you to come with me—"
His hand slipped from your mouth just long enough to slide between your bodies, finding your clit with practiced ease. The sudden stimulation made you gasp, and his palm clamped back over your lips instantly.
"Quiet," he reminded you, but the command lacked authority as his own breath hitched. His fingers worked your clit in tight, fast circles as his cock continued to pound into you, the dual sensation rapidly pushing you toward the edge.
"Come on my cock," he urged, words turning desperate as his control slipped further. "Want to feel you—feel you squeeze me—God—squeeze me when you come—"
Your orgasm hit without warning, crashing over you in intense waves as your body clenched rhythmically around his length. Armin's hand barely muffled your cry as pleasure flooded every nerve, your back arching off the bed.
The feeling of your walls pulsing around him was too much. Armin's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering completely as he buried himself deep inside you with one final thrust. His whole body tensed, a choked whimper escaping his lips as he came, his cock throbbing within you as he spilled into the condom.
For a long moment, he remained frozen above you, trembling with the force of his release. Then, slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth, replacing it with his lips in a gentle, almost apologetic kiss.
"Sorry," he whispered against your lips, still catching his breath. "Got a bit... carried away."
You smiled, reaching up to brush sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. "Don't apologize. That was... wow."
A flush that had nothing to do with exertion spread across his cheeks, the shy, sweet Armin returning now that the heat of the moment had passed. The transformation was as endearing as it was fascinating—how quickly he could shift from filthy-mouthed confidence back to soft-spoken tenderness.
"Yeah?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice despite what you'd just shared.
"Yeah," you confirmed, pulling him down for another kiss. "Definitely wow."
Armin carefully pulled out, both of you wincing slightly at the sensitivity. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before climbing off the bed and padding to the bathroom. You heard water running briefly before he returned, condom disposed of and a warm washcloth in hand.
"Here," he offered softly, gently cleaning between your thighs with a tenderness that made your chest ache. When he was done, he tossed the cloth into his hamper and climbed back onto the bed, immediately pulling you against his chest.
His fingers combed through your tangled hair, pushing sweaty strands away from your face. "You okay?"
You nodded, nestling into his warmth. "Perfect."
Armin reached toward the nightstand, grabbing a half-empty water bottle and offering it to you. "Drink something."
You took a few grateful sips before passing it back, watching as he drank deeply, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow. The care in these small gestures was somehow more intimate than what you'd just shared.
After a comfortable silence, you traced a finger along his collarbone. "So..."
His eyes met yours, a hint of vulnerability in them. "So?"
"You said something. During." You bit your lip, suddenly shy despite everything. "About falling for me."
A blush immediately spread across his cheeks, but to his credit, he didn't look away. "I did."
"Did you mean it?"
Armin exhaled, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining. "Yeah. I did. I am." His thumb stroked the back of your hand nervously. "Falling for you, that is."
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you smiled up at him. "Good. Because I'm falling for you too."
The relief that washed over his face was almost comical—like he'd been genuinely worried after everything you'd shared. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
"Does that mean... I mean, would you want to..." he trailed off, then took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet your eyes. "Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?"
You couldn't help but laugh—not at him, but at the endearing formality of it all, asking you to be his girlfriend while you were both naked and sweaty in his bed.
"Yes, Armin," you said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll be your girlfriend. Officially."
His answering smile was brilliant, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made your stomach flutter.
"Great," he said, voice soft but steady. "That's... really great."
A loud burst of laughter from the living room reminded you both that you weren't alone in the apartment. Armin glanced toward the door, then back at you.
"We should probably..."
"Join civilization?" you suggested, already reaching for your scattered clothes.
"Yeah," he chuckled, climbing off the bed and searching for his boxers. "Plus, there's pizza."
You both dressed quickly, stealing glances and sharing small smiles as you put yourselves back together. Armin ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it back into something presentable while you straightened your clothes and checked for any visible marks he might have left.
When you finally emerged from his bedroom, Connie and Sasha were sprawled across the couch, an open pizza box on the coffee table between them and some colorful anime playing on the TV.
"Well, well, look who finally emerged," Connie said, giving you a knowing grin as he paused the show. "Thought you said you were changing, Armin."
Armin froze for a half-second, his ears turning bright red as he fumbled for words. "I was—I mean, we were just—"
"Uh-huh," Sasha smirked, grabbing another slice of pizza. "Changing."
Armin's shoulders straightened suddenly, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together. "Well, I have a girlfriend now, so..." he trailed off defensively, the statement hanging in the air like he wasn't quite sure where he was going with it.
Connie and Sasha were silent, amusement on their expressions at Armin's words.
"Yeah, I have a girlfriend now, so what does it matter if I change in front of her?" Armin challenged more confidently, chin lifting slightly despite the blush still coloring his cheeks.
Connie rolled his eyes dramatically, throwing a wadded-up napkin in Armin's direction. "Yeah, yeah, just rub it in our faces, why don't you? Some of us are still single and suffering."
But there was no real bite to his words, just good-natured teasing as he scooted over to make room on the couch.
Sasha couldn't seem to stop smiling, her eyes darting between you and Armin with barely contained delight. "About time," she said, pushing the pizza box toward you both.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Armin asked, guiding you to the spot Connie had cleared.
"Dude, you've been talking about her non-stop for weeks," Connie snorted. "Pretty sure Sasha and I could recite your astronomy project by heart at this point."
"That's not true," Armin protested weakly, but the way he avoided eye contact made it clear Connie wasn't exaggerating.
Sasha leaned forward, stage-whispering to you. "He's had a crush on you since like, the second week of class. It was painful to watch."
"Okay," Armin interrupted loudly, reaching for a slice of pizza. "Can we please just watch the show now?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his embarrassment, settling comfortably against his side as Connie hit play on the remote. The anime resumed—something about giant humanoid creatures that seemed equal parts fascinating and terrifying—but you found yourself more interested in watching the easy camaraderie between the three roommates.
Despite their teasing, it was obvious how much Connie and Sasha cared about Armin. The way Sasha would occasionally glance over with a soft, approving smile, or how Connie had immediately made space for both of you, accepting you into their little circle without question.
As the show continued, Armin's arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer. You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body and the comforting weight of his arm. His fingers traced absent patterns on your shoulder as he focused on the screen, occasionally leaning down to whisper explanations of characters or plot points you might have missed.
It felt natural. Easy. Like you'd always belonged here, nestled against Armin's side while his friends bickered good-naturedly over the last slice of pizza.
When Armin's phone buzzed with a text from Eren asking how the date went, he simply smiled, typing back a quick response before tucking his phone away and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
"Good?" he asked quietly, and you knew he wasn't just asking about the anime or the pizza.
"Perfect," you confirmed, settling more comfortably against him as the next episode began to play.
#armin smut#nerdmin#nerd armin#smut#aot x reader#aot x reader smut#aot#aot smut#armin arlert#armin arlert x reader#armin x reader smut#attack on titan
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K-Pop Demon Hunters X Reader
Characters: Mira, Zoey, Rumi and Jinu
Warning: Some curse words, kind of hints to spoilers if you squint hard enough but outside of that, none. SFW.
A/N: Guys, I'm scared that I might be becoming CoryXKenshin. You know what else I'm scared of?... How much I love Mira, help me-
Mira
“That was a pretty cool show, right?… You were checking me out, weren’t you? You were totally checking me out.” Dating Mira is the literal definition of chaos. One minute she’ll have the two of you relaxing in her bedroom watching corny tv shows or criticizing a bad rom-com if not a horror movie. The next she has you two rolling heads at a press meeting, loving how people swoon over your relationship and quick to bite off the heads of those who criticize. Mira’s not exactly super romantic, more playful than anything. She shows her love in initiating pillow fights or tickling you suddenly, but that doesn’t mean she’s above a makeout session or cuddling before a show.
If you need to be affirmed of your love, she will cup your cheeks and tell you how much she loves you. She never really had affection from her family, so she knows how it feels to not be cared for and reminded of how precious you are. But she’ll remind you every damn day if she needs to. You’re her partner in crime and, as cringy as it may sound to her saying it aloud, you’re her one and only. A real ride or die.
Zoey
“Soooo what did you think of that one? Did you love it?! Because guess what? I wrote that one for you~!” Out of all the girls in Huntrix, Zoey is arguably the one to not hesitate showing her heart on her sleeves. It’s one of the reasons why you two are together. When she first saw you, she just knew you were the one. Were you her type? Yeah, that was a plus- But just your personality was enough to make her feel as if she was standing in the presence of pure light. To her, you are so cute that sometimes she’ll just. Freeze and get lost in your eyes or cup your cheeks and admit how breathtaking you are, even at the most weird of times. Same goes for kisses too! She will not hesitate to jump off the stage and pull you into an electrifying kiss!
Whenever she has free time, she’s running straight to you, talking your ear off about the many ideas she has for songs mainly about you or telling you stories. Even when she is on tour, she makes sure you’re there every step of the way. She hopes one day she can take you to visit her old home, but for now, she’s content just with being your sweet, loving, sometimes clingy girlfriend that totally doesn’t always daydream about you two getting married.
Rumi
“Okay. The show’s over, Mira and Zoey are stocked on snacks and the fans all got their autographs! Which means I am all yours for the evening~.” It’s honestly a miracle that you were able to date Rumi and even the rest of Huntrix along with Bobby believes that. That passionate workaholic found herself intrigued by you, mainly in how you looked at her and spoke to her as if she wasn’t some idol but just. Well. A person. It took some easing up before she actually tried to give things a shot between you two, but when she finally did, she had to admit she’s never felt as happy as she did with you. She loves how you help her get out of her shell sometimes and remind her to relax when necessary. In return for such sweet gestures, she showers you with sweet touches, beautiful whispers and affirmations as well as a nice meal when possible.
When she told you about her past, she was sure you would leave her. But when you stayed by her side, helped her become comfortable in her skin and even let your love grow stronger? Well, it made her just realize one thing; You were everything she could ever want and more.
Jinu
“Sorry for the wait, sweetheart, for a second I thought the fans were gonna snatch me up. A shame they can’t see I’ve already been swept off my feet by you.” For Jinu, love was never on his radar. He never dismissed the idea of being in a relationship, but he never thought it would be possible either. Until he met you. Honestly, when you two first met, he thought you could be useful, a tool even and that was all. But the more you two hung out, the more he realized how much his heart beat for you. He began to crave you by his side, enjoyed your company and how you treated his pets. He especially loved how you saw him as a person and not just some demon. Eventually, he asked for you to be in a relationship and when you accepted, he was more than elated.
Of course he tries to keep you away from Gwi-Ma with a ten foot pole when he’s working and makes sure you’re never in harm’s way. When he’s free to relax, he’s quick to slip into your arms and just enjoy being near you. He’s lost so much, due to mistakes or not. But he’ll be damned if he loses you too. You’re too precious to him. As far as it’s concerned, to him, you are his soul.
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
#kpop demon hunters#jinu#rumi#zoey#mira#bobby#gwi ma#netflix#sony#x reader#x you#x female reader#x male reader#fluff headcanons#headcanons#trash#lgbtq#happy pride 🌈#i need some milk
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before we shatter — jjk [one]
genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook
word count : 6k
summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.
chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.
read part two here
a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.
When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.
An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.
After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside.
Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still.
You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said.
Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles.
Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms.
It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across.
He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist.
He heals you.
Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily.
This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.
“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.
You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.
Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.
Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.
You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.”
Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?”
“Anything”
“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.”
Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.”
“Thanks a lot.”
With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you.
“Hey”
“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you?
“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”
You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together.
He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down”
Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him.
“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?”
“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.
“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible”
You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”
Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.”
It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath.
Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated”
“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?”
This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise”
“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.”
“I love you.”
There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.
The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go.
Let go of your happiness.
Let go of your salvation.
Let go of your comfort.
Let go of Jungkook.
˚୨୧⋆。˚
You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest.
“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.
You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me”
He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.
“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that.
You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.”
He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.”
You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.”
Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?”
Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.
It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread.
You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies.
“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?”
“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?”
You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave”
His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning”
Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more.
You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible”
He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands.
You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you.
“How long has it been since you began making this?”
“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”
You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.
He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?”
A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there.
“You smell so good”
“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him, “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.”
“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.
“You’re gonna spoil her”
“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.”
There it is.
If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.
You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.
This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose.
“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry.
You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?”
Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.
He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,
“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back”
“Where are you goi-”
“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support.
“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog.
He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.
He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?”
Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles.
His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”
He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft.
“Mom sent this for you.”
You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item.
“It’s beautiful”
He gently wipes the tears away,
“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.”
You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming”
“What is?” he asks,
“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough”
Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms.
Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,
His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,
“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,
Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,
Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this.
You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?
To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.
“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.”
His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.”
Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.
Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him.
“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.
“Wait, I-I want to talk about something”
His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips.
Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips.
He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.
Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off.
His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.
“Jungkook, please”
He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?”
“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.”
“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?”
At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate.
He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?”
Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts.
“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss.
He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it”
You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”
Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath.
He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs.
When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already.
Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you.
Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine”
You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.”
His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back.
“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it.
“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes.
Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.”
He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop.
“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth.
You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.
Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.
Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?”
“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands.
He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.
It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does.
Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory.
“Lose the pants” he commands.
You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him.
You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities.
“God you’re dripping, honey”
“For you” you admit.
Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly.
His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don��t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?”
A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.
He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt”
You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm.
“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.
Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss.
He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen”
Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy.
You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.
A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him.
He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less.
“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.”
Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears.
“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out.
Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.
Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you.
“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?”
You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens.
His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it.
He smirks, “Like what you see, honey”
“You’re beautiful”
His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.
You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.”
“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again.
His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.
You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers.
You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come.
Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.
You murmur. “I love you”
His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle”
He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.”
Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something.
But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.
An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away.
You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right.
He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”
The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time?
You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?”
When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere”
Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet.
You grin, “I wouldn’t let you”
He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them.
“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises.
Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight.
Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.
Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?”
For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.
Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you?
The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"
@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3
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