#|| It's you it's you it's all for you - everything I do; I tell you all the time

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[yuujispinkhair]

CollegeBoy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up – Part 2 A

-> Option A: "I'm not ready to be a mom"

You can read Part 1 here

I decided to write two different versions of Part 2 (both are comforting). Option A: Reader has an abortion Option B: Reader decides to have the baby(s). (coming soon)

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Light angst with a happy end. 2K words. Unplanned pregnancy, Reader has a surgical abortion. Everything goes well. Sukuna takes good care of Reader. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples + benkeibear

Finding out that you accidentally got knocked up by your college sweetheart was definitely a shock. And it didn't end there because now you are faced with having to make a decision that has the potential to change your life forever.

You sleep a night over it and spend the next day going on a long walk with Sukuna, hoping the fresh air will help you clear your mind. It's when you sit down on a park bench and lean against Sukuna's biceps when you ask softly,

"So what are we going to do, Kuna?"

And Sukuna wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side,

"It's your choice, princess. I will be there for you no matter what. I'm man enough to handle both. And ultimately, it's your body, so you should be the one who makes the decision."

It makes you love him even more.

Sukuna is usually a very dominant person, someone who likes to be in control. Seeing him hold back and give you the reins fills you with deep affection.

You have contemplated both options, glad that Sukuna made it clear that he won't run even if you want to have the baby. But in the end, there is one option that feels more right for you at this point in your life.

When you tell Sukuna that you want to terminate the pregnancy, he doesn't comment on whether this is what he would have decided or not but just pulls you into his strong arms and hugs you, tells you again that he will drive you to the hospital and be there for you all the way.

You practically melt into the comfort of his strong arms as you add softly,

"It's not that I don't want a baby with you, Kuna. You know that, right? It has nothing to do with you. I just think we are too young. I am too young. I don't want the stress of having to be a mom while I still go to college and have to study for exams and try to find a good job, etc. It already seems so much, and when I imagine also having to take care of a little baby, I don't think I can manage all of it, even with you by my side."

Sukuna smiles at you, not one of his smug smirks or flirty boyish grins, but a genuine smile, soft and tender, a smile that is only reserved for you.

"I know, princess. Don't worry your pretty head about this."

Sukuna is with you throughout the whole journey. He drives you to your doctor and insists on going up to the waiting room with you because he knows how nervous you are. He sits next to you, holds your hand, caresses your fingers soothingly, and grins reassuringly at you. He makes a flirty comment and winks at you when your name gets called, trying his best to make you laugh and feel less nervous.

But you know that he is nervous too. When you get back twenty minutes later, you can see that Sukuna is still on the same page of the book he started to read when you left. His mind obviously occupied with other things, just as affected by the situation as you are.

It makes you reach out and hug him tightly, comforting him just like he comforts you, even though he would never admit openly that this makes him anxious just as much as you.

"My doctor already made an appointment at the clinic for me to have another examination and to sign all the documents and stuff. But it's when you have training, so you really don't have to come with me."

But Sukuna rolls his eyes and shakes his head,

"What are you saying? Stop it, baby. Of course, I am coming with you. If I can put my dick in you, I can also accompany you to your appointment. After all, it's my apparently super-fertile sperm that got you into that situation in the first place! I'll skip training. It's not important. Nothing is as important as you are to me."

The next four days feel weird. You go to the examination at the clinic. You listen to the doctor explaining the procedure to you. You nod, you smile politely, and you sign several documents before you get sent halfway through the hospital to meet an anesthetic and sign more papers. They send you home with a sheet full of instructions on what to do before and after the surgery.

You spend the days until the surgery in a daze. Everything feels unreal.

But you aren't alone. Sukuna doesn't leave your side. It's almost funny how he follows you around like a puppy. The big bad boy, all sweet and doting.

On the day of the abortion Sukuna drives you to the hospital. He walks with you to the unit where the surgery will take place, and his large hand squeezes your smaller one so tightly it almost hurts.

You can see and feel how reluctant he is to let go of you and how worried he is about you, even though he tries to hide it and play it cool so as not to make you more anxious than you already are. But his hug is even tighter than usual, almost bone-crushing the way his strong arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against his tall, muscular body.

He kisses you, too deep and with too much tongue for the location, but you tilt your head to let him push his tongue even deeper into your mouth, craving his kiss and his love and the reassurance he gives you that way.

You leave towards the room where you are supposed to change, looking back over your shoulder one last time and Sukuna is still standing there in the hallway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, looking so cool with his tattoos and the pink hair. But you can see the tenseness in his broad shoulders and the worry on his tattooed face.

It makes your chest feel warm, and you can't help but mouth "I love you" in his direction, smiling when you see him say the words too.

Your surgery goes by without any complications, and the moment you wake up, a nurse is already by your side, bringing you tea and something to eat, and some painkillers. But you are impatient, wanting nothing more than to leave and be in Sukuna's comforting embrace, feel the warmth of his body and inhale his scent and hear his velvety low voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

You're glad when you are finally allowed to get up and get dressed again, promising the nurse that you have someone who will stay with you for the next 24 hours.

When you leave the changing room, you see Sukuna leaning against the wall right next to the reception. His tattooed face is a bit pale, and he is playing nervously with his tongue piercing once again.

His maroon eyes meet yours, and he is by your side in a second, a strong arm wrapping around your waist and carefully pulling you against his side, steadying you, holding you securely, making sure you won't fall. His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a long moment, warm and soft,

"Fuck. I'm glad you're finally out of there."

You can hear the strain in his low voice, can hear every ounce of worry and anxiety he felt during the last hours when he was sitting in his room, waiting for the hospital to call him and tell him, you are ok.

You lean gratefully against him, feeling a bit dizzy from the anesthetics, glad that you have your strong boyfriend to hold you.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sukuna."

"How are you, princess?"

"I'm good. Just a bit wobbly on my feet. And I need something to eat. I'm starving!"

And Sukuna laughs softly, sounding so relieved,

"Well, how lucky you are that your boyfriend spent the last few hours in the kitchen to distract himself and prepare your favorite dishes for you."

And suddenly, your sight becomes blurry as tears well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks without you even knowing why you suddenly start crying now that it's over when, in the days leading up to the abortion, you didn't shed a single tear!

But maybe all the stress and anxiety of the last few days finally caught up with you. The contradictory emotions of feeling a bit wistful about letting go of that fantasy of Sukuna and you having your own little family versus the relief you feel that it's over and that you can live your life the way you planned.

But you suspect that, most of all, it is the overwhelming love you feel for Sukuna right at that moment. You are so touched by how caring he is. How mature he was in this situation. That he didn't run, that he didn't leave you to deal with all of this on your own. He is so worried about you and does so much to make you feel okay. He is so strong all the time, so you have someone to lean on.

A sniffle escapes your trembling lips, and Sukuna's eyes widen. He pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair and murmuring soothingly to you,

"Hey, baby, it's ok. Everything's going to be ok. Don't cry."

Your hands are on Sukuna's broad chest, and you feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart through the soft hoodie he is wearing, comforting and reassuring.

"I'm ok, Kuna, I swear. It's just... I love you so much."

"I love you too."

His voice sounds tender when he says the words, and you snuggle closer to him, lifting your head to look at his beautiful tattooed face. And Sukuna leans down a bit, enough so he can brush his lips over yours.

That's how you end up standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, hugging your boyfriend and kissing him slowly as if the two of you are the only people in this world.

But you make it to the parking lot a few minutes later, walking there with the help of Sukuna's strong arm wrapped around you.

Sukuna is so gentle, so caring. He helps you into the car and puts on your seat belt for you as if you can't do it yourself. He stops at a convenience store to get some pads for you, jogging back to the car as if he is running from a crime scene because he is worried about letting you out of his sight even for a few minutes.

He helps you out of the car again, once you have reached your apartment, picks you up princess-style and carries you up the stairs. He sits you down on the couch, wraps you in a warm blanket and glares at you when you try to get up.

"Don't be a brat! Just stay right here and rest and let me bring you the meal I cooked for you with all my fucking love!"

He brings you the food and plops down next to you, checking if you really eat something, like some super stern nurse, and you can't help but feel warm, knowing that your bad boy is so amazingly sweet and caring when it comes to you.

The moment your face twists in pain, Sukuna is on his knees in front of you, fear in his maroon eyes, his large hands on your thighs, looking up at you with worry written all over his tattooed face.

"What's wrong?"

You grit your teeth and smile shakily at him, reaching out to cup his cheek and caress it tenderly, touched by how worried he is for you.

"It's nothing bad, Kuna. They told me I would get cramps after the surgery. It's perfectly normal! But it feels like really bad period cramps. They gave me some painkillers for that. Can you..."

You can't even finish the sentence before Sukuna is on his feet again, already walking over to your bag,

"I'll get them for you!"

You thank him, and he sits down next to you again, watching you the whole time with narrowed maroon eyes until you chuckle and reach over to ruffle his pink hair,

"I won't drop dead if you stop looking at me for one second, you know, baby? Eat something, too, I know you are hungry!"

"Don't joke about stuff like that, princess. I am just taking my job as your personal nurse seriously."

And he really does. For the next few days, Sukuna barely leaves your side. And even a week later, he is still acting differently around you, and you begin to realize that this is probably how he will always be now. Even more protective. Even more caring.

The unplanned pregnancy and the abortion didn't drive a wedge between the two of you. Instead, it made the two of you grow even closer. You shared a life-altering experience. Because even though you decided not to have the baby, it still will be something you will always carry with you. And you will never forget how Sukuna reacted. How he was there for you. How he respected your decision and how he cared for you.

You learned that Sukuna is more than just the sexy bad boy you can have fun with. He showed you that you can always count on him, that he won't run when real problems occur. You learned that if one day in the future you actually want to have a baby, you have a wonderful man by your side who would be a loving partner and a damn good dad.

You sigh happily as you lie in your bed with Sukuna behind you. He has become more cuddly since accidentally knocking you up. He wants to spend every night at your apartment or asks you to stay at his. As if he needs to hold you every night, keeping you safe and sound, wrapped in his strong arms, his buff body pressing against your back, and his lips trailing lazy kisses over your neck.

The two of you are living your regular lives again, going to classes, studying, going to training, to parties. No one else knows what happened to you. It's a secret between you and Sukuna because you both want it that way. No one else has to know. This is just something the two of you share.

A commercial for baby food starts playing in between two episodes of the crime show you are watching. A young family, mom and dad, and a tiny baby. And even though it's been weeks, it still makes you feel a bit weird to see it.

Sukuna's arm tightens around you. Maybe he felt you tense up, or maybe he had the same thoughts as you when seeing the commercial. Either way, his hand slips down to your belly, caressing it gently, and there's a smile in his low voice when he says,

"You know, it's not the end of it, princess, right? We can still have one.... when we are older. If we want."

You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm, muscular body. Your hand lands on top of his larger one, which is resting on your belly now, and you interlace your fingers with his, feeling the weird tension leave your body again.

"If I ever want to have a baby, it will definitely be with you, Sukuna."

I LOVE HIM 💗😭

Thank you so much for all the love on Part 1!! The story wouldn't leave my mind anymore, and after I got several comments and asks where people asked about a possible Part 2, I wanted to continue the story about College sweetheart Sukuna knocking us up and show how Reader and Sukuna deal with both options, so I decided to write two different versions.

I hope you liked Option A and that it could give you comfort.

Option B will be the version where Reader decides to have the baby (or rather babies lol). I plan to post it next week!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[f1goat]

his stripper + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando his friends take him to a stripclub, where he meets you. He's quick to come back weekly, every Tuesday you're his. But when he comes another day and finds you on the lap of some other guy, something in him snaps.

fem!stripper reader x lando norris

trigger warnings: stripper reader, sexual content, smut, a bit of unwanted physical contact (nothing much!) + not proofread as usual

masterlist - playlist

the first time at the stripclub

He’s nervous. This is nothing for him. The whole setting is wrong and puts him off. His mood is getting worse instead of better, but he can’t tell his friends about that. They tried, they really did. After Lando told them about being a bit miserable since the break up with his ex, they tried everything to cheer him up. Nothing really worked. Clubbing all night whenever he could, didn’t do the trick. Flirting shamelessly with every girl he saw, also didn’t work. He believes that tonight is some last option. A ‘if this doesn’t work, nothing will’ kind of option. 

But, this is a fucking stripclub. It won’t help him feel any better. To be honest, it only seems to make things worse. 

Lando looks at every small detail in the club. The atmosphere makes him even more nervous. It surprises him that there are many young guys who seem to be around his age. He always thought there only would be older guys. He takes a sip of his drink. It seems to be some strong cocktail with whiskey. He doesn’t like it. 

“You’re looking as bitter as that drink,” one of his friends tell him jokingly. 

Lando soft sighs and nods, “Maybe you’re right,” he says. 

“Just enjoy this mate,” another friend says. 

Lando tries to think about words that can tell his friends that he won’t enjoy this, but he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. Before he can think about the right words, he’s distracted by the music becoming louder. Almost ashamed he starts to look at the podium, where you enter the place and greet everyone with a timid smile. 

You aren’t what Lando thought a stripper would be. It’s almost as there is an innocence hanging around you. He almost feels like he has to save you from this place. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Lando already starts to feel infected with the thoughts about you. He’s already feeling you enter his mind and making a long term place for yourself.

That can’t be good.

He keeps looking at you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. Everything about you is beautiful. You aren't a model like his ex, but maybe that’s what he likes most about you right now. There’s some sort of natural beauty hanging around you. And in combination with the innocence look on your face, it makes you way too dangerous for him. He should look away from you, leave this place and never come back. But Lando already starts to feel addicted. Fuck, who are you?

“I told you he’d like her.” He hears one of his friends make a remark to another one. He wonders if his friends came here more often. Have saw you before. Maybe even touched you? Fuck, he almost feels himself getting mad at only the thought.

You’re a stripper. He needs to remind himself about that all the time. But when he sees the way you’re moving on the stage, his opinion changes again. You’re not simply stripping like earlier girls on that stage did. It’s almost like you’re performing some sort of art. 

He really is losing his mind here.

Lando looks at all the movements you make. He watches how you slowly tease the crowd with your movements. When you unclasp your bra, Lando almost loses it. He doesn’t want you to show everyone even more of your body. A relieved sigh is leaving his mouth when he notices the nipple stickers on your boobs. 

The short skirt you’re wearing is next. Slowly you turn yourself around to give the crowd a sneak peak. Lando wants nothing more then to feel your ass. When he sees what you’re hiding on the short skirt, he wants nothing more for you to sit in his lap. Eventually you lose the skirt as well. Lando feels in some trance while staring at you. Why can’t he function like a normal person anymore?

When the first girls danced on stage, he couldn’t care less. But with you? He can’t seem to look away. His friends notice it as well. It’s probably even worse then they already expected. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them anymore, until you leave the stage. He can barely withhold himself from throwing money on the stage as well. It seems rude to do so, even though it’s your job. 

Would it be a sin to get you alone with him? 

The next girl shows up and starts her routine, but Lando has lost his focus again. He’s focussing on his friends who are making fun of him for liking you this much. It annoys him how he doesn’t even know who you are, what your name is and how he can see you again. 

“We have one more surprise for you,” his best friend, Max, tells him. Lando gives him a strange look. What is he talking about? Instead of getting an explanation, there’s showing up someone in front of him. It seems to be one of the security members from the club. “Suzuka is ready for you,” he tells Lando. 

“Go with him,” his friends encourage Lando. He feels strange. Who’s Suzuka? Is that a nickname from one of the strippers? Of course his friends picked someone with a name who’s connected to formula one. He sighs, but he does follow the security member. What if it’s you? He needs to know for sure.

In a short amount of time he has followed the guy to a smaller room. There’s no one around yet. The guy tells Lando that Suzuka will be here any moment. It makes him nervous. When he looks around in the room, it’s clear that it’s used for the more private dances. Fuck. He doubts about leaving this room, this place and his friends, to go home. But the small chance of you being Suzuka stops him. So, he takes place on the small couch that’s standing in the room. 

When the door opens, he’s surprised that it is actually you. 

Apparently his friends know him ever better then he already thought. They did pick out the right girl. 

From up close you look even more beautiful to him. Lando again feels like he’s entering some sort of trance. You walk closer towards him. It makes him nervous. What does he need to say to you? He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen next. Is he getting a private dance? Or are his friends just pranking him? 

“Hey,” you softly greet Lando. It amazes him that you still seem shy and timid. He thought that was an act for on the stage. “Hi,” Lando greets you back with even more nerves. 

When you show Lando another small smile, he feels like he’s going to lose it. He needs to feel your body against his. He needs it. Now. His dick has already hardened up and is pressing painfully against his jeans. 

“I need to inform you about the rules first,” you tell him a bit less timid. It’s almost like a business transaction right now. “You can’t touch me unless I give permission first, which I normally don’t. When the time is up, it’s up. No begging for more. This is just a lap dance. Don’t ask for more, because this is all I do. If you want more, find another girl.” 

“You only give lap dances?” Lando asks you. 

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Thank god,” Lando sighs. 

He doesn’t know where this reaction is coming from. He’s just glad that other guys can’t touch you as well. Before you can ask him about his reaction, there’s a slow song starting. Apparently it’s your sign to start dancing. In no time you’re closely pressed up against his body. Slowly grinding your ass against Lando his body. It takes a lot from him to stop himself from touching you. 

Lando doesn’t know how to act. The moves you’re making are making him lose his mind. It’s insane. He wants to touch you, but he can’t. There’s nothing more he wants then to press his lip against any place of your body. To discover your body with his hands. To do whatever you allow him to. But he doesn’t make any movements. He lets you do your thing. He can’t however stop himself from questioning you. 

“What’s your real name?” He asks you when he notices that the song is about to end.

You grind yourself on his clothed dick and even let out a soft moan. Something that surprises you as well. Normally you absolutely hate doing this part of your job, even saying no whenever you can to the private dances. But this guy, he’s doing things to you as well. And that without even doing things.

“I’ll tell mine in return,” Lando tries to convince you. He doesn’t know that you know who he is. You know a lot more about him then he suspects at this point.

“No need Lando,” you tell him. You see how his eyes widen from the surprise. What you don’t see is that Lando feels like he’s really losing everything right now. It sounds heavenly to hear you say his name. “But,” you continue with a soft voice, “if you promise to keep it a secret, you can know mine.”

“Promise,” Lando quickly says.

The music has stopped in the mean time. You know that you have to leave this room, but before you actually do so you move closer to Lando once more. 

“It’s y/n,” you whisper in his ear, “and maybe if you come again, you can figure out some other things about me.” 

It’s the first time ever that you ask someone to come again. 

You really hope you’ll see Lando again. 

the second time at the stripclub

It surprises you when the following Tuesday Lando is already back in the stripclub. You wonder if it’s for you. Or is it just a coincidence? It doesn’t take you long to notice him. He’s early and it seems like he’s alone this time. Before you can think about it in any more details, you’re already distracted by the others girls in the dressing room with you. 

They have seen him as well. It’s not that weird for a celebrity to be seen in this stripclub. It’s Monaco after all. Charles Leclerc has been here a couple times as well and many non formula one related celebs as well. But still, it seems like your coworkers have found some interest in Lando as well. They keep talking about his good looks and how they would drop everything for him. How he can have his way with them, even discarding the rules of the club. “If he wants to fuck me, who am I to say no?” One girl even jokes.

It makes you annoyed in some weird way. Before you had a small bit of hope for Lando to pick you again tonight. But now you realize that last time his friends chose, this time he’ll probably try someone else. Maybe even one from your coworkers who doesn’t follow the rules. 

While standing in front of the mirror you decide to change your outfit again. Now that you know that he’s here again, you have another outfit in mind. It’s a bit more orange then what you’re wearing now, some may even say that it’s more papaya. 

Lando has already made sure that you’re his after your show. The small room from before has been booked again. Since he met you last week, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He needed to see you again. So, here he is. This will probably be the last time, he just needs to prove to himself that you weren’t that special. He hasn’t been this close with another girl since his ex, that must have been the cause for his extreme reaction. 

When you show up in a tiny papaya dress on the stage, Lando has lost all his earlier thoughts.

Fucking hell. He was so wrong. You’re more then special. You’re everything.

He watches your show. He can safely say that he didn’t even miss a millisecond. He saw everything. He couldn’t even tear his eyes of you if he wanted to. 

After your show he’s quick to walk towards the same room as last week. This time he can find it himself. When he’s standing in front of the door, he suddenly starts to feel nervous. Isn’t it weird what he’s doing? What if you think he’s creepy? 

Before he can back out, you’re already opening the door for him. You’re glad when you notice that it is him again. 

“You’re back,” you softly state.

Lando can only nod. 

“That’s great,” you tell him with a smile.

When he walks inside the room with you, he can’t stop focusing on the way your ass bounces every time you take a step. It’s making him even more aroused. When you take him towards the same sofa as last week, Lando lets you. He sits down and waits for the music to start. He waits for you to start dancing again. 

You position yourself on his lap. The music can start any minute, but before you want to do something else. Carefully you take Lando his hands into your own. You place them on your own body. Lando is quick to show you a confused look. 

“Don’t make it inappropriate,” you joke, but there’s a truth hiding into your words. Lando nods quickly. He doesn’t move his hands. The feeling of your soft skin underneath his hands is already enough for him. Softly he holds your waist, waiting for you to continue.

Then the music starts. Lando loses himself in your moves, but he makes sure that his hands stay on your waist. It surprises you. When you’re done a few minutes later, Lando has many questions for you but has no idea with which one he should start. Eventually he asks you the worst one.

“Why?”

He doesn’t need to explain himself, you know what he’s asking. 

“Money,” you answer as if it’s the only possible answer. For you it is. 

Lando grabs his wallet, doesn’t think about his next movements and gets all the cash he has out of it. He gives you all of it. You don’t know what to say or do. Thankfully you accept it.

“Take the rest of the week off please,” Lando softly asks you. Then the lights in the room are going on again. It’s your sign to leave. You do however nod at Lando his question. 

“Next week, same time?” You ask Lando jokingly before leaving the room. This time it’s Lando who shows you a nod.

You’re boss is ready to kill you when you tell him you’ll only work on Tuesdays from now on. Lando his money is maybe not enough to make such a decision, but you’re sure about yourself. You’ll manage. 

the fourth time at the stripclub

Every Tuesday he’s here again. Always at the beginning of the night. He’s the first one to book you for a lapdance. He’s also the only one you agree to. You guess that he pays your boss good money, because the guy doesn’t even complain anymore if you deny other guests. 

Last weeks you have gotten to know Lando better. Conversations are still small and awkward, but you have the idea that you’re getting somewhere with Lando. Before you always went to the stripclub because ‘you had to’, now you’re looking forward it. Lando changed things for you. Even the dance you perform for everyone is almost nice now. You love the feeling of Lando watching you. It even makes you feel kinda aroused. 

Sometimes you can’t stop staring at Lando when you’re dancing in front of the crowd. It’s insane how he makes you feel. Is it weird that it almost feels like you’re crushing on him? That must be weird.

“Babygirl,” Lando greets you happily when you walk into the room. You’re quick to greet him back and give him a small hug. Lando smiles at you. He can safely say that Tuesday has become the favorite day of his week. Sometimes he thinks about coming more often, but he barely can. His schedule is busy and there are a lot of races. It may be only Tuesday that he sees you and he doesn’t even speak to you for a long time, but he really likes it. Maybe he can even say that he likes you. Not that he’s surprised about that, it was pretty clear after the impact you made on him the first time.

Slowly you move your body over Lando. You let your ass grind on his cock. Lando feels it hardening underneath your touch. Things feel different today. It almost seems like you’re doing even more then the other times. You make sure that with every move, you make contact with his crotch. Shaking your ass as sensual as you can.

When you turn around and take place on Lando his lap, he lets out a moan. Normally he has to take care of himself after what you’re doing to him, but this time he already starts to feel close to an orgasm. You grind yourself on his lap. It makes him insane. When you grab Lando his head and softly move it to your neck, the hint is clear. Lando let himself explore your neck and shoulders. He presses soft kisses against it.

It seems like you want him to enjoy things even more. His hand, which was earlier sneaked around your waist, is now in your hand and on it’s way to a new location. Lando lets out his hardest moan so far when he feels your boob in his hand. Carefully he moves his hand underneath your bralette. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you just to be sure. 

“Yes please,” you’re quick to reply.

That is everything it takes for Lando to start exploring your breasts. You let him know that he can use his other hand was well. He’s quick to do so. Softly he kneads your boobs. It earns him a soft moan from you. Something that only motivates him to continue his movements. He gives one of your nipples a soft pinch, it causes you to let out another moan. 

When the music ends, the two of you don’t even notice. Lando is focused on you. Your focused on Lando and his touch. It’s a loud knock on the door that brings the two back of you back to reality. You know it’s one of the security guards, who’s telling you that the time is up. 

Fuck. You think it, Lando says it. 

“Fuck,” Lando mutters. 

“It’s more for extra time,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Since when do you do extra time?” Lando asks you, referring back to his first meeting with you in which you told him that time’s up means time’s up. 

“Do you want to masturbate or do you want me to help you out?” You ask Lando. 

It’s almost unrealistic how hurried Lando gets to the door. He’s quick to open it, put some money in the worker his hands and slams it close again. Now he can only hope that he didn’t hear you wrong. 

He’s rather quick to find out that he heard you correctly. You’re dropped to your knees and sitting in front of him. When Lando was talking with the security member, you appeared to pull off your bralette. Lando can’t stop looking at your boobs. Since when is he this easily affected by only boobs? Lando almost feels ashamed for himself. He feels like a teenage boy.

You help him to undo his belt in the mean time. Lando pulls down his pants. His boxer stays on - for now he guesses. You press a soft kiss on his member through his underwear. Then you take it in your hand. His boxer doesn’t stop you from stroking his boner. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans caused by your movements. 

It’s the first time you’re doing something like this in the club. You know that other girls use this as a way to make even more money. Crazy enough, this isn’t about the money. You really want to make Lando feel good right now. 

He might have felt like a teenager before, but when Lando feels himself getting so close that he’s about to cum in his underwear - he really thinks he’s acting like one. 

“Fuck y/n,” Lando moans when his orgasm hits him. 

You can only smile proudly when you feel the wetness coming through his boxers.

the seventh time at the stripclub

You’re always happy when it’s Tuesday and you’re waiting for Lando again. After the first time you helped him getting off, things have changed between you two. You might not have kissed yet or have sex, but his dick has been in your hand and mouth a couple times now. It’s even arousing for you as for him. 

“Hey,” you greet Lando enthusiastically when you walk into the small room and see him sitting already. Lando shows you a small smile while greeting you back. His tone is less enthusiastic then normally. You wonder what’s going on. There’s barely time to figure that out. The music is already starting and you move yourself around Lando.

“You don’t have to,” Lando tells you. Confused you back out a bit and look at Lando. There’s something wrong, but you can’t figure it out. Lando does however pulls you closer towards himself and positions you on his lap. It’s nothing new that he touches you. Since the second time you danced for him, you allowed him to. 

“What’s wrong?” You eventually ask Lando. He even seems sad how longer you look at him. 

“I won’t be coming for a couple weeks,” Lando explains, “I guess three weeks?” 

“Oh?” You’re quick to match Lando his disappointed voice. Why isn’t he coming the next couple weeks? You wonder if it’s something you did. What if he’s never coming back again? 

Lando quickly notices you disappointed look. Is it bad that he kinda likes it? Not that he wants to disappoint you, but he’s glad that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like this. Maybe he can finally state that there’s something more going on between the two of you. 

“It’s the triple header princess,” Lando explains to you, “After that I’ll be all over you again.” 

“Deal?” You jokingly ask.

“Deal.”

The music has come to end end in the mean time. You hear the last tones fade away. It means you have to leave this room, but you don’t want to. Lando doesn’t remove his hands from your body as well. You can’t look away from him. Then Lando does something unusual. He softly grabs you chin and gets your face closer to his own. 

“Can I?” Lando asks you. 

You can only nod. Then you notice Lando coming even closer. His eyes are pretty from this close. You notice all kind of stuff. If you wanted to, you could count the small freckles on his face. But Lando is quick to snatch away your attention. Softly he presses his lips onto yours. 

It feels good. Almost too good. You know that you’ve never kissed with someone like this before. Lando seems to be careful with you, something else then your used to from exes. Lando is enjoying it too. He can’t seem to pull back anymore. If it’s up to him, he stays like this for the rest of the night. And maybe longer. 

When you slowly pull back from Lando, he’s quick to send you a questioning look. “The time,” you softly whisper. Lando nods understandingly. 

“I’ll see you when I’m back,” Lando tells you.

Before you can anything, Lando adds something else.

“I promise babygirl.” 

“I already can’t wait for you to come back,” you confess. 

That causes Lando to press another soft kiss against your lips. 

the eight time at the stripclub

It’s Sunday night. Lando couldn’t stop himself. After his race he barely made time for the press and the debrief from his team. He could only focus on getting home. Or better said, getting back to you. Last three weeks have been killing him. Every time he had a moment free, he could only think about you. And not in the way your body feels on his own, or about your magical hands and mouth that make him cum as if he’s a teenage boy experiencing his first orgasm. No, he can’t stopt thinking about how he feels while he’s with you. 

Now that he thinks back at it, his friends did find the solution for his bad mood when they took him to the stripclub. They might have thought that it was because the activity, but they brought him to you. 

Lando is pretty sure about his feelings for you. He thought about telling you about them when he saw you the last time, but he didn’t dare to. Now however, he’s sure that he needs to tell you. He needs to get you away from that terrible strip club for the rest of your live, so you can be his. 

When he walks into the stripclub he’s quick to try to book you for a lapdance later tonight. It annoys him when he hears you aren’t taking those tonight. Lando is quick to wonder if you’re already booked? Fuck. He barely thinks about things like that because it makes him so upset every time. He knows you’re a stripper. Other guys have seen your body barely clothed, maybe you even gave lap dances to other guys - maybe you’re doing that right now. Lando tries to shake off the terrible thoughts. He needs you to be his.

Only his.

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for a night as bottle girl. It isn’t your normal job. Normally you don’t even work on this day. But, because you needed a favor from your boss for upcoming Tuesday you had to do this in return. You have decided that it’s one of the last times. The favor you needed was the small room for the same amount of money Lando pays normally, but then for the whole night. It’s the last time you plan to be here. You need to tell Lando about your feelings, then you need to quit and watch how things will go.

The only reason you kept the job for this long, is because of Lando.

When you walk outside the dressing room and start to waitress for your first table, you’re quick to feel annoyed. You boss coupled you at the worst table. It’s one of the tables that has the highest price, which causes the guests to think everything is about them. 

Lando looks around and wonders if you’re even working tonight. He doesn’t know your schedule. He doesn’t even know your phone number. Why didn’t he ask for that before? He doesn’t take a seat, he keeps looking around in hope to find you. 

It doesn’t take longer then ten minutes before one of the guests from your table starts to act inappropriate. “I believe you can make those other tables wait for a moment,” the guest tells you while gesturing you to take a seat next to him. You softly sigh but give him what he wants. In no time his arm has found a place on your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable. You want to stand up and leave again, but the guy holds you on your place.

“Maybe you can give me a lapdance princess?” The guy asks you. The nickname annoys you. It feels wrong. You start to miss Lando even more. “I’ll pay you a lot for it,” he whispers as if it’s a secret. You try to deny him, but he has already pulled you until his own lap. You squirm while trying to get away from him, but the guy only likes that more. 

Lando realizes that he has gotten in a more private area from the stripclub by now. He has never seen this part before. It seems more luxurious then the rest of the place. He guesses this is for the guys who spend a lot of money here. Not for someone like him, who’s only spending money because he fell for one of the girls. He walks around, but doesn’t suspect to find you here. 

Then he sees you. It seems like you’re sitting on some other guys lap. Lando doesn’t even notice the look of discomfort on your face at first. He can only think about getting you away from there. This will sound crazy and way too possessive, but he needs to figure out a way to get you to quit from this awful job. He needs to find a way to make you his.

One of the guys on the table is the first one who notices Lando. “Hey Lando!” He yells enthusiastically, “Come join us.”

It’s that moment that you notice Lando as well. You try to get off the lap from the guy, but he still has a firm grip on you. He doesn’t let you go. Lando notices it. He even starts to notice the uncomfortable way you’re sitting and the annoyed look on your face. He can barely withhold himself from calling you one of his typical nicknames or your own name.

“Come here,” he instructs you as polite as he can manage, “You’re forgetting about my table. Everyone is thirsty.” He is lying and he can only hope that everyone will fall for it. The guy seems distracted and you use the moment to get out of his grip. Quickly you stand up and walk towards Lando. You’re so happy with him right now that you can kiss him. 

Not that you don’t want or can’t do that any other moment.

Lando doesn’t think anymore. He feels your presence next to himself. It makes him glad. The jealousy that has builded up in his chest seems to get a bit smaller again. He does however manage to instruct you something else.

“Tell your boss that you’re quitting and then meet me at the entrance.”

You can only nod at Lando his instructions. He seems a bit mad, but you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you, those guys, your boss or someone else. His jaw is slacked and a fierce gaze is found in his eyes. He looks when you walk to your boss, he notices the way the man his face falls flat - probably because he won’t get Lando his money anymore and then he sees you turning around again. That’s his sign to get to the entrance. 

When he sees you coming towards him a bit later, Lando is quick to grab your hand. “You’re coming home with me,” he tells you. You can only nod.

the first time at Lando’s place

“Fuck,” Lando curses, “The things you’re doing to me.” His lips are dragging on your neck. The elevator ride seems to be never ending. Lando his hands are all over you. “It’s unfair how fucking beautiful you are,” Lando continues, “Need to feel every part of you.” 

You’re thankful when the elevator reaches the right floor. Lando doesn’t give you the chance to walk for yourself. He picks you up and walks with you to his own apartment. Within the first seconds that you’re inside, Lando is already walking towards his bedroom. He drops you softly on his bed and hoovers above you. 

“Lan,” you softly moan when he softly sucks on the skin by your neck. 

He moves and presses his lips on yours. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s hard, rough and shows you exactly  how much he has missed you lately. His tongue is fighting with yours for dominance, something he wins in only seconds. Lando lets out a soft groan when he releases himself from you. 

“You’re mine,” Lando grunts. He almost says sorry after saying that. An ashamed feeling starts to creep up on his chest. But when he hears a soft moan leaving your mouth, he starts to feel less nervous about his remark. “Yours,” you even tell him with a soft voice. 

“Yeah?” Lando asks you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. In the mean time he focusses on getting you out of your clothes. Not that you’re wearing many. 

“Yes,” you confirm. 

Lando pulls you on top of himself. “I want you to dance like normally,” he instructs you, “I want to feel your naked body on mine while you do so.” You’re fast to remove his clothes as well. All your clothes have piled up on the bedroom floor. Lando lets out a soft moan while he feels you grinding on his dick. 

“Feels even better like this princess,” he moans. 

“You know,” you softly say, “I was earning a favor from my boss tonight. Had planned a whole thing for you this Tuesday.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you admit, “We had the room for ourself for the whole night. After that I was planning to quit.”

“Was it a goodbye for me?” Lando asks you confused. You lower your body. Softly you grab Lando his boner. You align it with your entrance before lowering your body even more. When Lando his dick enters your cunt, you let out a hard moan. Lando moans as well, but he keeps waiting for your answer. Were you going to say bye to him? Forever?

“It was not,” you confess, “I hoped it was a hello for our new life together.”

Your words silence Lando for a bit. He has no idea what to say. You slow down with your movements. Lando keeps thinking. Does this mean what he thinks it does? You like him? You what to explore those feelings for him? 

“I like you babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I really do.”

You increase your pace. Riding on Lando his dick while confessing how much you like him too. “You’re made for me,” Lando moans while he feels close to his orgasm, “Fucking made for only me.”

In only minutes the two of you focus on the way your orgasm hit. Lando groans. You let out a self yelp. Lando shows you a small smile, you return it. 

“You do realize that you’re my girlfriend now, right?” Lando asks you jokingly. 

“Duh,” you reply with the same jokingly tone. 

Lando presses his body close against yours. In some weird way he can’t wait to tell everyone about you. He’s never leaving you again for three fucking weeks. It’s only the conversations with his friends who were here with him the first night will be a bit different. But he doesn’t care about things like that. He can’t wait to show you the world. 

Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek. “But, you can’t forget how to dance like this,” Lando tells you, “You really need to keep doing this to me.”

“Idiot,” you laugh.

“Maybe you need to practice again?”

Lando has your on top of himself in no time again. 

a/n: a small smutty one shot for you guys :)) for now i'll focus on my mini serie 'the roommate' again, but you can always send requests xx

[lymtw]

It's three in the morning and the sound of your phone vibrating against the bed wakes you from your peaceful slumber. You lazily reach for the blinding light next to you, instantly knowing who's on the other end when you see the blue diamond emoji.

"Hello..."

You were very much asleep, the raspiness in your voice making it that much more evident.

"Hey, sorry to wake you. Are you okay to talk for a bit?"

Satoru sounds like he's wide awake.

"Don't worry about it. What's up?"

You roll onto your side, your phone between your ear and your pillow. If you close your eyes for more than three seconds, you'll fall asleep again.

There's a slight pause between your response and his. Maybe the signal is bad or he didn't hear you.

"Is everything alright, Satoru?"

"I can't sleep."

He responds quickly this time. His tone didn't change. He didn't sound like he was in distress or too worried about the fact.

"Oh. Uh... have you tried drinking some chamomile tea? I personally don't like it, but when I need to rest, I suck it up and force myself to drink a cup."

He chuckles on the line. You always do what is best for you, even if it's not something you particularly enjoy.

"I think i'm just missing you a lot. Can I come over?"

It was strange to think he hadn't tried a tea remedy for his inability to sleep, but who were you to tell him that? Sleep deprivation does things to people.

"Right now? It's a little late, don't you think?"

You blink slowly, trying to adjust your blurry vision in the dark.

"I promise I won't fall asleep behind the wheel. I really want to see you. Please say yes."

You shut your eyes tightly and open them, your vision clearing up a little. When have you ever said 'no' to him? He always manages to change your mind when you do.

You sigh.

"Okay. You have the spare key to my apartment. I'm going back to sleep."

"I'll be there in like fifteen minutes. Love you, bye!"

You can hear the joy in his tone. He was genuinely so uncomfortable being alone with himself, that he had to wake you up so late at night to invade your space.

–

You knocked out again, once you hung up the phone. You were in such deep sleep that you didn't even notice when Satoru got to your apartment, or when he entered your room.

You did feel the bed weigh down when he laid down next to you, and your nose couldn't ignore his sweet, sweet scent.

"Baby," he whispered. His hand went up to your face, caressing your delicate, peaceful features. "I'm here."

"Okay, now go to sleep," you mumble, your eyes still closed.

"Come here." He effortlessly turns you over and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip. He scatters kisses all over your face, making sure to elongate duration of the ones he leaves on your lips.

"Baby," he coos. "Come on, kiss me back."

He's like a dog—constantly begging for your attention. The thought makes you crack a smile, one Satoru does not miss.

"I know you're awake." He smiles, putting your leg back in place, before rolling over until he's on top you.

"Fucking hell, 'toru," you break, cracking up at how he had no remorse after crushing your body.

"There's my pretty baby. I'm so glad you're awake now."

"It's your fault," you grumble.

"If wanting to love you is a crime, then throw me in the slammer and toss the key." His nose dove into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "You're just so pretty, and you're all mine."

His affection was starting to evolve into more than lovey dovey kisses. His lips stung every time they met your delicate neck. His hands were roaming beneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He loved the way your breathing quickened. It had him chasing more of the reactions associated with the hummed melodies.

"You are mine, right?" He knows the answer, but hearing you say it from time to time always makes him happy. His icy blue eyes can read your response before you even form it. He loves flustering you with eye contact tied with touches that burned with desire. To top it all off, he loves teasing you to see the way you scramble your response. "It's okay if you're not." He smirks, catching the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. "That's subject to change, isn't it?" He eggs on.

"I'm yours, Satoru. I belong to you," you say, making it crystal clear to him. "All yours." With this, he wouldn't doubt it again until the next time he wasn't with you.

"Yeah? You know, I would've done anything to hear those words from you." He leans down to kiss you, a spike of arousal hitting him when you bit his lip and sucked on it.

"Oh... you can't do that. I will put a baby in you." He has never said anything so seriously.

"I dare you to put a baby in me," you say, teasingly. You know he won't do it. He's not ready to share you yet.

"Keep acting like that and I will."

His lips ghost the column of your neck, trailing down your chest and lower to your abdomen. Your oversized gown of t-shirt was the only thing standing between your body and his eyes. He pulled it up and off with a little help from you, tossing aside after.

You were a little nervous about what was running through Satoru's head. He was devouring you with just his eyes and already you felt so flustered.

"God, don't ogle me like that, 'toru." You put your hands over your breasts—a makeshift bra to cover what he was staring at.

"Let me see you, baby," he pries, gently. He puts his hands on yours, not pulling them away as to not make you do anything you don't want to do. You end up moving your hands on your own, but turn away, unable to hold his gaze when he's watching you that way.

He cups your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples, instantly making them pebble. He could feel the way you tried to press your thighs together, your relief disturbed by his body wedged between your legs. You tried your hardest to remain composed, but his fingers wouldn't let up. His eyes were glued to your face, watching intently until you let out a shaky breath.

"Mhm..." he hummed, grinning at your bashful attempt to stay quiet. "I know this is driving you crazy."

"Shut... up."

"If it isn't, why can I feel you rubbing up against my stomach."

You stop and your cunt throbs at the suddenness of it.

"Just let it out and we can move on. Let me hear that pretty little ah-"

"Fuck," you whimper, interrupting his instructive moan. Your back arches slightly off the mattress, your hands flying to grip his wrists, tightly.

"Good girl," he praises, his fingers letting off your tortured peaks. Little butterfly kisses are placed between your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, where he spends so much time eliciting giggles from you.

His fingers hook around the elastic band of your shorts and panties, pulling them both down in one swoop.

"I didn't know kissing turned you on so much," he says, eyeing the glossy remnants left in your underwear.

"'toru..." you whine, feeling somewhat embarrassed about the amount of arousal you feel at the simplest touches from him.

"What? I'm not complaining one bit. It's cute."

He slides two fingers between your folds, easily collecting your sweetness. You jolt at the sudden contact, looking at him with doe eyes.

"Oh, baby. I don't deprive you of my touch that much, do I?"

You shake your head as he continues to collect your nectar, his fingers dipping in slightly to fully coat his fingertips.

"My sensitive princess." He smiles, softly. "How many times do you wanna cum?"

He never asks you this, always just giving you everything he can give or what you can take. You go for a small number, not wanting to seem excessively needy.

"Maybe two times? Please?" Your voice sounds meek. Like you're asking him for the impossible.

Satoru just chuckles. "How 'bout we triple that number?"

–

"S-Satoru—fuck— just like that, like that!" Your head pushes back against the pillow, your hands beside your head, scrunching up the sheets.

This was the fourth orgasm. There was cum spotted over your inner thighs and sweat layered over both your bodies. He had driven you to insanity like he planned.

"More, baby?" He grunts, thrusting with his continuous pace.

"Please," you cry out, fresh tears welling in your eyes again.

Satoru loved watching the tears stream down your face because he got to lean down and kiss them away. He takes the opportunity to praise you— to tell you how good you're being for him.

Your back arched and you braced yourself for the intensity of your next orgasm. Satoru swallowed your moans, kissing you fervently through his own rush. His breathing stuttered when he felt your nails clawing at his back, and once again his cum spurted into you. His breathing was heavy through the nose due to his insistence of kissing you until he you patted him for air.

"Fuck," you muttered. You let out an out of breath laugh, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to even out your breathing.

"That's five, baby." He exhales sharply, leaning back and running a hand through his dampened locks. You look at him with twinkling eyes, a smirk being thrown in your direction from your admiration.

"Come here," you say, outstretching your arms towards him. Satoru immediately fills the vacancy, sighing when you rake your nails against the nape of his neck. "Want you to take your time with this last one."

He takes that as a green light to start up again. He guides his cock into you again, savoring the hum that leaves you when he stuffs you again and begins his slow rhythm.

"'toru?" Your voice sounded sultry to his ears.

"Hm?"

"This won't happen again. I hope you know that." You're trying your hardest not laugh or make any sounds that take from the meaning of what you're saying.

He had to raise his head to meet your gaze. Something in the way he looked at you made you believe that this would definitely happen again.

"I hope it does. I love having you under me."

"It's inconvenient. It's so late, 'toru. Why can't we fuck when i'm not trying to sleep? Like in the daytime, or earlier in the night?"

His lips trace your jawline, and you just know he's going for your neck. Satoru lives for pointing out the marks he left on you, the day after.

"Simple," he hums. "I want you to myself." His hips continue to rock into you at the same languid pace. "At night, nobody is gonna take you from me. You won't be distracted and I get all your attention to myself." He kisses your neck. "You're all mine at night. Nobody expects you to be awake."

You gasp when he hits a spot that aches deliciously.

"Come on, baby. Give it to me," he murmurs into your neck. You can feel the way his back ripples as he instinctively picks up the pace. He was overwhelming, thrusting deeper and deeper like he was trying to consume you. What was supposed to be a slow drive towards your final orgasm of the night, turned into him unapologetically using his stamina to lure everything he could out of you. He was almost too much with the way his mouth was ruthless towards your neck and the bruising grip he kept on your hips. You were rendered the smallest thing for him.

"Satoru," you moaned, mindlessly grabbing onto his shoulder blades.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." He kisses you, tenderly, heavily contrasting the savage speed of thrusts.

You whimpered into the lip lock. Your heels dug into the mattress and your toes curled from the intensity of the pleasure you felt. Your breathing became heavier but Satoru refused to unlink his lips from yours. He couldn't when the sounds you made tasted like heaven on his tongue. His own sounds mingled with yours, a harmony that let you know that you weren't the only one feeling good. He was rutting into you, a telltale sign that he was about to cum.

"Mmm..." he hums, before unlatching his lips from yours. He panted as he watched you unravel beneath him, the smallest pinch between your brows as you gushed on him again. The way your walls spasmed around him had him following right after, another load painting your walls.

He grinned at you devilishly, the expression followed by a bright and sunny, airy chuckle. He pulls out of you, and looks down to watch your combined fluids slowly ooze out of you.

"Damn, you really tried putting a baby in me." You sigh, heavily, immediately regaining his attention. "Why do we fuck like this every time?" You rub your eyes, your sleepiness coming back around.

"I'll get one in there someday." He rubs his palm over your stomach. "And also, it's always like that because I love the face you make when you cum and you love the process of giving me that sight." His eye conveyed a seductiveness to their expression that kept you in check.

Your face goes red, warm to the touch. "Shut up." You sit up and playfully shove him.

"I get to cover you in semipermanent kisses, too." His hand comes up to the side of your neck and his fingers trace the red smudges that will darken over time. You roll your eyes, yet still put your hand over his, bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"We should shower. It's almost five in the morning." You ignore the mischievous glint in his eyes and the way he's obviously trying to suppress a boyish grin.

"Carry me, please?"

Satoru chuckles, knowing exactly why you want him to carry you.

[moonstruckme]

I absolutely adore your roommate James series! It’s so tender and soft and sweet and it feels like the literary version of a hug 😭 you nail it every time!

Thank you sweetness!!! I am giving you a hug actually <3

cw: threatening with a weapon

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Things have come to a point where James needs to admit to himself that he likes you as more than a friend. 

The problem is, he likes you as a friend so much. He’s no stranger to the dilemma of risking a friendship for something more, but he’s not a teenager anymore and you’re not Lily. James knows he wouldn’t be able to play it off as a silly, harmless crush with you. And, really, he wouldn’t want to. You bully your way into his thoughts all day long. Your sweet voice, the way you talk with your eyes, tiny moments like the way your lips parted when he’d first slipped and called you sweetheart. You’d schooled your expression into teasing exasperation almost immediately, but there had been a softening in your eyes that made him impatient to do it again.

If he told you all that, James would probably come home to find all your things gone. You can barely handle it when he tells you you look nice. He doesn’t want to lose you. 

So, against his wishes and all his instincts and proclivities, he’s going to let it lie. James wants to be your friend more than he wants to discover what else you could be together. He can love you this way, too. 

That doesn’t do anything to deaden the thrill that goes up his spine when he picks up his phone and hears your voice on the other end, though.

“James?” 

“Y/n?” He checks the number on his phone. It’s not in his contacts. 

“Yeah. Um, are you—are you busy?” There’s a wobble in your voice. James’ heart drops straight down to his stomach. 

“I’m not,” he says, stopping short of the field where his teammates are gathering and turning back towards his car. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah.” It’s clearly not, but he was silly to ask. Of course you’d say that. “I just, if you’re free, I was wondering if you could maybe pick me up?” 

That wobble hasn’t gone from your voice. James’ heart trembles in solidarity. 

He gets back in his car, starting the ignition with perhaps a tad too much force. “I’m on my way,” he promises. “Where are you, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m outside the Waterstones on Manor Road, you know where that is?” 

“I know the one, yeah.” 

Your voice sounds held together by fragments. “I’m sorry, it’s far.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, then regrets it instantly. This is hardly the time for a good-natured scolding. He turns out of the parking lot. “I’m coming. What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve—I’ve had my phone and wallet taken. I don’t have my key to the apartment.” 

“Taken?” James’ head buzzes like a TV turned to the wrong channel. “By who?” 

“A man, I—I don’t know. Um, I’m borrowing this woman’s phone, and I think I should give it back.”

His lungs feel small, panic choking him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be safe, yeah?”  

“Yeah.” A breath crackles through the phone. James wonders if you’d been choking, too. “Thanks, James.” 

“Just be safe.” 

The sun has dipped below most buildings by the time he gets there. It makes it difficult to see you, but James’ eyes work like a compass, finding your shadowy form curled up on the curb. The bookstore looks to be closed or close to it, no patrons walking by you as you sit with your knees bent close to your chest. 

You see his car pull up, and he’s halfway to you before you’re even standing. Your arms come around James as readily as his around you, your face squished willingly into the fabric of his workout shirt. Your breath seems to stutter out of you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, grasping the back of your head. He’s not sure if he’s talking to you, or himself, or either of you. He’ll tell whoever will listen. “You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s alright.” 

“Sorry,” you squeak. “I don’t know why I’m crying now.” 

“You’re okay,” James says again, just for good measure. His lips find the top of your head. “What happened?” 

“I think I was mugged,” you laugh. It comes out warped, completely unlike the sound he’s spent months chasing after. “This guy showed me a knife, and told me to hand him my bag and phone, and I just gave them to him. It was right out in the open.” Another jagged, heart-aching laugh. “I feel so stupid.” 

“Why would someone else mugging you make you stupid?” James lets you go enough to give you a little space, but his arms stay around you, his hand rubbing firmly over your shoulder blade. “Did you call the police?” 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It already looks bitten to shreds. “No.” 

He nods, taking a breath. James isn’t typically the responsible one in his relationships. He’s not good at knowing what to do. It makes him think of being thirteen and seeing Sirius all bruised and broken, feeling his heart break and knowing that he had to fix things despite the both of them being too young to have any clue how to deal with something so huge. James is an adult now, but he still feels too young. 

“Do you want to go home?” he asks you. 

You bite down hard on your lip, but your eyes gloss anyway. “Yeah,” you say, voice breaking. 

James pulls you close and gives in to treating you the way he wants to, kisses pressed into your hairline and tender words pouring from his lips. He gets you into the car and takes you home. 

Throughout the rest of the evening, you’re at once more reticent and more talkative than you’ve ever been. You’ll stare into the distance for minutes at a time, but then you’ll speak up, seemingly randomly, about some small fact you’d forgotten or a thought that’s been pushing at your consciousness. You tell him that you don’t think you could describe the man well enough to the police. That you have no concept of how long you stood around before you thought to ask for someone else’s phone. That you sort of wish you’d refused to hand yours over, because really what was the worst that could have happened?

“Well, he could have stabbed you,” James says.

“Yeah, but how often is that really fatal? And he might not have. It’s embarrassing, all he had to do was show me the knife and I turned everything over. I probably would have been fine.” 

“I don’t think you’re automatically fine if you’re not dead, angel. You were still at risk of being stabbed.” 

“I’d still have my phone and everything, though.” 

“I think you’re worth a bit more than that stuff.” 

“Mm, agree to disagree.” 

James does things he doesn’t particularly want to do—phoning your bank, filing a police report online, texting your landlord about a new set of keys—and several things he really does want to do. Once you’ve changed into your cozy clothes he practically swaddles you in blankets, putting a hot chocolate in your hand and that show you’re always watching on the TV. He makes you dinner, teases you until he gets a real smile, puts your mum’s number in his phone and texts her to let her know you’re okay. James touches you amply, lips on your cheek and hand smoothing the hair from your face and one knee pressing into your leg through the blanket. 

And you let him. 

[kyletogaz]

Sharing Is Caring

established soap x fem!reader, ghost x fem!reader, pre-ghoap x fem!reader, soap & ghost are menaces, just 3.5k words full of dialogue & everyone being nasty

“shove it up your ass, mactavish!”

“bonnie, wait—” johnny reached out to grab your arm to keep you from storming past him and to your bedroom, but you yanked yourself out of his grasp with a scowl on your pretty face.

“don’t you bonnie me, john. i cannot believe you!” you almost laughed when he started protesting at your use of his government name.

“john?!” he squawked indignantly, before narrowing his eyes.

you raised an eyebrow at your lover, “that’s your name, is it not?”

a deep rumble of laughter sounded off from behind you, making you turn to see simon sitting on your sofa, staring at both of you with an expression full of mirth. you glared at him for a second, then turned back to johnny who was pouting. well he should have thought about that before he did what he did.

“you better explain yourself, johnny. how did simon get that video of me?” as soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted asking, because you already know the answer. you watched johnny glance at simon first, then back to you, before he shrugged and gave you a look. he’d sent the video to simon. “did you show kyle too?” you asked with a look of horror. “what about your captain?” you’d have to go dig a hole and bury yourself in it if he did.

johnny, the bastard, actually had the audacity to smirk and tell you that he only sent the video to simon, and that he should have sent him the other one too. it was obvious to you, that your man clearly didn’t give a damn.

all you could do was stare at him in shock. "what the hell is wrong with you!? i know he's your bestie, but do you have to share everything with him?” you’re actually terrified at the thought of johnny letting simon watch the other video.

"that a problem, doll?"

"is that a—yes, it’s a problem,” you snapped at simon, before sighing loudly. “you know what, screw this." you needed to be far away from them.

but you don't even make it off the couch. two sets of hands yanked you back down. you let out a hiss of annoyance when simon mentioned the movie not being over yet. as if you really gave a shit about what’s happening on the tv screen.

“yer the one who picked it out in the first place, hen.”

you make sure johnny sees which finger you’re holding up in his direction. fuck off. to annoy you even further, johnny made sure to give you as less space as possible, so that you were practically sitting in their laps. you begged whichever god who would listen to give you strength. you folded your arms over your chest with a huff as you stared at the tv screen, while silently conjuring up ways to make johnny pay for sending simon that video of you fucking yourself with your favorite dildo.

“gonna pout about it?” simon asked, his voice low in your ear.

you rolled your eyes at him, silently fuming when he laughed. you wanted so badly to tell him and johnny to go to hell, but you kept your mouth shut. and you were too silent for their liking, seeing as though you always had something to say during movie night.

“ye not gonna stay mad at us all night, are ye bonnie?” johnny asked with an imploring look, his blue eyes getting sadder by the second.

“don’t look at me like that, mactavish,” you scowled, before turning your head away. he wasn’t fooling anybody with those puppy dog eyes.

“for what’s it worth, it was good wankin’ material.”

simon’s words and johnny’s poorly concealed laughter was your last straw. they watched you shove your way off the sofa and stomp down the hallway to your bedroom, both of them wincing when you made sure to slam the door as loud as you could.

johnny heaved a sigh. “well ye’v gone and done it now, simon.”

simon waved him off, telling him that you’d be fine once you were done with your tantrum. he gave you a few more minutes, before he got off the sofa and headed straight for your bedroom. he was surprised when the doorknob turned without any resistance. you didn’t even sit up when you heard the door open. you knew it would only be a matter of time, before one of them barged into the room.

“you done actin’ like a brat?”

your first thought was to ignore him, but then you realized simon wasn’t going to go away if you didn’t answer his question. “just leave me alone, simon.”

but simon refused. you let out a groan when you felt the bed shift, as warm hands tried to pry your legs open. “let me in.”

you don’t move. you stare off to the side, so you don’t have to look at him. you’re still upset with him and johnny. “could have sworn i told you to leave me alone,” you pointed out, not even bothering to hide your annoyance. you really wanted to tell him to kiss your ass, but knowing the type of man simon was, he would have flipped you over, pulled your shorts down and did just that.

“wanna fuck you, let me in,” simon demanded as he rubbed up and down your thighs.

you pressed your lips together to hide a soft moan when he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. you had half a mind to push him away, while the rest of your brain zeroed in on the fact that your pussy was starting to get wet. then you remembered johnny, your fucking boyfriend, who was still in the living room. you sat up so fast, you almost knocked your knee into simon’s skull. and maybe you should have, it would serve him right.

“this is crazy.” simon’s never approached you like this before. “why do you want to–” you looked away, not even being able to finish your sentence. simon wanted to fuck you and you were going to let him, if you were satisfied with his answer.

“because i want you,” he confessed in a flat tone. “wanted you since the first day johnny introduced us to each other.”

what!?

your eyes widened at that. “simon that was seven months ago!” you were wondering why the hell he never said anything. “when you say you want me, what does that even mean?” you’re almost afraid to hear the answer. did simon just want sex? or did he want more? did you even want him to have more than just your pussy?

“want you to cum on my cock.” simon also wanted you to be his. he wanted to bury himself in your heart and in your pussy every day for the rest of his life, but he didn’t say it out loud. he didn’t want to spook you.

you let out a choked noise at the sight of him watching you while he palmed his cock through his sweatpants. “i think i’m about to pass out,” you told him, sounding a little hysterical. “and johnny? i don’t even—”

simon cut you off, “get in here, mactavish!”

when johnny entered the room, you demanded for both of them to explain themselves. your man was fine with sharing you with simon. he’d mentioned it to simon the day he sent him the video of you with a dildo buried in your pussy. they were both fine with it, they just hadn’t gotten around to asking you yet. once you gave them both an earful, you let them know that you were willing to try. but before that could happen, simon just had to mention the other video.

“let me see it, johnny.”

you shot johnny a panicked look after hearing simon’s demand, because you know he’s gonna end up doing whatever simon tells him to do. he always did. fucking assholes. you almost bust your ass trying to scramble off the bed to get to johnny. you wanted to wipe the smugness off his face, when he pulled his phone out and tossed it to simon, much to your dismay. they ignored your protests as simon located johnny’s camera roll. you watched helplessly as he told simon which video it was.

digging that hole and burying yourself in it sounded like a great idea in that moment, as the sounds of your moans filled the room. you could hear how wet you had been that day. you were absolutely mortified by the way you whimpered and moaned simon’s name like it had been his fingers fucking you and not your own.

simon let out a low, “fuckin’ hell,” before he launched the phone onto the bed and yanked you into his arms, so he could kiss you senseless. when he pulled back to let you breathe again, he had a look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “naughty girl. how long have you been thinkin’ about me while you fuck yourself? weeks? months?”

“si–simon, wait,” you managed to stutter out breathlessly while you tried to get your brain working again. you weren’t even sure you could do that, with the way simon was scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin on your neck.

simon paid you no mind. he was starting to become impatient. he tossed you onto the bed, with a wicked grin on his lips, then buried his nose right into the fabric of the shorts covering your bare pussy. you inhaled sharply when his large warm hands started tugging your clothes off, leaving you bare, while you watched him step away from the bed to get undressed. his honey brown eyes watched the way you sat there, mesmerized at the sight of his cock, a soft whine spilling from your lips when he started lazily stroking himself.

johnny laughed softly at the expression on your face, before raising a brow at simon. “givin’ us a show, LT?”

simon shot him an amused look, “camera, johnny.”

johnny grabbed his phone off the bed, muttering something about getting the best angles, while simon began to work two thick digits in and out of your glistening pussy.

“f-fuck,” you whimpered when those talented fingers danced across your spongy walls and brushed up against your g-spot. it felt like you were being tortured with how slow simon was working you over. you swore he was doing that shit on purpose. “you can’t go any faster than that?”

you let out a strangled cry when simon pinched your clit. you hissed when he barked out a laugh at the sight of you trying to clamp your thighs shut around his hands. simon was a mean asshole, and so was johnny for sitting right next to you with his stupid phone in his hand and a grin on his face while he recorded you getting bullied. you hated them both.

“open up, princess,” simon cooed, before gripping his cock and dragging it up and down your slick folds, making you moan each time his tip brushed up against your sensitive bud. “so wet f’me.”

“simon, please.” you wanted him to stop fucking around and start stuffing his fat cock in your hole. you’d start begging if you had to.

you were about to let him have it, when he finally slid his cock into your sopping wet pussy with a drawn out moan. he pulled back out slowly, then bullied his cock back in, silently enjoying the way your back arched up off the bed as a broken moan spilled from that pretty mouth of yours.

“oh, god,” you choked out. you felt so full, stuffed to the brim. you stared up at simon with a slightly dazed look and begged him to move.

simon hooked one of you legs over his shoulder and wasted no time driving his cock in and out of your drooling pussy. he chuckled darkly when you wailed and clawed at his back. when you told him to move, you didn’t mean like this. he was tearing your shit up and all you could do was take it as you babbled incoherent words that neither johnny nor simon could understand. every gasp, every moan you let out, only motivated simon to fuck you harder. he wanted to see you fall apart. you were always so composed when he was around, but now he had your pussy around his cock and your nails leaving scratch marks on his back, while you sang to the heavens.

the delicious glide of simon’s cock against your spongy walls was enough to make you cry. you couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to your eyes as you held onto simon for dear life. you wanted him to smother you. you wanted him to ruin you. “please, please, please,” you sobbed with every smack of his hips against yours.

“ye okay, hen?” johnny’s voice was laced with concern, but his eyes were full of hunger. you looked so fucking good with simon’s cock in you. he let out a hiss when he pressed his free hand against the bulge in his basketball shorts. “fuck.”

“she’s fine, just a little needy thing,” simon bit out with a snap of his hips while he looked down at you, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the cries of pleasure you emitted. “look at you being a good girl f’me, lettin’ me fuck this sweet pussy of yours. just takin’ my cock like you were made for it.”

“i–i–oh!” you let out a cry when your pussy started spasming around simon’s cock, as your orgasm took you by surprise.

you let out a yelp when simon pinched your nipple and leveled you with a glare. “i don’t remember telling you to cum, princess,” he said rudely.

you couldn’t string up a decent reply to placate the man. it was his fault for fucking you so good. he continued wreaking havoc on your pussy while you were coming down from your high, which was slowly going back up as his cock struck your g-spot repeatedly. your gasps and moans were like music to johnny ears. he loved the way you looked getting your pussy stretched out by his best friend. what a beautiful sight it was, you in a pleasure induced haze, mind completely empty of thoughts while simon fucked you six ways to sunday.

johnny’s hand slipped into the waistband of his shorts so he could free his cock. he was so fucking hard he thought he would die if he didn’t cum. he wrapped his hand around his cock and started thrusting his hips, moaning softly at the sight of simon’s cock pistoning in and out of you. the fact that simon hadn’t cum in your pussy yet was crazy to him.

“look at what you’re doing to johnny,” simon crooned as he reached out to grab your chin and turn your head towards johnny, whose eyes were glazed over while he fisted his leaking cock.

the noise you let out when you realized johnny’s eyes were on you, was absolutely filthy. you almost lost your damn mind when simon reached between both of you and started rubbing at your puffy clit. the sheer pleasure of being fucked and having that sensitive bundle of nerves be caressed by simon’s thick fingers, had you teetering on the brink of insanity. simon had you right where he wanted you, teary eyed and cock-drunk while you let out whine after whine, as he continued his assault on your clit.

“want you to cum for me again. think you can be a good girl and give me another one?” simon let out a moan when you nodded frantically and started babbling about about being his good girl.

hearing you call yourself simon’s good girl, sent johnny into a frenzy, his moans bouncing off the walls as he fisted his cock in sync with with the way simon was pounding you into the mattress. the phone lay on the bed, forgotten, while johnny gave into his need to cum. “ah, shit….fuck.” he was so close.

simon, always aware of his surroundings, even while he’s fucking you into oblivion, barked out an order for johnny to stop. he wanted him to cum in your mouth, and had strict orders for you to keep johnny’s cum in your mouth.

johnny let out a whine, but snapped his mouth shut when simon gave him a sharp look and told him to hurry up. your lover took his time feeding cock down your throat, before he cradled your head in his heads and started thrusting. his eyes slipped shut as pure bliss took over his facial expression. you let out a warbled moan around johnny’s cock at the sight of him lost in his pleasure.

“gonna let us take what we need, lovie?” simon cooed as he rocked into you, moaning when your pussy nearly choked him to death. he’d slowed down a bit, wanting to savor the moment of you coming undone with their cocks in your wet holes.

with johnny stuffed in your mouth, you couldn’t speak. the best you could do, was let out a broken moan while you drooled around the fat cock in your mouth. you let both men play tug of war with your body, until you couldn’t take it anymore as waves of pleasure crashed into you while you came, almost violently to johnny praising you for being his sweet bonnie girl, and simon’s filthy muttering about filling you up with his cum until it starts to leak out of your ears.

simon’s the next one to cum. he’s moaning and groaning in your ear like a whore, like he’s the one getting fucked into the mattress. he’s too pussy drunk to even notice you writhing underneath him as you cry out around johnny’s cock. your pussy is starting to become overstimulated, making you wish simon would cum already. and then finally, his hips start to stutter while he fucked frantically into your sloppy hole. “fuck, i’m gonna—” a broken sob left his lips as his cum painted your walls.

when he was finally able to breathe again, simon presses a kiss to your temple then rolled off of you, so he could watch johnny fuck your throat. you looked so pretty with your lips wrapped around his cock. “ease up, johnny. let her work for a bit.”

when johnny’s grip on your head lessened, you rolled over onto your stomach and gripped his cock in your hand, pulling off with wet a sound, spitting on it, then swirling your tongue around the tip.

“steamin’ jesus!” johnny choked out, when you had him fully engulfed in your mouth once more, head bobbing up and down as you took him deep in your throat.

johnny’s soft little ah, ah, ah, ahs made you speed up your movements, as you twisted your fingers around his wet length and slurped at the bulbous head of his cock. you teased and edged him for a bit, before he started getting annoyed. you shot him a look of amusement when he slapped your hands away from his cock.

“ye wanna play, bonnie?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

you’d almost forgotten about the times when johnny’s mean streak would slip out during sex, and unfortunately for you, this was one of those times. you didn’t even fight it when he pried your mouth open and shoved his cock back down your throat. he fucked your throat so hard it brought tears to your eyes. johnny cooed at you when a sob broke through.

“ye can take it, hen. thas’ what yer mouth was made for.”

you whined, but took it nonetheless. it’s not like you could move anyway with simon curled around you. his roaming hands had found their way between your sticky thighs. you could still feel his cum leaking out of your aching pussy. “you close, johnny?” you heard him ask while his fingers delivered lazy strokes to your sensitive clit. johnny moaned out his reply, just as simon’s soft, “be a good boy and cum for us, johnny,” filled his ears.

johnny came with a cry, his hips snapping forward as thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock and into your mouth. he sank down on the bed with his eyes closed murmuring something about that being the best head of his life.

“open up, let me taste our boy.”

you did as you were told, moaning when simon turned your head to him and shoved his tongue in your cum-filled mouth and drank from you. the kiss was sloppy and johnny’s cum was dribbling down your chin, while simon licked every crevice of your mouth. when he saw how empty your mouth was, he spit it in, then pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes almost popped out of your head when he used his tongue to clean up stray drops of johnny’s cum from your chin. and you thought johnny was the only freak in your life.

simon was fucking nasty, and you loved it.

-

a/n: i will continue this eventually

[navybrat817]

Fall for Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he's good enough for you, but still wishes he could be your guy. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Longing, insecurities, "just friends" (for now), Steve is a good friend, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Friday Feels inspired by a nonnie.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was a special kind of torture for Bucky to watch the person he loved flirt with someone else.

To be fair, he couldn't say for sure that you were flirting. Being friendly? Yes. You had a warm and welcoming personality, the kind he was drawn to the moment you two crossed paths months ago. One of the things he loved about you was how genuine you were. It was only natural that you pulled others in as well. Your compassion, charm, beauty, everything called to him.

You were the whole package, inside and out.

“What the hell am I doing here?” He muttered. He hadn't wanted to go to the bar, but Steve assured him it was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place. Not a lot of patrons on a night like this. Somewhere no one would bother them. He added at the last second that you were going.

Bucky grabbed his leather jacket to go as soon as those words left Steve’s mouth.

Instead of having a drink with you like he wanted or just talking, he simmered in silence in a booth while you stood at the bar. He narrowed his eyes as the guy you were talking to moved an inch closer. A bit too close for his liking.

Steve said his name was Will. They had met each other at some point in passing. Short blonde hair and a trimmed beard. Ex-military, but still built like he had a war to fight. Behind the guy’s blue eyes lurked pain, guilt, and regret that most would miss due to his general stoic demeanor. Bucky could relate all too well to horrors that haunted even the strongest of men.

But when Will looked at you, his eyes lit up. They held a sense of longing. Hope.

Once again, Bucky could relate all too well because that was how he looked at you.

“You’re doing that staring thing again,” Steve said, grabbing a beer from the bucket and setting it down in front of him. “Just talk to her.”

Bucky took a swig, but didn't take his eyes off you. He was afraid if he looked away that Will might convince you to leave with him. “Talk to her about what?”

His best friend sighed. “You know what.”

Steve knew how he felt about you. Talking about his feelings wasn't easy, but he had to tell his best friend. And it wasn't the first time Steve encouraged him to speak up. He said you had the right to know so the two of you could figure out how to move forward, whether as a couple or just friends, instead of dancing around it.

But how could Bucky admit how he felt when he didn't deserve someone like you?

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

“We're friends,” Bucky stated. The words tasted as bitter as the beer he sipped. No, not bitter. He couldn't feel that way just because he had a piece of you when he wanted all of you.

Was he selfish for that?

He nearly shattered the bottle in his hand when you giggled at whatever Will said. Something akin to jealousy settled in his chest and he had no right to feel that way. The two of you weren't together. You were single and didn't owe him a thing.

But he knows if you gave him a chance, he’d treat you well. Better than any other guy before him. He would do his best to make you happy. Maybe that wasn't enough.

“Will is a good guy, but he isn't you, Buck. You’re still one of the best guys I know,” Steve said.

“You don't have to kiss my ass, punk,” he muttered, immediately regretting it. He was only trying to help and God knows he had done more than enough for him over the years.

Steve shook his head. “And you don't have to feel sorry for yourself, jerk.”

“I’m not,” he whispered. Maybe he was. He was sorry for so many things.

As if you sensed his sadness, you looked over your shoulder and met his gaze. You smiled at him, the kind of smile that stole the very breath from his lungs and made his head spin. He wanted to believe it was a smile you reserved only for him. And the softness in your beautiful eyes, he imagined he could see his future in them.

Could you see the endless love he had for you in his?

His heart ached when you turned away and put your hand on Will’s arm. Of course, you were attracted to the guy. Why wouldn’t you be? The thought of you kissing him though, being intimate with him? He felt sick enough to finally look away.

Bucky glanced at his distorted reflection in the beer bottle. A long time ago, he would've called himself handsome. Not because he was full of himself, but because he knew himself then. He knew how to walk the line between confidence and cockiness. He was full of life and wonder once. Now the weight of his sins showed in how he carried himself.

Sins you never judged him for.

“Jamie? Are you okay?”

Steve nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was so lost in his mind that he hadn’t heard you call out to him. He should’ve known since you were the only one who called him Jamie. When he looked up from his seat, he saw that you were no longer standing next to Will as he was still at the bar. And there was nothing but concern in your gaze as you set your drink down on the table.

“What? What happened?” He asked, not smooth at all.

Your eyes flickered to Steve and then back at him. “I asked if you’re okay. You don’t look too well.”

“Not feeling so great,” he said, which wasn’t a lie. “This place…”

“Oh,” you said, sliding into the booth beside him. He inhaled, your sweet scent soothing the pain in his heart and making it race all at once. “Well, why don’t we head out? There’s no reason to stay if you don’t want to stay.”

He gently smiled. You were always willing to go with the flow and change plans if things ever got too loud or too much for him. “I’m fine. Besides, you just got your drink and you haven’t had a chance to play pool with Sam or Natasha,” he argued. He didn’t want to spoil your night.

You put your hand on his arm, but it seemed different than when you touched Will’s arm. This was tender, soothing. “If being here is making you uncomfortable, then I don’t feel like sticking around. They’ll understand. Steve, please, back me up on this.”

“She’s right. You two should go,” Steve said, conveniently leaving himself and the others out of the equation.

Bucky spared Will a glance, who was now talking to the guys he went into the bar with. He swallowed hard before the next words left his mouth. “What about your new friend?”

“You are my friend, Jamie,” you said. He winced inwardly at the reminder. Friends. You were just friends. “Don’t worry about him. Let’s just go. How about a movie at your place? Something low-key so you feel better.”

“You sure?” He asked, wondering just how eager he looked to leave with you.

“I’m sure,” you smiled, making his heart warm again.

“Okay. You convinced me,” he said. Not that it would’ve taken much. Your smile could bend the will of just about anyone.

“You know, I hear healthy conversations are also good to help people feel better,” Steve chimed in, earning an elbow to the side from Bucky.

You raised an eyebrow and slid out of the booth. “Yeah. Sure. Jamie and I can have a healthy conversation and you all enjoy the rest of the night.” You offered Bucky a hand to help him out. He didn’t want to let go. “C’mon. We have a movie waiting for us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky teased, proud of himself when you giggled.

Steve gave him an optimistic smile and he couldn’t help but return it. He wasn’t sure if Will had given you his number or if you planned to see him, but maybe he’d take a chance and tell you he had fallen for you. Maybe, if he was lucky, you had fallen for him, too.

Just maybe.

And maybe, just maybe, this could be a thing? Did Will give you his number? Will Bucky say how he feels? What's going to happen? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[evie-sturns]

enough - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where matt builds up an attitude, you're quick to remind him who's in charge.

contains: sub!matt, mattitude, smut, teasing, fluff.

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

matt and i have been dating for over a year, hes always had a cute attitude, but today he's been pushing it.

from the several bratty comments he's made, to ignoring me completely, it's starting to get on my nerves.

"matt! dinner!" i call out, serving up the dinner i've just made for him and i.

he walks into the kitchen, his head tilted down at his phone, not even acknowledging me.

i hand him his plate, "thanks." he mumbles vaguely before walking over to the dining table.

i walk over to the table and pull out my chair, flopping down opposite him.

his eyes are trained on his phone as he digs his fork into the meal,

"i was hoping to have a real conversation with you matthew." i state blankly, matt places his phone down on the wooden table at looks up at me with a sigh.

"happy now?" he asks sarcastically, i shoot him a warning look before replying,

"was your day okay?" i ask softly, "you were with me the whole day, i'm pretty sure you know everything i did." he replies back in a 'know it all' tone.

i stand up out of my chair abruptly, the chair screeching loudly again the floor.

matt looks up at me, i walk over to him and grab his wrist, tugging him up out of his chair.

"ow" he mutters, i drag him out of the kitchen into the corridor.

"built up a big fucking attitude haven't you?" i say, pulling matt into bedroom.

"no?" he replies with a shrug, i push him down onto the mattress.

matt's hair flops on his forehead as he hits the bed, he looks up at me with a small pout.

i crawl ontop of him, sitting comfortably on his thighs as i look down at matt.

"take your jeans off." i demand,

"my belt is really hard to get off though.." he says,

"do you think i care? take. your. fucking. jeans. off."

matt nods, fiddling with his belt buckle before sliding it out of his jeans loops.

i crawl off his thighs to allow him to shimmy his jeans down his legs, leaving him in his tight boxers.

i sit back down on his lap, my clothed crotch pressing against his clear bulge.

"please- hurry up-" he whispers underneath me, i let out a surprised scoff.

"excuse you?" i say, grabbing his chin and making him look up at me.

"keep your mouth shut, if i hear one more noise from you, you wont be cumming tonight." i state, matt nods with an eye roll.

i remove my shirt over my head, my tits spilling out in his face.

he reaches up a shy hand, but i grab his wrist and pin it down onto the bed. "did i tell you that you could touch me?" i ask, staring into matts squinted eyes.

he shakes his head, i nod "so dont touch me yet."

i pull off my shorts and panties in one go, matt stares obviously. his arm shifts impatiently. "keep your arms by your sides." i raise my voice.

matt pins his arms to the matress, squirming under me impatiently.

i tug down his boxers, letting his throbbing erection spring out. he scoots back with me ontop of him. his back now rests against the headboard.

i shift comfortably on his thighs before dragging my nails down the sides of his waists. his abs tense as his eyes flutter shuts.

i drag my nails over his bellybutton and tummy, he keeps his hands directly by his sides obediantly.

i can see his cheeks flushing red, discomfort is clear on his face. "are you okay baby? you hurting?" i say with faux sympathy, he nods frantically with a small pout.

"maybe if you hadn't have built up such a big attitude you would already be inside me, hm?" i tease,

"fuck- 'm so sorry-" matt lets out a small whine,

i caress his face, "must be so sore." i grin, take his length in my hand. i dont stroke him, i just keep my hand firmly around his dick.

he bucks his hips up, his tip hitting my stomach. i remove my hand from his length with a small shake of my head.

"i need you- so bad- please.." matt rambles, "ill do anything- pleasepleaspleaseplease-"

i let out a small laugh, "god you're desperate aren't you?"

he nods with a small sniff. i flutter my fingers over his v-line, matt almost winces as i avoid his dick so obviously, my fingers tracing over all of his skin on his stomach and pelvis.

tears well in his eyes, "hurts- so bad" he squeezes out,

"poor things." i sigh, cupping his face with my hand and rubbing his jawline.

"what- what do i have to do?" he asks frantically,

"drop the attitude, thats what you have to do." i state, he nods,

"i'll never- never have attitude again i promise- please." matt breathes

i smile, "good boy."

"oh you're killing me-" matts voice breaks, i decide hes had enough.

"you're so cute." i laugh softly, taking matts cock in my hand again and brushing my thumb over the tip.

i hover up above his dick, running his tip through my fold.

his breathing picks up, his stomach rising and falling dramatically.

i finally sink down on him, he lets out a loud whimper before clamping a hand over his mouth.

"dont be embarrassed, that was hot-" i breathe with a smile, taking his hand away from his mouth

i finally bottom out, sitting comfortably on his dick as i attempt to adjust to his size. the stretch always burns, theres no time that its never happened.

he lets out a loud sigh, his head flopping back as i slowly start to bounce on his length.

"fuck-" i moan lightly, his tip consistently hitting my cervix.

"ohmygod-" matt groans, his voice husky.

"you're doing so good- so good-" i tell matt, letting my head fall forward onto his shoulder, my chin resting against his bony collarbone.

"thank you-" matt stammers, arching his back off the matress.

i call feel his dick twitching inside of me, hes already close,

"close already-" i exhale sharply, "i'm so sorry- can i cum- please" he rambles again

i feel the knot in my stomach tightening, "wait-" i warn him, chasing my own orgasm. his tip repeatedly brushing against my g-spot

"oh my god-!" i squeal, clenching around matt. i feel my stomach drop as i release all over matts dick,

"can i-?" he asks quickly, i nod with the little energy that i have left.

he paints my insides with white, i stay seated on his length, completely exhausted.

he wraps his arms around me as i bury my head in his shoulder.

silence fills the room, but matt and i's desperate breathes break it.

he pants heavily into my ear, i finally pull my head out of his shoulder to look at him, his cheeks flushed a deep red and his chest rising and falling.

"i'm sorry about earlier- with the attitude-" matt breathes, i let out a small laugh

"i hope you know, i love your attitude so much." i smile, matt lets out a small laugh before rolling his eyes.

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@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s@ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonly @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

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[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the fifteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fifteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fifteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

[babyyhoneyyy]

I wanna kiss your neck H.S (pt.3)

He didn’t let up on the kisses, not when her hands held the side of his neck, not when he stroked her cheeks. “And you know I love you so, so much, right?”

”Uh-huh.”

She wasn’t able to get any more words in since he was kissing her so eagerly, and Y/N had to tug him from his hair as her head finally cleared. “You really fucking hurt me, Harry. I feel— felt so used.” Harry’s eyebrows came together downturned, like he was so saddened by her confession. Y/N almost thought he would cry when he swooped his thumbs under her eyes.

“I know, and I’m so sorry, baby,” he said softly, “let me make it up to you? I feel terrible.”

Or,

Part 3 to the one where Y/N and Harry are best friends, but they’ve crossed a big, fat line that says otherwise.

part 1

part 2

word count: 5k+

content warning: mature!! minors please dni!!

Harry called Y/N the next day like everything was normal. Like her entire sense of self-respect wasn’t torn into pieces. Like he didn't rip her heart from her throat and laughed tauntingly at the weak, pulsing muscle. She was dumbfounded on the other end of the phone, trying to keep her composure so she didn’t burst into tears.

In direct contrast to her, he was chirpy and enthusiastic, asking her if they could meet at her house to try out the new cafe they had been eyeing for the past month or so. Of course, Y/N lied and told him she was unwell. The fact of the matter was that she was perfectly fine— still walking, talking, eating and breathing like normal.

Except there was this hole in her chest, gaping and wounded, frayed at the edges which ached every waking second of the day. She hadn’t been able to think straight ever since Harry left her cold and freshly-fucked in her apartment the night before.

After his departure, she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed her body in the shower until it was red and raw; even then it was like she could feel his lingering touches and wet kisses against her skin. The thought of them disgusted her to no end. All she could see in the mirror were the bruises he left behind, the ones she wore on her neck, her hips. Blossoms on her skin that did nothing but remind her of how used she felt.

So she avoided her reflection and went about her day with her head low, afraid to catch a glimpse of herself in any reflective surface in her home. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that her Harry wouldn’t do such a thing, the image of the pretty brunette and Harry’s kiss against her temple flashed in front of her eyes and rendered her hopeless.

There weren’t a lot of people with whom one would take such an intimate photo with. Maybe with a mother, a sister, a cousin, a best friend.

But she knew the girl wasn’t any of those, and a terrible prickly possibility contaminated Y/N’s clouded mind; what if it was a lover?

A lover of whom she had no idea. A lover of whom her best friend never bothered to tell her of. A lover whom he lied about.

A lover whom he probably went home to right after fucking her.

For two weeks Y/N let her exhausted brain work itself to a number of conclusions— overthinking and overthinking and overthinking. A grey cloud loomed over her head wherever she went, covered head-to-toe in the most modest of sweaters and thickest of scarves to cover her story-telling skin. She felt terrible, a weight settling on her chest which consisted not only of his lies and deceit, but of the gnawing reminder that she really fucking loved him.

Harry was her best friend; the boy she grew up with, the one she shared all her secrets with, the one who knew of all her firsts, the one who was loved by all of her family, the one who she spent every birthday and every Christmas with. She could dislike him and she could be mad at him, but she could never hate him.

That’s why when he showed up at her door the following Saturday evening, she took a deep breath, threw away all the tear-stained tissues that littered her coffee table and let him in. A hundred red flags and alarms blared in her head telling her that anything would be better than confronting him right now, but she ignored them all because there was a part of her that yearned to be with him. To talk to him and confide in him.

She was already ignoring all of his texts and letting his calls go to voicemail. All she told him was that she wasn’t feeling well and whatever she had was contagious. Just staring at his words on her screen was enough to have her gut wrenching; texts like are you feeling better? and i miss you when can we hang out again littered their chats, unanswered.

Somehow seeing him appear at her doorstep after so long was a million times worse— he had a frown on his face and his hair was pulled back in a bun. He was dressed in basic grey sweats and a black top and he didn’t bother saying anything as he strolled right into her home with his lip pinched between his fingers. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She was well-aware of her tattered state and his question threw her right into another tizzy. Y/N was tired and overwhelmed from all the crying, a palm coming up to rub her forehead in distraught, “I told you I don’t feel well.”

“Well, you’re lying. I asked Em and she told me you’ve been at work this week, so you’re obviously mad at me or something.” He sounded angry, staring at her intently with his other hand on his hip, “why are you avoiding me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were like fire, seeping into her skin and burning her flesh as he expected an answer from her dishevelled state.

Y/N went to sit on the sofa and cupped her hand over the seam of her hairline. Her skull ached and she needed to find a way to cover her face which would inevitably be covered in sticky tears really soon if the conversation headed where she thought it was headed.

A second passed while she mulled over the question in her head and finally decided to rip the band-aid off in one go. “I want you to be honest with me, Harry.”

The soft tone of her voice caught him off guard as he watched her from the other side of the table, “‘course I’ll be honest, just tell me why you’re not talking to me.” When she looked up at him, her eyes were glistening, “last weekend, when you… when we…” she hoped he would understand what she meant without her having to verbalise the now tainted memory, “um. After that when you got that phone call… it wasn’t Niall, was it?”

Her words were heavy and they suffocated her. Just the fact that she let them past her tongue was enough to have her heart racing, bracing herself for a response. She tried to make eye-contact with him, but the slight downturn of his lips and rounding of his eyes told her all she had to know.

“What… what do you mean?”

“What I mean is you fucked me, Harry, lied to me and left me on that couch to go fuck your girlfriend right after.” Her cheeks became hot with anger as she watched his expression twist into something of confusion, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You lied about the phone call. It wasn’t Niall, it was some girl called Chelsea, who clearly needed you so fucking urgently—“

“—You don’t know what you’re saying—“

“—that you had to leave your best friend, who you just had sex with—“

“—stop it, you’re wrong, you don’t know what you’re saying—“

“—to go and fuck fucking Chelsea—“

“—Stop it, Y/N!”

Y/N fell silent. Scalding tears brimmed in her eyes and his loud baritone echoed in her head over and over and over again. She was practically vibrating with anger. His chest heaved as he took in her wet pupils.

“I didn’t fuck her— shit, I don’t have a fucking girlfriend. How could you… how could you even think I would do something like that? Do you really think that low of me?”

There was this sort of pleading in his voice. A desperation when he saw her parted lips and leaky sockets. The sight of her made his shoulders slump and eyebrows relax. Y/N pressed her lips together, watching him get on his knees before her so they were eye-level. Harry took her trembling hands in his.

“But you… the picture on your phone. You were kissing her.”

“Sweetheart, she’s not my girlfriend. Just some girl Niall set me up with a couple months back, we saw each other for a week before I broke it off. It was nothing special so I didn’t waste my time with you talking about her,” he explained against the skin of her knuckles. A kiss was pressed to the first boney globe of her index finger.

The cogs in Y/N’s mind twisted and turned as she tried to put the pieces together, still wary of his words; but he sounded sincere and honest, and Y/N was a firm believer in letting someone have the benefit of the doubt if the situation called for it.

“We took that picture ages ago. Way before you and I fell into this arrangement. She wouldn’t stop calling me even though I told her I wasn’t interested. I promise that’s all it is.”

Now, Y/N was a fool for Harry.

So when he dropped her hands and instead cradled her face, a very familiar moony look came over her glossy eyes. She felt herself slipping into that mindset again— the one where she was a puppy with a wagging tail for Harry. Where she wanted to believe whatever he told her. Where he was able to mould and bend her however he wanted, like she was a piece of clay and his hands were covered in glaze.

”You trust me, don’t you?”

They were a sinful collection of words designed to make her melt in the palm of his hand; a fruit of manipulation which she happily sunk her teeth into. It was what made her lean into his affections so easily.

He kissed her damp cheek. Her forehead. Then her eyes. Then her nose. Her jaw. Her chin.

Her lips.

It was the first time they ever kissed, painted in warm, salty tears and promises mumbled against worried skin. She sighed in defeat.

“Tell me you trust me.”

Another kiss to her smushed mouth, “tell me, Y/N,” he mumbled, “you believe me don’t you? I love you so much, you’re my best friend.”

a breath escaped her mouth amidst his soft assault, “yes,” she managed to whisper, “yes, mm—“

He didn’t let up on the kisses, not when her hands held the side of his neck, not when he stroked her cheeks. “And you know I love you so, so much, right?”

”Uh-huh.”

She wasn’t able to get any more words in since he was kissing her so eagerly, and Y/N had to tug him from his hair as her head finally cleared. “You really fucking hurt me, Harry. I feel— felt so used.” Harry’s eyebrows came together downturned, like he was so saddened by her confession. Y/N almost thought he would cry when he swooped his thumbs under her eyes.

“I know, and I’m so sorry, baby,” he said softly, “let me make it up to you? I feel terrible.”

Y/N froze at his words, feeling a little hesitant; all she had been thinking about the past week was the picture of that girl and the lie Harry made up so easily. Her mind had mulled over so many possibilities, and she hadn’t anticipated his explanation in any one of her conclusions. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him and still thought he was lying, it was just that the wound he left in her heart was going to take more than a few kisses to heal.

Of course his explanation helped her feel a little more sane, but there was a part of her that told her she shouldn’t let him go so easily— that she should dig deeper and ask more questions: why did he have to leave so urgently after the phone call? Why didn’t he just block the girl’s number if she was being annoying?

But then Harry slid his hand along her jaw and looked at her with his sorrowful eyes… his apology did sound sincere… surely she could forgive him and move on. She just didn’t want her questions to make matters worse; she didn’t want her best friend to think she didn’t trust him, but on the other hand she also valued her own self respect.

It was hard when he was staring at her with his lip between his teeth, begging her to let him make it up to her. It couldn’t hurt to let him, Y/N thought. Maybe it would be good for her. She could go for a couple of hours where she didn’t have to think about anything and could just feel.

Despite her brain telling her she was being irrational and stupid, falling for his sugar-coated words like a fool, her heart wanted to feel safe, and she felt most safe when she was with him.

Maybe that was why she nodded wordlessly and let him kiss her again, before pulling her off the sofa and guiding her to her room. He didn’t let her get too far from him, making sure every inch of her was pressed against every inch of him constantly. Harry had one arm around her waist and one holding her face to angle it up to him, “missed my baby so much,” he mumbled between kisses, “couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N sighed. Her arms slithered around his neck.

“M’sorry, Berry.” His kisses progressed down her jaw and her neck, where Harry took his time suckling at her (his) favorite spots and soothing them over with his tongue.

“M’sorry,” he nuzzled into her throat, “m’so sorry, my love.” The hand on her waist fell to her hip and Harry nudged her in the direction of the bed. He let her settle amongst her mound of pillows and stuffed animals and parted her thighs so he could fit between them. It felt so nice to have him close to her again; just his warmth and weight made Y/N feel at ease— something she struggled with the past fortnight.

His touch travelled down her neck, tracing the skin of her collarbones. He looped circles around the soft skin before coming back up to cup her jaw. His eyes never left hers and Y/N watched as he slowly leaned closer to kiss a line from the sensitive curve of her neck to her mouth.

This kiss was much different than the first. Y/N could practically taste the desperation on his tongue as he stroked it along with hers. She was whimpering against his mouth, especially when he pecked her once, twice, and then dug his teeth into her bottom lip.

“I missed this pretty little pussy,” he whispered. Y/N didn’t know when he sneakily brought his hand down to cup her where she was dripping over the fabric, but the contact was electrifying. His fingers pressed deliciously against her clit and he began grinding his hand against her slowly. “Missed tasting her… fucking her.”

He crawled further down her body and withdrew his touch from her cunt, instead focused on getting her top off. Y/N wasn’t wearing a bra so her tits were immediately bare, which did wonders for Harry as he groaned loudly, “fuck,” he cupped both of them, “need you so bad, baby.” He smushed a kiss against the swell of her right breast.

“You have me.” Y/N was barely able to get the words out of her mouth, lost in the sensation of his lips wrapping around her nipple. He suckled and kissed it, flicked his tongue against the bud and grazed his teeth against it all while his other hand slipped up to Y/N’s lips to press two fingers against her tongue. She was gasping and whining against his skin, biting down hard on his two knuckles when Harry began humming against her. The vibrations went all the way down to her heat, making her all the more wetter.

“You’re so fucking sensitive,” Harry said as he let go of her nipple. It was spit-slicked and pebbled. “I bet I could make y’come just by playing with these.” He knew how much his words affected her, and he knew how much she liked it when he gave both her breasts a squeeze. “Y’like it when I suck on them?”

He took his fingers from her mouth to draw lines along the seam of her bottom lip. She met his gaze again, “mhmm. It’s so good, H.” It was hard to finish her sentence, because halfway through it Harry lost patience and kissed her open mouth instead. Her chin was a bit wet because of the way she was sucking on his fingers, but Harry didn’t mind. If anything, he sort of preferred it that way— a little bit messy.

Another suckle to her bottom lip (he really couldn’t get enough), and he left to tend to the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. They were easy to get rid of, her pink underwear following. Harry didn’t waste a beat in parting her thighs wide and staring down at her leaky pussy, “you’re so beautiful, Ber.” He kissed her right knee, then her thigh. She was completely at his mercy before him; naked and needy. She was so wet she could feel it dripping down to the sheets.

A careful finger came to collect her arousal and push it right back inside of her. There was no resistance since she was so hot for him, so when Harry curled his finger against her g-spot, her back arched off the bed and she moaned loudly. His other hand rested on her mound, his thumb just above her clit, but not touching it. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing her and not giving any attention to the bundle of nerves.

His thumb pressed into the skin there, tauntingly. “Harry,” Y/N whined, “touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He reasoned as he twisted his finger inside of her. Another joined it shortly. “No, you’re not,” she retorted. Her train of thought was lost as he sped up his thrusts. The tips of his fingers stimulated her g-spot perfectly. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from how she was just swallowing him up, snug and warm around him. He was doing everything which pushed Y/N to the edge apart from giving attention to her throbbing clit.

Y/N gasped when he barely grazed his thumb over the bud, “I thought you were making it up to me!”

Desperation was heavy in her voice and she raised her hips to chase his touch. Harry giggled, “I’m sorry, baby. You’re right,” he kissed her inner thigh.

Finally his thumb moved to her clit and he looped a big circle around it, making Y/N cry out loud. If he kept this up for a few more seconds, Y/N would come around him in no time.

Her thighs pressed tightly against his shoulders, trying to shut amidst the blinding pleasure, though Harry didn’t let her take his treat away. He also didn’t let up on his fingers, pushing and curling and circling until she was lifting off the bed and throwing her head back. The first orgasm of the night was phenomenal as Harry rid her through it, “tha’s it. You look so gorgeous when you come, Berry.”

He pulled his fingers out, drenched and dripping down to his knuckles. Harry wasn’t shy in the way he looked right into Y/N’s eyes and licked his digits. Her eyes widened when he groaned and came up to be face-level with her, and held her jaw tightly. He forced her mouth open and let a line of his spit mixed with her arousal fall onto her tongue.

It was filthy as he proceeded to lather the spit in with his thumb and it was filthy when he cooed at her, “swallow.”

Y/N was always eager to please him, so it wasn’t a surprise when she obediently followed his every command. Harry smiled at her sickly, “good girl,” he praised, “such a dirty little thing.” His hand slipped down to her throat, “but s’just for me, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes— only you,” Y/N agreed, and she was rewarded with a hot, wet kiss to her lips. If kissing him felt this good every time, Y/N cursed herself for not trying this out earlier. He was skillful with his tongue, heavily stroking it with hers and moaning against her open mouth. They parted with a loud smack, and Harry got off of her to quickly undress.

Y/N watched hungrily as he tugged his shirt off and stepped out of his pants. His cock was revealed to her, angry and leaking at the tip. He hissed, wrapping a hand around it and tugging slowly. “Fuck me, please,” Y/N begged. She was practically drooling at the sight of him, all toned and 6 feet of him, tall and towering over her. He smirked cockily and climbed over her again, “s’okay, baby, don’t have to ask,” he tsked, “gonna let daddy fuck this needy pussy?”

His words almost made Y/N come on the spot. She moaned out loud and wrapped her arms around his neck, “yes, please.” The honorific did unimaginable things for her and Harry must have sensed it when she began trying to lift her hips and fuck down onto his dick, “I take it you like that, then?” he giggled, giving into her desperation and rubbing her clit with his tip, “mm. S’so good.”

Y/N didn’t even notice when he put a condom on, lost in the feeling of him running one hand across her chest and up her arm, linking their fingers together. He interlocked them and brought their joined hands above her head, holding them there and pushing into her at the same time. Her other hand tightened in his hair, and Harry moaned all deep into her ear. The sound travelled straight down to her pussy, which squelched with each slow, deep thrust he delivered.

His pace was delicious— pressing into all her favourite spots and barely kissing her cervix as he came down to the corner of her mouth and nipped her chin. “So good, Berry, always so good for me,” he said. Her fingers tightened against his. She was arching off of the bed and pressing her tits against his firm chest when he rucked into her, making her push up on the bed, “so good for daddy.” Y/N cried out loud.

A couple more minutes passed of him fucking her like that— skin right against skin, deep, and stimulating her g-spot perfectly. She was already sensitive from her first orgasm, so when he brought his free hand down to her clit and rubbed it through the wetness seeping out of her, she found herself coming around his cock a second time. This orgasm was more intense, and she felt like she would snap in half with the way he had her arching in pleasure, “look at you,” he hummed, “such an angel.”

“Please, please, please, daddy, fuc—“

She was babbling and mumbling, fucked out of her mind when Harry pulled out to reposition the two. He let go of her hand and flipped her over so that she was on her tummy. A sharp smack resounded in the room when he slapped her ass. He kneaded it as it jiggled and pushed into her again, “you’re going to come one more time for me.”

It was a demand that he expected to be fulfilled, forgetting the slow pace he set earlier and now fucking her harder and faster. Y/N felt like she would become a part of the mattress with how forcefully his thrusts moulded her to the bed. He slapped her right cheek, then her left one twice. His other hand travelled up the dip in her back and wrapped around her throat from behind.

The sounds he was making were only making the experience that much better; Y/N squeezed around him whenever he let out a particularly harsh or whiney moan.

His thrusts speedened, signalling he was close to coming, punching into her g-spot with every thrust. Y/N’s eyes struggled to stay open, “please don’t stop, daddy, please,” she begged shamelessly. Harry had a way of reducing her into nothing but a begging mess for him, and somehow Y/N was into it. Her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth dropped open as she slipped her own hand down and circled her clit.

Harry whimpered at the sight. “G’na come, I’m gonna come,” she warned him.

The way she squeezed him was enough of a sign to let him know she was seconds from falling apart, “come for me, baby, come all over daddy’s cock. Pussy squeezes me so fucking good, such a good little slut, all for me—“

Praise upon praise tumbled from his bitten mouth as she came for the third time. Y/N was screaming and pulsing uncontrollably around him, and the sensation was enough to make Harry spill into his condom. He threw his head back and gripped her ass, mumbling her name over and over again.

It was like the orgasm was never ending, elongated with the way Harry continued fucking her until she had tears streaming down her cheeks. He took that as his queue to pull out and Y/N shut her thighs, letting Harry flip her over onto her back. Her chest was heaving and her hair was a mess, but he didn’t mind. He pushed some strands back with his clean hand and petted her forehead, then smoothed over her brows and kissed her eyelid, “y’okay, Berry?”

“Mm. You?” Harry giggled, “I’m great,” he kissed her swollen bottom lip. Y/N sighed against his mouth. She didn’t want him to leave her just yet, but then remembered that they were both covered in various juices and fluids and pulled him away with a grip in his hair. “Go get a towel,” she demanded. Harry rolled his eyes playfully, “so bossy. I should be calling you daddy,” he mumbled.

He got off the bed and took off the condom, tied it and disposed of it in the bin before tugging on his sweats. When he left to go get a towel, Y/N was left with an odd sense of deja-vu.

She hoped this time she wasn’t left cold and alone with a bleeding heart and weepy eyes after Harry fucked her. All she wanted was to enjoy this moment of bliss; she didn’t want to think about how things went south this time of the night just two weeks ago.

He came back after a bit and whistled a familiar tune as he wiped her thighs and between her legs. Y/N didn’t notice when he tossed a shirt and underwear her way, but she was grateful for the gesture and put on the garments. Once they were both clean and dressed, Harry dropped next to her on the bed and pulled Y/N to his chest.

He kissed her forehead, “I hope you can forgive me, Ber. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you,” he said. Y/N hummed and traced the swallows on his chest.

“Why did you leave right after the call?” She asked. She didn’t know why she felt scared as she did— she had no reason to be afraid. In fact, she had every right to be asking these questions. Harry owed these answers to her. A part of her was just scared of any outcome that would result in her breaking off her friendship with Harry, so she tried her best to tread carefully.

He snorted, “because, right after I told her off for calling me and blocking her, I actually did get a call from Niall,” he explained, lazily threading his fingers through her hair, “that fucker left the oven on and went to get his dick wet so I had to hurry back to the apartment. Think I broke about thirty traffic laws.”

She laughed at his words and tilted her head up so she looked into his eyes but he was already looking down at her, a soft smile on his pink lips. “I… I’m sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t do something like that. I made you feel like I didn’t trust you.”

“Shh. None of that. Not your fault I was a dick and left you on the couch right after having sex with you,” he retorted. He kissed her hairline again, “don’t have to apologise for a thing.” Y/N nuzzled into his chest, “Uh-oh. That's a big out you're giving me right now. I might abuse it.”

“I don’t mind.”

Her face felt warm against his cool skin and Harry brought a hand down to pinch her cheek, “you’re so cute.” She smacked his chest playfully to which he laughed and brought her leg up over his hip.

A feeling fizzled in her heart— one which bloomed in her chest and wrapped its tendrils around her lungs. It was like a warm hug on a cold day; comforting. Something akin to fondness… except it felt like more. Y/N felt scared as it tainted her, unable to put her finger on it when it was literally right there.

She was afraid to admit it; to say the word that might put a label on the warmth that sprouted inside of her. She was scared because it was foreign. Forbidden. Something she never allowed herself to explore, especially when it came to Harry.

She wouldn’t say it and she wouldn’t think it. The only solution she saw was to lock it into a box and tuck it deep into an alcove in her conscience, wary of it like a ticking bomb that would blow if she spent too much time with it. Y/N ignored the butterflies in her tummy and the heavy feeling in her chest and shifted closer to Harry’s side. He hummed quietly as he caressed her upper arm.

Y/N knew she had to ignore her heart for the sake of their friendship. The last thing she ever wanted was to lose her best friend over some silly feelings she might have.

It was this thought that kept her awake for a good part of that night, shifting restlessly in Harry’s arms. For the first time she found herself questioning her decision to take such a big step with him. All the risks it came with suddenly taunted her, and Y/N prayed to some mighty deity that her actions didn’t translate into stupidity, and she didn’t just set fire to her most treasured friendship.

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @theotherwomannnn @babegoalsreads @harryslounge @angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf

@vashapnin @in-omn1a-paratus @youngpastafanmug @cohnfusedarling @mema10

IWKYN taglist: @pinkphillia @gurugirl @madstyles3204 @stylesxreads @behindmygreyeyes

HIII ITS HEREEEE I HOPE YOU LIKE ITT!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK I LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS!! I THINK THERE MIGHT BE MAYBE ONE OR TWO MORE PARTS TO THIS ONE HEHEH LOVE YOU SOO MUCHHH!!!! LIKE REBLOG REPLY YADA YADA KISS KISS GOODNIGHT BABY LOVES!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — it was all yellow | carlos sainz

Description: After finding Carlos in bed with an internet starlet, you decided to break up with him. 5 years later, you meet him again.

Pairing: actress/singer!reader/carlos sainz

Trope: Secret Baby Trope

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: I got so many requests for this typa trope and I only got the idea now. Super sorry for the 6 month delay WAHHAHA.

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yn.ln: the vibe that we bring to the function. btw 💚 HOTDS2 is out!

liked by danielricciardo and 71,923 others

>comments

danielricciardo: Helaena Targaryen >>> - edited: Helaena Targaryen <<<

echibano82: MAN!! 😭

ynforever: the rise and fall of a midwest princess is my fav album of urs

formula.unoworld: sainz fumbled a baddie

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because.official: Carlos and Pinon 😘❤️ #MyHeart

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,293 others

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foreveryoung78: Wake up Carlos the fatherhood allegations are strong today

solonglondon: U ever heard of a boy named Pablo Sainz? 😳

bestfriendsfw: miss Because...go and tell ur mans - landofanbase: HER NAME ALWAYS TAKES ME OUT 😭 WHY IS HER STAGE NAME "BECAUSE"

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WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GIRLFRIEND? BECAUSE...

Brezziana Aziza, whose stage name is Because has gained fame because of her relationship with Formula One Driver Carlos Sainz Jr. Previously known on social media as an influencer who vlogs about her daily life, netizens began to call her "Because" well because of her excessive use of that word.

Although she has stopped using that word since, the name has stuck. She is currently under fire for visiting a Shein Factory in China. For more details please click this link: Shein sent American influencers to China.

>comments

becauseunitedfanbase: she's so funny n quirky i get it why carlos loves her

breatheinlouder: if pablo does belong to sainz, brezziana broke a family up - corduroy8chan: the family broke because sainz allowed it to be broken, she's homewrecker because...? - becauseunitedfanbase: more like home renovator

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Just an Inchident (Charles L., Max V., Lando N., Carlos S.)

Carlos Sainz holy shit guys did you see twitter

Charles Leclerc Yeah man Is it real?

Lando Norris i did some research and this kid's 6-4 yrs old there's a chance mates

Carlos Sainz how am i even supposed to ask her? it was so awkward when it ended i totally regret doing that to her but im so happy with because now

Charles Leclerc There's a fat chance that the kid is yours man

Lando Norris ask her like a civilized man dude i saw a reel where someone asked her if pablos yours

Max Verstappen Who uses reels mate? 🤣 2 reacted 🤣

Lando Norris well she avoided the question silence means yes if you aren't the father she'd answer it

Carlos Sainz maybe she wants to torture me

Charles Leclerc She's a good person man I don't think that she'll do that Plus she's above using her son for leverage

Carlos Sainz and how do you know that Charles? we haven't spoken to her in years

Max Verstappen She grabs coffee with Victoria on Tuesdays I've actually known about Pablo for a while now

Carlos Sainz 👍🏻 2 reacted 🤣

Max Verstappen 👍🏻 .

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yn.ln: i want a velaryon burial #HOTDS2

liked by 93,192 others

>comments

danielricciardo: the camera quality sucks just letting you know - yn.ln: thanks! i have eyes btw

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yn.ln: A lot of you wanted to comment and ask questions about my son, and I never really posted about him because I'm not like those parents who use their kids on social media for likes and clout.

Five years ago, I gave birth to my first baby, Pablo L/N (09/12/18) and every day has been filled with laughter and warmth 🦋 he was not a secret, but I tried to keep his life private. Now, a lot of people feel like they have the right to know everything about him. What he looks like. Who his father is. I'm telling you that it doesn't matter.

You don't have the right to his face. You don't have the right to know about his family life because it doesn't concern you and it never will.

Thank you so much to my friends!! @danielricciardo @rileykeough #DakotaJohnson and #ChrisMartin

liked by 1,239,901 others

>comments

danielricciardo: ❤️

rileykeough: 🥺 i love you and p

victoriaverstappen: We love you! - yn.ln: thank you vic, playdate with luka and lio soon? - victoriaverstappen: Absolutely!

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good morning Dessie.

This is Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist, Daniel Kirkman, in light of the rumors between my client and Miss Y/N L/N we humbly request the truth about Pablo L/N's paternity in order to legally and publicly clear things up. Speaking as your old friend, these past few months have been stressful both physically and mentally. Even if there's a sliver of hope that the kid is Carlos' please update me.

Warm regards, Daniel Kirkman.

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

Good afternoon Mr. Kirkman.

I can see that the years have hardly changed you, you still have horrible email etiquette. Because we are old friends, I spoke to Y/N. Truth is, the things that I'm going to share today will ruin your client's reputation if our emails are ever leaked. Remember the fallout of 2018? We both celebrated New Years in Y/N's Santa Monica House.

Actually, New Years was the day we found out that she was pregnant. Not a doubt in our hearts that the baby was Carlos'. We were about to tell him but the moment we landed in Ibiza, she saw Carlos in bed with Brezziana. (I refuse to call her Because!! BECAUSE it is confusing and preposterous.)

I think that hiding Pablo from his father wasn't right, but I don't blame her for doing it. As for the paternity test, Y/N agreed but the team will come back to you with the legalities and such. As a 'friend' I want to tell you that the best Carlos is ever going to have is him paying child support and seeing the child once or twice a month.

Y/N has a lot of lawyers, more than we do friends. And judging by Carlos' personality, I don't think that he'll fight for his son.

Warm Regards, Destiny Bumgarner

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good evening Destiny! What makes you think that Y/N's going to win the legalities? + I never expected you to reveal all of this via chat. You sure that I won't betray you?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

I got dealt with the winning hand now Dan.

I know you're smart enough not to doubt me. :)

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

All is fair in connections and clientele?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

All is fair in life, Dan.

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oliviacooke: sorry for drinking your juice hun. 📸 pablo l/n

liked by 283,192 others

>comments

yn.ln: haha thanks for carrying his bags liv

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There are only two things. Truth and lies.

Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.

The past that you've tried to bury has slowly began to reveal itself. Maybe it was your fault, you aren't sure...

Carlos Sainz was a horrible man. He cheated on you. He didn't apologize. He admitted that another woman made him happier. Was there something special about her? A simple internet starlet with no proper claim to fame made him feel more alive.

"You've got to face him anyways." Dakota placed a glass of wine on the coffee table. "Pablo isn't his. He doesn't even look like him." you shook your head, unable to accept the inevitable truth.

"I've read all the posts on Twitter, they don't think that I have the right to push my son away from his father. Carlos is immature, I don't think that he's even capable of being a father." you scoff, taking a sip.

Haven't you given your son everything that he needed? An iPad, a big house, private education, and vacations in all the nice places.

"Two wrongs don't make a right." Destiny breathed.

"- from what Kirkman says, Carlos has changed. I don't encourage you to be romantic partners or even best friends, but please be civil for Pablo. Please let him have a civil relationship with his father." she added. "I hate it when you're right." you looked away.

You've seen his posts. You've seen his interviews.

There wasn't a bone in his body that screamed mischievousness anymore. He looked tame. Happier.

He achieved all of that without you, and maybe you could be that too.

You can be everything without him too.

"So you'll talk to him?" Dakota asked.

"I'll give it a try." I relented.

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Look at the stars.

Look how they shine for you.

The music played in the background as you sashayed your way into the VIP section of your friend's restaurant. Destiny was an angel enough to close shop and ensure that your privacy was protected especially in these vulnerable moments.

A sigh escapes your mouth, hearing that song in the background. As much as you adored Chris Martin, this song was getting in your feels.

You take a sharp turn, halting once you see his figure.

The very same man that shattered your world in Ibiza. The very same man that looked you in the eyes while he admitted that someone else made him much much happier than you, his fiancee.

And it was called Yellow.

"Thank you so much for being here, Y/N." your name sounded soft on his lips. Behind his brown eyes, there was sorrow - not to be confused with regret because he looked better than he ever was. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" you chuckled.

While nothing about you has changed.

Carlos has changed drastically.

"Destiny told me about the emails. Your team wanted a paternity test, right? You don't need it, Pablo is yours." you decided to be straightforward, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth.

You could feel that bitterness on your throat, like tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, like you just swallowed a pill and forgot to drank water afterwards.

"Uhh - I found out on New Years day, and I wanted to tell you in Ibiza." you didn't bother to continue the story. He knows what you mean.

For you I'd bleed myself dry.

"I'm sorry, really sorry for not being a man. I know that we were about to get married, and I got scared. I was 24 years old, everyone was telling me that I had another life ahead of me. I was young. I wanted to ruin my life. I-I shouldn't have brought you with me." he apologized, trying to find the words that could articulate his feelings.

This was all that you needed from him.

An apology.

"When Destiny found out, she grabbed me by the ear. Told me that I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve you. I believe her, and I want to do everything to make it up to you and Pablo." he promised, but there were still words unsaid - the turn of his brows telling you that he wasn't willing to return back to normal.

That he still loves Because more than he's ever loved you.

"Do you love her?" you smiled bitterly. Your smile.

Look how they shine for you.

"I betrayed both of you that night. She didn't know that we were dating. She didn't know who I was. I apologized to her and she forgave me, but I realized a few years after that I should've apologized to you too." he admitted. "- I love her, really."

You knew that he wasn't lying.

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destinybumgarner: this is the PINK PONY CLUB

liked by 712 others

>comments

yn.ln: WAHAHAH IM JUST HAVING FUN

danielkirkman: crowns c / o pablo the prince

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part two

A/N What driver or actor should we pair reader with? 😭 comment to get tagged

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

3 | that it has to

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, sexual tension, teasing, fluff, & suggestiveness.

❧ Word Count | 5.3k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——“You almost fucked him?” Choso’s voice practically echoes into the air of your shared apartment, a few hours after having a brief conversation on campus and minutes after you started telling him about what happened with Gojo.

Of course, you immediately sigh, “No, I didn’t almost fuck him. We just made out.”

Your best friend was sitting on the living room couch, slouched back, head resting against the couch, manspreading, and eyes plainly up on the ceiling. All while you sat on a nearby single couch, explaining everything to him.

“But, you wanted to fuck him, right?” Choso asks, feeling slightly confused about how things went down in that storage room— especially after you’d, not so long ago, told him you wouldn’t mind doing just that.

You sigh, “Not at the moment no-,”

He’s all too quick to laugh at that and it stops you from speaking for a second. To which both of you get a little quiet. Then, Choso lifts his head from the couch and sends you a look.

“What?” Your brows pinch together, “Why’s that funny?”

Choso’s got this smug look on his face as he shrugs, “I mean, I know how you are so like… You’re tellin’ me you made out with him and you didn’t wanna fuck him right then and there?”

You scoff, “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

His eyes drift down along your seated frame before carefully rising back up, this knowing smirk plaster onto his face, “You? The same girl who gets worked up after one kiss?”

“I-,” Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second but then you’re quick to clear it, “That was one time and we were like, in high school. Of course I’d be flustered.”

“It was twice, princess,” Choso reminds you, “Though, you don’t like bringin’ up the second time because you still think I’m an assh-“

“You are,” You’re all too quick to cut him off, sending him a very pointed glare.

Choso rolls his eyes at you and huffs out a heavy sigh, “I’m not. That was freshman year.”

An eyebrow of yours lifts, “I know you’re not still trying to explain yourself…”

“I’ve apologized for my actions back then already so, no, I’m not trying to explain myself,” He says before moving to shrug and rest his head back again. “But you can’t really discount that kiss, we almost fu-“

“Yeah, yeah,” You cut off yet again, face heating up at the slightest reminder of a very steamy moment you’d shared with your best friend in the past. “I know. I remember, Choso.”

“Right so, considering that…” He has to bite back a smile as he recalls the moment himself, “It’s a bit hard for me to believe you made out with this guy and didn’t find yourself turned on.”

“I-“

“It may have been a while but I still remember your body, princess,” Choso admits, taking a purposeful pause just to hear the way you choke on your words. Thinking about the moment from long ago even more, he does end up smiling to himself, “I know how sensitive you are-“

“God, okay,” You breathe out, eyes widened and everywhere except for in your best friend’s direction, “We get it Choso, I’m sensitive sometimes. But that’s beside the point— I didn’t fuck Satoru.”

He gets quiet again, allowing your words to simmer into the air a bit before he decides to respond. Still with that little grin on his face, he sighs, “…Yet?”

To his surprise, you shrug, “Yeah, yet.”

“I-,” Choso’s head lifts off of the couch again and his eyes are quick to land on you, “Wait seriously?”

Your brows furrow and he notices you’re looking away from him, “Did you miss the part where I said he invited me out to a gala tonight?”

“No,” He tilts his head, “But what does that have to do with you fucking him-, ohhhhhh! You freaky bastards are gonna sneak off to have sex, aren’tcha?” There’s a bit of teasing in his voice as he makes his predictions.

“Well, I don’t know…”

Choso raises a brow and grows more curious, leaning forward a bit, “You want to?”

You finally look at him, “Huh?”

“Do you want to have sex with Gojo tonight, yes or no?”

“I wouldn’t mind-“

Choso tips his head to the side and there’s that stupid smirk on his face as his voice grows oddly soft, “Yes or no, princess c’mon.”

You shrug, “Yeah, I gu-“

“Do not finish that statement with an I guess,” He chuckles, “You know damn well you want him to blow your back o-“

With your eyes going all wide, you cut him off as quickly as you can, “Fuck off, Choso.”

He snorts, “M’just teasin’, chill,” He starts laughing at your reaction and you just send him a playful little glare before standing up. To which his laughter dies down and his eyes lift along your body as you stand, “Where’re you goin’?” Choso asks curiously.

You move your arms up a bit to stretch, “M’gonna go see if I have anything to wear. If not, Satoru said he’d take me shopping for something.”

Choso’s eyes widened, “Really? That’s nice of him.”

“I know right?” A smile begins to dawn on you, “I think it’s his way of making up for inviting me last minute.”

“Mh,” Choso hums, watching as you begin to exit the living room, “…You’re gonna tell me everything when you get back, right?”

“Of course I will, I tell you everything,” You reply cheerfully.

“Alright then uh,” He stands up and rolls his shoulders back a bit to stretch, “Be safe tonight.”

You flash him a genuine smile before disappearing around a nearby corner toward your bedroom, “I will, thanks.”

And at that, Choso finds his eyes lingering in the area you’d last stood in for some reason. It’s like there was more he wanted to say to you but he wasn’t sure what. So, he ends up shrugging the feeling off before going to cater to himself.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Luckily for you, there was a wonderful dress you had sitting in your closet for such a fancy occasion such as a gala. It wasn’t the most expensive or anything but, it was decent enough to wear out and it followed along with the dress code Gojo had described to you through text.

It was a rather long dress with a slit that trailed teasingly up your thigh. Decorated in a pretty dark blue fabric, it hugged your body in all the right areas and gave you a rather flattering silhouette. Do you remember when or why you purchased this dress? No, but that’s the least of your worries right now as you admire yourself in it.

And it becomes even less of a worry as the sound of a notification pinging your phone steals your attention from the mirror. Since catching up with Choso, you’d spent your time getting ready and quite a few hours had drifted by. As such, the notification on your phone was from none other than the man of the hour— Gojo Satoru.

You smiled as soon as you read his name on your screen, quickly reaching for the device and reading his text that informed you he was downstairs waiting for you. After sending a hasty response back to him, you were quick to grab the last of the items you wanted to bring with you, stuffing them into a small purse you planned to carry with you for the night.

When you left your room, Choso was spotted in the kitchen with his tongue lapping away at an ice cream cone. Unknowingly, your eyes were glued to the sight for seconds longer than you realized. He drags his tongue languidly along the sweet dessert and you only blink out of your little daze when it somehow manages to miss his mouth, a drop landing on his chin.

At that moment, Choso seems to notice you’ve exited your room and he raises a brow at your eyes all over the lower half of his face.

“What?” He huffs out, brows pushing together in quick annoyance.

You bat your lashes and swallow before meeting his gaze, “Nothing,” You nearly chirp as the word leaves your lips, almost as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. Then, you shake your head and start to walk toward him, to which his eyes drop down to the dress you’re wearing the second your figure becomes fully visible to him, “Anyway, what do you think?”

Choso takes his time to study you, his eyes greedily drinking in every inch of you as his gaze trails down, focuses on your legs for a second too long, and then slips back up to eventually land back on your face, “You look alright.” He hums.

Your face goes straight, “That’s it?? Just alright?”

The corner of his lips twitched, “What else am I supposed to say?”

You roll your eyes, “‘You look good’ would’ve been decent.”

“I would’ve said that if you actually looked good,” Choso replies nonchalantly, quick to flash a smile at the way a vein of annoyance pops out along your face.

“Y’know what, I don’t know why I asked you in the first place,” You practically groan as you start turning away.

The second your back profile is revealed to him, he’s shamelessly drinking you in yet again before releasing a sigh, “I was just jokin’, c’mon.”

You glance back at him over your shoulder and raise a brow.

Choso looks you dead in the eye and tilts his head to the left a little, “You look sexy. There? Happy now?”

You blink, turn around to face him again, and then take a few steps toward him, “Were you being genuine just now or are you fuckin’ with me again?” Your arms cross as you question him.

“I was bein’ serious,” He tells you, feeling a bit confused why you’re approaching him so suddenly, “That dress makes your ass look good.”

Coming to a stop in front of him, you scoff, “You were lookin’ at my ass?”

“M’always lookin’ at your ass,” Choso smirks down at you.

You return a slight smile, “Perv.”

He chuckles, “I’m not a-,“ Whatever refute he was going to say goes out the window as you lift your hand to his face. Choso seems to forget how to talk for a second while your thumb swipes over his jaw, a loud gulp coming from him before he clears his throat, “…P-Pervert.” He murmurs out.

Your thumb draws away from his face and you show him the bit of vanilla ice cream he’d gotten on himself. Choso sighed at the sight, wondering why the hell he got so nervous moments ago. Then, as if to redeem himself, he takes his free hand to your wrist and leans down.

“Sure you’re not,” Similar to him, your voice seems to die in your throat at his following action. Yes, Choso is your best friend but… he’s one of those best friends that could easily be mistaken for your boyfriend based on the way he acts and things he does.

Like now for example, as he pulls your hand back up near his face, looks down at your thumb, and licks the ice cream you’d just wiped off of his face.

You’re nearly frozen for a moment as your eyes latch onto his lips, tongue, and just every small detail on his face as he remains all too close to you for a few seconds. Slowly, his gaze flicks to yours and you gulp.

Choso all-too-casually smiles at you as he lowers his voice, “Didn’t wanna waste anything,” He tells you.

You wonder if that’s supposed to be a valid reason behind him licking your thumb just now but instead of questioning him, you just nod. “Right…” You murmur back.

Carefully, he lets go of your hand and leans away from you, returning his attention to the rest of the ice cream in his other hand. After which, he starts walking away from you, “Alright, cya,” He dismisses.

You snap out of your daze and clear your throat, “Yeah, I’ll uh, I’ll be back in a few hours I think.”

“Mhm, I’ll be up if you need me when you’re back.” He says finally.

And with that, you collect yourself with a little sigh, “‘Kay.”

Then, you were turning away and exciting the apartment before he knew it. Choso, left alone, moves his fingers to his chin that you’d recently touched, wondering why the hell he reacted that way. His hand then wanders to his lips and he nearly smiles to himself at the way you’d frozen up just from him licking your finger— as if he hadn’t done similar actions before.

Shaking his head, Choso ends up laughing at the whole thing while he makes his way to his bedroom. It’s been a while since he’s made you flustered like that. Part of him almost missed it.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Meanwhile, as you made your way downstairs wiping your thumb off on your dress, you found yourself replaying just about everything from the day so far.

It felt like so much had happened— from Gojo’s tongue all in your mouth to Choso’s sudden… Clinginess? You’re not sure what word to put to it yet but he’s been acting a bit strange. And if you’re being honest with yourself, so have you. You can’t remember the last time you found your eyes lingering on Choso the way they did today.

You’re not ashamed or embarrassed to admit that your best friend’s hot but the last time you checked him out this much was a few years ago when you had a crush on hi-

Cutting your thoughts off was the sound of Gojo calling your name. You didn't even realize you’d made it all the way downstairs. Though, the sight of Gojo in a dark blue suit and his hair neatly styled was all it took to capture all of your attention.

“Hi Satoru,” You greet with a kind smile on your face as you approach the man.

His hand is out for you to take once you’re close enough and his pretty blue eyes are everywhere on you within seconds, “Hey pretty girl,” Gojo hums whilst you lay your hand in his, “You look…” He trails off for a second as he lifts your clasped hands up a bit, signaling you to spin around for him. After which, the bright smile on his face seemed to widen, “Amazing, wow.”

“Aw, thank you,” You murmur while he twirls you around until you come to a stop in front of him. “Think I look good enough to pass as your girlfriend for a night?”

Gojo shrugs a little, his eyes still taking in the way your dress is clinging to you before swiping his tongue over his lips. “Mhm…” He hums mindlessly, halfway hearing whatever it is you just said, “Yeah… Y’sure you wanna go to this gala with me?”

You blink, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean,” His head tilts, “We could always do somethin’ else.”

“Like?” Your eyes remain on his face despite his gaze all over your body.

Gojo nearly bites his lip, “We could skip all that ‘nd just fuck in my car, honestly.” Voice lowering a bit, he hardly realizes he just said that out loud until your reaction comes seconds later.

Heat swarms your face and you gulp, “W-What?”

The man finally meets your gaze and decides not to play too coy about what he’d just offered, “You heard me.”

“Are you serious?” You question.

“Only if you want me to be…” Gojo smirks. One of his hands drifts to your waist and he gently pulls you closer to him, “I mean, that would be a decent enough excuse to give my parents as to why I didn’t show up…”

“I-,” You gulp down whatever it is you were going to say as you try to figure out if he’s being serious right now, “Satoru…”

“Hm?” His brows raise and he studies your expression closely. It only takes Gojo a second or two to realize you were really considering his words, “Y’know you can say no, right?”

You crack a brief smile, “Y-Yeah I know… it’s just…”

He quirks a brow, “What? You wanna fuck me?”

“No!” You chirp, glancing away, “Well-, yes, but no,” He’s smiling at the way your brows push together while you try to figure out what to say, “N-Not right now… I-I just-“

Gojo interrupts your stammering with a laugh, “I was jus’ teasin’ you sweetheart, relax.”

You move to playfully hit his arm, “Do you get off on seeing me flustered or somethin’?”

This smug expression slips onto his face, “Y’want the honest answer to that-“

“No,” Your eyes get all wide and you quickly step to the side, “Let’s go.”

He snorts before turning around to open his car door for you. The two of you waste no time settling into the vehicle and you notice how Gojo’s eyes keep finding their way to your legs at any given chance.

For the time being, you decide to ignore his little glances. If anything, you tease him a bit once he starts driving by crossing one leg over the other, your leg being revealed more due to that slit in your dress.

And you just loved how Gojo didn’t hesitate to glance over whenever he got the chance to. You think you actually liked his little glances. It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve been looked at in such a way and you were truthfully relishing in it tonight.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

No, seriously— the entire night was filled with those longing glances. So much so that you think you were growing rather addicted to them. Hell, perhaps you were even searching for Gojo’s eyes to be on you at nearly every passing second.

After all, he does have such pretty eyes. A feature you soon learn has been passed down from his parents. You don’t think you’ve ever known someone to be such a spitting image of their parents before.

Actually, you’re surprised you even got to meet them. Especially considering that when you first walked into the gala with your arms looped around one of Gojo’s you swore there were one too many esteemed-looking guests scattered all over the place. And when Gojo had initially pointed out his parents to you, they were surrounded by a bunch of older people and hearty laughs could be heard coming from their direction.

He made a comment in your ear about how those same elderly folks were going to come swarming the two of you pretty soon, which led you to wonder just how important a family Gojo comes from.

Obviously, they’re pretty wealthy and well known but you’re completely unsure what for. Though, before you get a moment to ask him this, his attention is dragged away by the first interruption of the night— some older businessman who was greeting Gojo in the blink of an eye.

You tried to slip away from his arm to give him time to tend to the man but with the way he tugged you closer and his smile grew more tight-knit, you got the feeling that he didn’t want you to leave his side just yet.

Such an interaction continued countless times throughout the night up until he was practically ripped away from you. Some other group of people finally got to him and his attention was completely stolen from you.

You weren’t upset over it or anything though, you actually quite liked the little moment of escape you got. It gave you a chance to explore the venue a bit up until you finally found a bar to occupy yourself at. 

Only one drink was ordered and you managed to make small talk with some people who were also at this bar until things around you somewhat simmered down. As such, you eventually found yourself seated but facing the rest of the gala, your eyes watching Gojo’s parents chat with some more people— from your perspective, it seemed like they never got a break.

You tried looking around for Gojo but he was nowhere to be found. There were a lot more people now but things seemed more relaxed. Or maybe you were just feeling more relaxed.

Either way, with a sigh, you spun back around to face the bar as the soothing melody of Sade’s Smooth Operator filled your ears. Everything around you really was quite fancy, fancier than anything else you’ve ever experienced. Though, you dubbed it down to a bunch of rich people in suits making a bunch of connections with one another. Honestly, you could get used to this kinda lifestyle-

“You come here often?” A voice murmured right into your heart, nearly causing your heart to jump out of your chest as you flinched and turned your head to the person who’d just spoken.

An immediate sigh slips past your lips as you realize it’s just Gojo being as teasing as ever, “You scared the shit out of me, don’t do that,” You say with a chuckle.

He smiles, “And you didn’t answer my question, gorgeous,” Gojo purrs, tipping his head to the side as he leans against the bar and remains close to you, “What’s a pretty lady like you doin’ at a bar all alone, hm?”

You smile, “Well, my date-“

“Boyfriend,” He corrects, “For the night, remember?”

You swallow, “Riiight… My boyfriend, ditched me to go suck it up to some rich guys.”

“Yeah?” Gojo begins to play into this conversation just as much as you are, “What a terrible guy! Y’know, I’d never leave someone like you all alone like this.” His voice is filled with so much sarcasm that you can’t help but find the natural banter between you and him intriguing for the nth time.

“Really? So what would you do then?” You tease, maintaining such consistent eye contact with him that it almost makes him nervous.

Gojo shrugs casually and smoothly holds his hand out for you to take, “See, if you were my girlfriend, I’d have you out on that dance floor showin’ you off to all these lame rich people.”

Your face practically lights up at that, “Is this your way of inviting me to dance with you, Satoru?” You ask, breaking that little act of yours.

He’s quick to smile, “It is.”

With a hum, you place your hand in his and allow him to guide you out of your seat, “I suppose I’m inclined to accept your invitation then.”

Gojo swears that every time you speak, his heart is feeling all weird in his chest, “I suppose you are.”

And with that, he’s walking you to the nearest dancefloor where Sade’s voice has grown much louder. Obviously, given the abundance of wealthy people here, most people are swaying rather slowly with their partners. So of course you and Gojo follow suit and move to sway with that sweet melody.

Dancing with Gojo is probably the highlight of your day. Forget making out with him in some dusty storage room, or gazing at Choso much more than you intended to, nothing compares to right now as your arms drape around his neck and his around your waist— your body's swaying in sync to the song adorning the ambiance of the whole party.

It was almost romantic. Almost. 

Up until Gojo starts being playful again. A smile spreads across his face so suddenly and you raise a brow. He doesn’t give you a chance to question his expression as he’s talking before you know it, “Am I?” Gojo asks very randomly.

You snort, “Are you what?”

“A smooth operator?” God, he’s the biggest dork you’ve ever had the pleasure of interacting with. All you could do was burst into a slight chuckle and shake your head at him. To which he raises a brow, “What?? That’s a genuine question.”

“I can’t stand you,” You giggle, rolling your eyes at his corny comment.

Gojo sighs, “Sit on me then.”

“Satoru,” You huff out in a scolding tone.

“What?” He questions, as if he didn’t say what he just said.

You turn your head to the side and chuckle at how shameless he is, “How do you go from being an idiot to some flirtatious freak within seconds??”

“I dunno,” Gojo shrugs, “Things just come to me.���

Nodding a little, “Do they?” You ask.

“Mhm,” He hums in response, staring intently at the side of your face.

“Well-“

“But I was being serious that time,” The way seriousness drips off of his tone has your body tensing.

Your eyes snap back over to him, “What?”

With perfect timing, he looks away, “There’s people watchin’ us right now.” Gojo points out with a little nod of his chin.

“So…?” A brow lifts in question and you keep your eyes on his face, “People have been watching us all night.”

“Nono, they’re watching like they’re seconds from approaching us.” He explains, glancing around at other people.

You chuckle nervously, “Okay… So what?”

“So…” Gojo lets out a long sigh and finally looks at you again, “I don’t feel like talking to anyone else tonight.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Steal me away.”

Rolling your eyes at him yet again, “How?” You ask.

“Well,” He shrugs cheekily, “You are my girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Do I really have to spell it out-“

“Yes.”

“I-,” His jaw clenches a bit as he swallows any argument to that down, “Fine. No one’s gonna question me if they see you dragging me out of here.”

You blink, “Like, dragging you out to leave?”

“Mmh, no. Like, dragging me upstairs.” Gojo emphasizes, glancing over to a distant staircase.

You turn your head back to follow his gaze, “What’s upstairs?”

He finds himself looking at you again, “My old bedroom.”

“Your-,” You pause. Then, your head slowly turns to face him, “Oh.”

The man winks at you and his lips curve into a smirk, “Y’get it now?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

Gojo hums, “Think you can pull that off, sweetheart?”

You scoff at his little challenge, “Of course I can. I know how to be a fake girlfriend.”

“Do you? It feels like I’ve been putting in all the work tonight-“ His voice is caught in the middle of his throat as you tug him closer to you and tilt your head, your lips nearly on his.

“Has it really?” You whisper, eyes dropping down to his lips, “Should I start putting more effort into this twenty-four-hour relationship then?”

“Yes please,” He unintentionally begs, clearing his throat seconds later. “I mean-, yeah, that’d uh… that’d be nice.” Gojo tries to sound nonchalantly but he ultimately fails— something you find so ridiculously cute.

With one last little hum of acknowledgment, you pull him all the way in and your lips land on his. Gojo’s eyes widen for a second as if he wasn’t expecting that but in reality, he was just trying to put on a little show for the nearby lingering eyes. His hands grip onto your waist and he’s quick to shut his eyes and press his lips onto yours seconds later.

He had to make this believable after all…

As if the way you two have been looking at each other all night wasn’t enough to convince any idiot with eyes that you two were in a ‘relationship’.

And hey, maybe he gets a little carried away with making things believable because his hand somehow finds its way sinking along your body and he’s grabbing a greedy handful of your ass, groaning into your mouth, and pushing forward with you without a second thought. Then he feels you smile against him and he thinks his eyes almost roll to the back of his head.

It was such a simple little curve of your lips against his and yet he was already losing his mind. Or perhaps it was how long he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you. You’ve been inside his head all day and he couldn’t stop replaying your body against his earlier.

Fuck, if you kept kissing him the way you were right now, he swore he was going to take you right here and now– in front of everyone. Which is why he has to rip himself away for a second just to whisper to you, “Sweetheart, we-,” He’s cut off by your lips slotting against his again and Gojo can’t help but groan instead of finishing his statement.

Were you feeling the same way as him? Did he give you this unusual thrill inside the same way you did him? Was kissing him making you lightheaded? Was it distracting you from the surrounding world and making your body heat up all over the damn place? Gojo sure as hell hopes so because that’s exactly how he’s feeling now.

He tries to pull away again though, this time mumbling against your lips, “Fuckin’ need you,” He grunts out directly into your mouth.

Your grasp slips over to the sides of his neck and then up a little, hands framing his face before you ease back with a slight smile, “So have me then,” You whisper in response.

Gojo loses himself a bit at the sound of that, his lips sliding off of yours and finding themselves down against your neck and one of his hands dropping to grab ahold of you from that teasing slit in your dress, hoisting that one leg up against his hip and catching you by surprise. His other hand occupies your waist but his fingers are dancing dangerously against the fabric, as if he were seconds away from snatching something.

Your head tips back ever so slightly as a gasp leaves you, your awareness to still being in the middle of a gala coming to you, “N-Not here Satoru,” You chuckle at his hastiness, “People are watching-”

“Let them,” He hushes out against your skin, lips hot and wet under your jawline and his hand gripping onto your thigh.

You take things into your own hands by slipping your fingers down a little to his chest and giving him the softest little push, “Upstairs,” You murmur, “You’re supposed to be taking me upstairs, remember?”

Gojo shakes his head, “No… You’re supposed to be taking me upstairs.”

Rolling your eyes at his specifics, “Are you gonna let me?”

“Dunno if I’ll make it up there with you, baby,” He hums all too passionately into your neck, “I need you,” Gojo repeats yet again, this time licking your skin, “Needa taste you.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you gulp, moving one of your hands to pull one of his off of you. Slowly, you manage to remove Gojo’s grips all over your body but he struggles to pry himself away from your neck. Even so, you end up taking one of his hands in yours and walking backward, glancing around at the surprisingly few people actually looking at you two.

You’re thankful that not too many people seemed to care that Gojo doesn’t know how to keep his hands off of his girlfriend, with the exception of his parents who were among those individuals that were watching the small little show of affection you and Gojo just performed.

Your hand squeezes onto Gojo’s a bit tighter and you turn your body to walk properly toward the staircase he’d pointed at a while ago. Technically you don’t know exactly where you’re going but you assume he’ll lead the way once you make it upstairs.

Gojo snaps out of his little stupor and notices his parents are watching you drag him upstairs, making note that this plan of his seems to be working. Although, he secretly couldn’t care less that you were his excuse to escape this event– in reality, Gojo was genuinely eager to get in your pants.

But, you didn’t pay too much attention to that.

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[boowritess]

part 1 hehe

notsobaddasssoldier!reader that is so incredibly under prepared for everything. and the 141 really do forget that you're actually still very green - very new to this life.

especially with things like interrogation.

for once, price is putting you on the sideline BUT you have to interogate the person they have captive for valuable information.

they'll give you whatever things you need in order to pry out any sort of information from the captive. they don't even second guess you asking for a guitar. they get one then they continue on with the mission while you interrogate the person.

their expectation may have been very high. they were betting on all the little fun bloody pain you could potentially do to the captive. seriously,

"knife, they're a knife person" *ghost*

"definitely not. fire. they're definitely using a blowtorch on em as we speak." *soap*

"sod of the both of ya - waterboarding. for sure." *gaz*

"choking." *price shrugs*

obviously, they were excited to come back and see who was right...

it really humbled them to see they were all wrong.

"please make them stop. i'll tell you whatever you want"

*captive yelling that can be barely heard over reader.*

"AHHHHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH AHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH-"

*reader who is loudly strumming the guitar out of tune, screaming in the captives' face over and over again.*

the guys don't know if they should be impressed or concerned. they were gone for nearly 5 hours.

5 hours you had been screaming in the captives' face 'playing' the guitar.

later on you get a lesson from ghost about what interrogations are supposed to be like - it ends with you vomiting and price patting your back and gaz holding a bucket to your mouth.

"what did you think was gonna happen when ghost showed ye what to do?" *soap*

"i don't know... go boo?" *scarred reader*

yeah... you're not allowed to do interrogations anymore or be involved in interrogations- you are also most definitely not allowed to talk to captives or guard them because -

"why're you doing this?" *captive*

"honest to god, i ain't got much goin' for me and i had hella stu-"

*reader's mouth suddenly gets covered, gaz looking at you like an idiot*

"hm? what is your little task force plan, huh? go on and blow the place?" *captive*

"well actually no. they plan too-" *your mouth gets covered just in time and you're getting dragged out the room by a very frustrated price*

you very much get ANOTHER lesson about what NOT TO DO when in the same room as a captive - it's pointless though because you're still not ever allowed in the same room alone with a captive.

HAHAHA

i can't stop thinking of reader who is watching a captive be interrogated for information by getting choked and reader just piping up like

"i don't think they can breathe..."

*ghost, long exhale, continues choking captive*

"that's the point, kid" *price*

"oh..."

*they continue choking the captive, waiting for them to crack-*

"if they can't breathe how are they going to talk-?"

"out." *ghost snaps pointing at the door.*

maybe they do give you a second shot at attempting to interrogate the captive. the 'correct' way this time, though. giving you ALL the necessary tools...

and you are ready, you're pumped. you can do it. you're not going to vomit - you're going to do it right.

you grab the pliers and walk towards the captive who is obviously panicked, very much expecting you to do your worse. which you are.

you grab their mouth and force their mouth open, ready to pull their teeth out - sucking a deep breath in as the captive starts to cry and beg.

but then you start to cry and beg.

"please just tell me the information i don't wanna do this"

"you don't have too!" *captive, crying and begging too*

"i do! i'm sorry..."

"no." *captive*

"yes."

"no" *captive starts screaming, making you start screaming as you pull on their tooth both of you staring at eachother and screaming your heads off.*

"I'M SORRY!"

"STOP!" *captive*

"I CAN'T!" *pulls tooth with pliers* "EW EW EW EW-"

you don't even do it right. you're pulling at their tooth with pliers and you're not strong enough so you're awkwardly just tugging the captives head. but the both of you are too busy screaming and begging to notice...

but you actually manage to successfully get the information - you're still not allowed to do interrogations... only being the very last option.

it does mean that you have to go on missions... even if you're useless omg idea?

*gasp* someone claims reader is a traitor - oop?

more parts, perhaps?

a/n: wrote this while trying to work through an anxiety/panic attack !! xx honestly tho these would be my genuine reaction. btw drink water and try sleep cause i can't xx

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[ilyrafe]

𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x ex!f!reader

warnings: angst, pregnancy scare

word count: 1.6k

“i need to talk to you, it’s urgent. can i come over?”

the text catches rafe by surprise as he hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks. since the breakup, to be specific.

despite not being your boyfriend anymore, rafe still cares for you a great deal, and you rarely text him stuff like this, so it must be serious.

“of course.”

he puts his phone down and begins to wonder what must have happened for you to break your own idea of going no contact.

this has been killing him, not being able to talk to you. he misses you more than he anticipated and it sucks. it’s horrible not having you around, and the saddest bit is that he has no one else to blame but himself.

him and his ways.

half an hour later, he hears a knock on the door and before he can stand up from the chair, you come in. you seem anxious. terrified, even.

“hey.”

“hey, what’s so urgent?”

“i’m late.” you say, but rafe frowns, not quite understanding what you mean. “i’m late, rafe.”

“late?”

“my period, rafe. i’m late.”

oh.

oh, no.

“h-how late are you? i thought you took the pill!”

“i did, but i am a week late. so, i wanna know what we’re gonna do about it.”

rafe needs to breathe, it seems that all the air has left the room. he takes a step back and rubs his face with both hands, trying to be rational.

you’re probably pregnant with his child. this is not how he imagined this was going to happen. it turns out, rafe is quite traditional.

“what do you want to do?”

you seem a bit surprised with his question.

“i… i don’t know, rafe. we’re too young.”

“i’m good with whatever you decide. if you want to keep it, i won’t, uh, i won’t be absent. i’ll provide for you both, i’ll do everything i have to. and if you don’t want to keep it, i’ll pay for it.”

this isn’t going how you were expecting, if you’re being honest. you expected a fight, you expected rafe to claim it wasn’t his child, but… he’s being mature about it, which is new.

truthfully, you don’t know what you want. sure, you’d like children, but not now. not when you’re nineteen and don’t have a clue about what you’re doing in life. not when you don’t have a partner, a job, a house. not when the father of your child is rafe cameron, a drug addict with anger issues.

“i’d like to buy some tests first before i decide what i want to do.”

he nods and takes his car keys, leading you out of the office and taking you to his car.

it doesn’t take long for him to drive you to the nearest drugstore. when he parks the car, you don’t move an inch.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“i can’t believe this is happening to me.” you say, not being able to hold the tears any longer. this is a nightmare. “what am i gonna tell my parents?”

“you’ll tell them the truth. you’re pregnant and you won’t be doing this alone, i’m here.”

you look at rafe quite skeptically and try your best to believe him, but he’s broken your trust so many times before, it’s difficult to see any honesty in his words.

“not telling them anything and getting an abortion is also an option, you know? we don’t have to tell anybody. whatever it is that you decide, i’m cool with it.”

for your own sake, you choose to believe him and wipe away your tears before you exit his car and go to the drugstore.

you try not to look so suspicious, but you’re looking around, to make sure no one you know is there, and thankfully you’re safe. you buy three different tests and quickly come back to rafe’s car.

the drive back home is excruciating. you can already picture your future as a single mother. you fear what your parents will say if you are indeed pregnant, which you probably are. you’re never late. when you were two days late, you thought it was odd, but then the days kept passing by and nothing happened.

then you did the math.

rafe, on the other hand, is actually happy that you might be pregnant with his child. he always knew he wanted to be a father. this is probably not the best time because you’re not a couple, you’re not really adults, and you don’t really have a stable life, but hey, this is what happens when you have unprotected sex. sure, you took the pill, but no contraceptive is one hundred percent effective.

this kid may be rafe’s only chance to have you somehow linked to him forever and that isn’t a bad thing necessarily… right?

once you’re back to tanney hill, you and rafe nearly run to his bedroom and he makes sure to lock the door so no one can catch them. you open them all and read all the instructions to do it right. you enter his bathroom and once you’re done, rafe has expectant eyes.

“so?”

“we have to wait five minutes.”

“oh, let me set a timer.”

he pulls up his phone and sets a five minute timer while you sit on his bed and sigh as you look up, trying to remain calm, but you can’t.

“i think we should talk about our… possibilities.”

“what possibilities?”

“if you are pregnant and want to keep it, you won’t be doing this alone, okay? i promise. i know this isn’t ideal, but… we’ll get through it. money isn’t a problem.”

“rafe, this isn’t the point. i don’t want to have a baby at nineteen with someone who isn’t my husband. like, i respect the ones who do it, but i don’t want this to be my life.”

rafe chuckles. you’re such a goodie-goodie, he wonders how the hell he managed to get you to date him.

“c’mon, you’ll be a great mom.” he says, truthfully. “you’re great with kids and you’re so caring, so understanding.”

you look at him and chuckle.

“that’s not only what it takes to be a mother.”

“but that’s also important.”

you lie down on his bed and take a deep breath. if rafe wasn’t so unstable, you’d consider having his baby, but… he’s not. he’s being good now, but you can’t predict how he’s going to be tomorrow morning and you can’t raise a child in this environment. you know better than that.

“if you’re keeping the baby, i’m getting clean.” he says. “i’ll quit everything.”

“rafe…”

“i’m serious. i don’t want my kid to be afraid of me, to be in danger because of me.”

the last part breaks your heart a little, as it was one of the reasons why you decided to break things off with him.

“that’s… that’s good to know.”

“i know we don’t need to be married to have a kid, but it’d be nice to, i don’t know, try again.”

“you want to get back together because i’m pregnant?” you snort.

“i want to get back together because i miss you and i love you, and since you might be pregnant, i think it’d be better for us to try again, so our baby can have a full family. you know, mom and dad in the same space.”

our baby. hearing rafe say such things make you even more confused and aggravated, only because you know, deep down, rafe isn’t the right guy for you, as much as you love each other. you know you’re too good for him because even barry told you so.

“he’s a lost cause, y/n. don’t be wastin’ your time with him, he’ll get you in trouble and you don’t deserve that.”

“stop saying things like that, rafe. please, this isn’t the time.” you plead, trying not to cry.

god knows how difficult it was to end things with him, because you love him oh so much. as cliché as it sounds, he’s really not like the other guys. he’s sweet, caring, funny and smart, but he also keeps setting himself up for failure and you’ve realized you can’t fix him and that realization alone broke you in tiny little pieces.

it’s like they say, loving someone is also learning to let them go and this is what you’ve been trying to do. it kills you that you told him to never talk to you again, because you miss his voice. you miss his jokes. you miss hearing his voice saying your name or whatever silly nickname he comes up with.

his phone rings, startling you both. once again, you don’t move, so rafe takes you by the hand and enter his bathroom with you. on the counter, you take the tests and see the results.

negative

negative

negative

the relief you feel is indescribable. you can finally breathe.

“what does it say?” he asks, a bit anxious.

“they’re all negative.” you respond, showing him the tests.

“oh,”

“oh, my god.” you sigh, smiling for the first time in a week. you turn to rafe and give him a hug. “thank you, rafe.”

rafe hugs you back, basking in the feeling of having you back in his arms again. for a few seconds, he allows himself to forget you both are broken up and just had a pregnancy scare. for a few seconds, you’re his again and nothing else matters.

“you okay?”

“now i am.” you chuckle, wiping away new tears.

“d’you want me to drive you home?”

“no, no, it’s okay. i’ve bothered you too much today.” you say, jokingly.

whenever you said that, he always said you never bother me, but he figures now it would be inappropriate.

“call me if you need anything, okay?”

“okay. thank you.”

you give him one last smile before you get your things and leave tanney hill, feeling light as a feather, not at all suspecting that rafe feels like absolute shit.

when you pictured your life as a single mother, rafe saw himself with a family. his own family. the people he would do anything and everything for, the people he would love endlessly.

the only hope he had of having you back in his life, the only thing that would make him turn his life around, the only person who would make him want to be a better person.

it never existed.

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