#EVEN IF THEY NEVER FUCKING SPEAK TO EACH OTHER ON SCREEN ONCE

[sirompp]

their friendship means so much to me (talking about two characters who have never spoken to each other on screen)

[nysrage]

MOVIE NIGHT, Connie Springer.

synopsis: you and connie always had an unique friendship, all touch feely with one another, but tensions rise after you two took a detour down lustrous lane.

You and your friends were always known for spontaneously coming up with a move. Basking in the time of some unplanned fun until all of you had to face the real world once you were all out of college. The group of you piled up in the dorms common area, with the projector running after feasting on wings, pizza, and alcohol. Ending the night with a horror movie that was sure to have you all watching your surroundings for the next few days.

“girl come on! the movies starting!” sasha called out to you, dimming the lights in the room while you quickly grabbed a few snacks that’ll last you throughout the film.

Entering the common space just for your spot to be taken by onyankapon. Sprawled out across the floor as if he wasn’t just pushing 6’5. “Now ony you knew that was my spot!” You whined.

Ony brushing you off with a laugh as he typed away in his phone. “shittt you decked the fuck out this cot, and workouts been beating my ass sis.”

You sucked your teeth, trying to find any spot you could until there was a light tug on your arm, turning to face your bestfriend connie. golden eyes low from the edible he indulged himself in earlier, voice all low and deep “c’mere, you know i got you..”

pulling you down to sit in just in front of him between his legs, tucked in the corner of the room. His arms circled around your middle as you shifted around till you were comfortable, resting his chin on your should just as the intro of the movie began. Affection such as this was natural between the two of you, so natural that no one would ever bat an eyelash at the two of you unless they didn’t know your dynamic.

Only it hadn’t been so natural lately, the two of you putting a slight distance in your relationship this past week. It’d all been so tense since that one night the two of you heatedly made out session in the closet at a party. Never speaking on it again. Everyone but the two of you swore there was more to your relationship than you spilled, and they were so wrong until that kiss where the both of you drunkenly revealed the love you had for one another. Causing a slight rift between you, but it was so very short lived after tonight.

Horror was the very thing you steered clear of but who were you to rain on everyones parade. Plus being in the same space as your bestfriend gave you some comfort. He always kept you safe, even if things between the two of you were a bit complicated at the moment.

Within the first fourty minutes of the movie you were practically in his lap. Shifting around quite a bit, glancing behind you at connie whose eyes were focused on the screen. You were a bit uneasy from the jump scares. Yet the thing that had you so bothered had nothing to do with the movie. Being so close to connie felt so different now, and it always left you flustered whenever you were in his presence. Plus the feeling of connie pressed so close to your ass, didn’t help to ease every disgusting thought that through your mind right now. From the way his arms and big hands wrapped around your waist. To the feeling of his body pressed so close against yours, it made you all dizzy.

Little did you know, it was the same effect for connie. You, pressing yourself further into every time you got scared. That soft ass sitting atop his pelvis all heavy and round. Your chubby waist resting in his arms as he caressed your soft, smooth, brown skin of your belly. The two of you just so hot and bothered. Pining for eachother in a suffering silence, until the two of began to break. Not able to take it anymore. Maybe it was the liquor? Shit or the weed? Hell, maybe even the good feeling the two of you gave each other last week but that sexual tension wasn’t something the two of you could fight anymore.

Connie let his hands wander mindlessly over your chubby little body, tracing over the skin of your hips and thighs. Massaging the soft flesh and dipping lower to the creases of your inner thighs. The skin all warm and smooth to the touch, as he gently explores your body. Not missing one reaction you had to his touches, big or small. Burying himself into your neck to drown himself in the seductive ass perfume you always wore, and succumbing to the urge to have that soft skin against his lips again. Placing a soft kiss to your exposed shoulder as he continued to massage the squishy cellulite in your thighs. Your body melts into his as you get all worked up, huffing out a small breathe of air. Body growing hotter by the second from these little minuscule touches.

“I missed you..” you whimper out softly, legs subconsciously spreading to give his hands more freedom to roam. Connie responding with a content hum as he placed a wet kiss against the warm skin of your neck. dipping his hands lower to ghost over the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Dick growing stiff against that soft ass pressed so hard against him. “f-fuck, i missed you too.”

“So much hermosa..”

“Yeah..?” the soft whine from your lips barely audible over the loud cries and thrilled beat of the soundtrack. Connie’s strong hand runs up your waist until meeting that perked nipple hidden by the ribbed fabric of your tank top. Giving your breast a firm squeeze as he indulged himself a deep inhale of your scent.

“Mhm, ” he breathed out, hands coming dangerously close to the mound of your pussy, “Gon’ let me show you how much..?” You breathe hitched, looking up at him through your lashes and meeting his lustrous eyes. All low and red, but those golden irises still glimmered with something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. You nod softly, tucking your bottom lip behind those pretty teeth of yours. “Please..”

Connie discreetly looked around the room, all your friends focused on the movie as the masked killer began slowly picking people off, singaling it was almost to its climax. He eased his hand lower, cupping your pussy just as he turned your face towards his to captured your lips in a slow sensual kiss. Swallowing the low moan breaking past your soft lips. Ghosting his hand over the thin fabric of your thong, already dampened with slick. Running his fingers along your clothed folds until reaching your peeking clit, pressing down on it to release some of that building pressure.

You call out to him in a low whine, “connie stop teasingg.” trying your hardest to be discreet, but that needy feeling of having him touchy how you always wanted was too strong, and you were too drunk off lust to realize the consequences.

“Eyes on the movie princesa, you don’t wanna get caught huh?” Whispering against the shell of your ear. You nod, focusing your eyes back on the film. Connie finally pulled those panties to the side to expose that sensitive skin. Fingers gliding through your folds with a low groan, spreading the pooling slick gathered around your entrance.

“What’s got this pussy all wet?” He hummed, giving your clit a soft slap. “Hm mamí? Thought you didn’t like scary movies..”

Fingers teasing slow circles around your clenching hole, so eager to be filled with his thick fingers. Coating his fingers in that clear sticky slick, just before slipping a fingertip into you barely easing that empty feeling and pulling it back out. Slowly stretching you out until he could fully sink two of them into your tight warm walls. Those thick digits slowly piston in and out of you, curling every so often as your walls gripped them in deeper. Moans growing louder as he scissored you open, “shh, gotta be quiet baby..”

“s-shit, connie I-I’m tryinggg..” biting down on your lip with a whimper, nails digging at his forearms. Body tensing at the quick movement from your bestfriend from afar, clamping down on his fingers hard. Just for her to adjust her pillow and lay back focused on the movieonce more, washing away all that fear of getting caught.

“calm down pretty girl, it’s just us.” connie cooed, placing a kiss behind your ear. Stroking your gummy walls, until faint squelching of your pussy could be heard below the loud screams of the film. That fiery pit set ablaze in your tummy as your clit throbs, grinding your hips down against his palm for any type of friction to ease the sensation. Curling his fingers into the spongey ball that made your hips buck up into his hand. “Yeah? Just like that?” He cooed, working messily on your slicked clit.

Walls swelling around his fingers, moaning out from the building pressure. Connie slipped two fingers in your mouth, pressing them down on your tongue as an attempt to keep you as quiet. “ I know, I know. You like when papí play with that pussy?” Head nodding rapidly, too afraid of what sound might break past your lips if you actually tried to speak with those thick digits pressed down on your tongue. “You so fucking good, so good pretty girl..”

Your eyes rolling back as your body shook in his hold uncontrollably, gushing out a creamy mess onto his fingers. The vibrations of your moans against his fingers had him ready to fuck you on the floor right there but it was about you. Swirling his fingers around your clit until he slowly brought you down from your orgasmic bliss. Your body limp in his hold, all fucked out and breathless.

Removing his digits and sucking off the creamy white slick with a moan, just as the movies end credits began to roll. Sasha flicking the lamp on with a quick pull at its string,your eyes squinting as they adjust to the sudden change in lighting, body still trembling slightly. Sasha looking over the room with a smile, dropping slightly when he eyes reached you. “You good girl..?”

You nod, mentally cursing yourself as you tried to sit up, cringing at the slicked feeling between your thighs. “She just shaken up, y’know how she get.” Connie snorted , taking all the attention off you.

Sasha giggles, hand on her hips as she teased you about your scary nature.

“c’mon it wasnt even that bad!”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

please please i’d like to request a carmy blurb with the dialogue prompt “Don't go on that date” ❤️

Divine Timing.

carmy berzatto x female reader

warnings - cursing

written for my 5k celebration - post here, masterlist here. inbox here.

He’s in a bad mood.

Technically, he’s always in a bad mood. But this is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

He’s screamed at Richie, belittled Marcus and pissed off Tina in the span of approximately five minutes, and everyone is tired. So, they enlist your help.

You speak fluent Carmy, Syd had said once. You’re the only one he listens to.

So, the next time he shouts, you shout back. Louder.

“Sydney, what the fuck are you doing?” he yells bitterly.

“Carmen, if you don’t stop fucking screaming, I’ll smack you so hard in front of everyone - I swear to fucking God.”

You yell back at a volume that shocks even Richie. The Beef stands still, everyone too afraid to move. Carmy is startled, stuck in place.

“We’re taking five,” you tell him, linking your fingers into his. “Come on.”

You drag him outside, sitting him down in his usual spot. You grab a water bottle and throw it at him, raising your eyebrows in a gesture that says drink it or else. He does as he’s told.

You let him wallow in the silence for a while, calming down slowly but surely. You look over, expecting to see him still angry, or frustrated. Instead, he just looks sad.

You move to sit next to him, turning your body so you can see his face clearly.

“What’s the matter, Carm? What’s got you so riled up today, hmm?”

“Nothin’” he replies, kicking his shoe into the ground. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Does matter. You can’t take your feelings out on everyone in the kitchen, you know. It isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

Your phone makes a noise, and you check the screen quickly before shoving it back in your pocket.

“Anyone important?”

“Nah. Just the guy I’m meant to be seeing later, checking in to see if I’m still good.”

Carmy tenses, whole body going rigid beside you. You feel it, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Listen, Carm. If you don’t wanna tell me what’s bothering you, then fine. But you’ve got to work it out in your own time - not in the fucking kitchen. Got it?”

He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he speaks.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Your head whips around in disbelief.

“What?”

He ducks his head, willing the ground to swallow him whole.

“Don’t go on that date. Please.”

“Is that… is that what’s got you all upset?”

He scoffs and immediately regrets it, looking at you with softness in his eyes that’s rare as diamonds.

“Yeah.”

“Carmen… why?”

He takes a deep breath, gaze never leaving yours.

“It’s been eating me up, the idea of you going out with some guy. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but… I didn’t want it to be awkward, when you didn’t feel the same way. We work together, we see each other every day, and I didn’t wanna fuck up our friendship.”

“So… you took your anger out on everyone else?”

“Yeah, fuck. I didn’t mean to. Think I just bottled up my feelings too much.”

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?”

Carmy chokes on his breath, staring at you in disbelief.

“You… wait- what?”

“Anyone can see that I like you, Carm. I have since the day I met you and you flashed me one of those million dollar smiles of yours.”

He gives you one now, all bright and bashful.

“This is the last time anything like this happens, you hear me? From now on, you talk to me. And I’ll talk to you. It goes both ways.”

He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Here’s the deal, Berzatto. You go in there and apologise individually to each and every person you’ve been a dick towards today, and I’ll cancel my date with the douchebag I didn’t wanna see anyway.”

“And you’ll date me instead.”

You laugh, head thrown back and eyes crinkling.

“Fine. But only if the apologies are super heartfelt.”

He shakes his head, chuckling from deep within his chest. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at me back there. I needed it.”

You smile, leaning into him.

“You’re so welcome.”

“It was super hot, too.”

“Shut up, Berzatto,” you chide, but you can’t fight the grin that etches itself on your face.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— seven

SUMMARY : dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester, donna handscum

WARNINGS : smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, losers), fluff, the plot is abandoned :’(

WORD COUNT : 5.2k

A/N : yes, seven by jungkook. this fills the square for new position on my @jacklesversebingo card. this position is called ‘rocking horse’, lmao, very hot

She was staring at the screen of her laptop, every link was now purple instead of blue from having explored them all on her journey to research all there was to know about the Egyptian goddess Taweret. Still, she found nothing on how to weaken, stop, or kill the hippo. Taweret’s distorted usage of her abilities was getting too out of hand.

Too many pregnant people. Too many old people getting young again. Especially couples. For now, at least, that’s all that’s happened. 

Typically Sam, Dean, and Y/N dealt with the killing, the death, and the blood, but Donna managed to pick this up on her own and called the brothers for backup because it was starting to get way too ridiculous—terrifying, really. Reapers were overwhelmed and while the Winchesters and Y/N didn’t really care about how they were feeling, it was a major problem—when speaking about the universal rules: what is, what should be, what was, what should never be, etcetera. 

Unfortunately, the research has led to no real or useful information for how to stop the Goddess, not even how to kill her. And once Dean started to hum Travelling Riverside Blues while shaking his leg impatiently in the fourth hour, she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore.

Now that same song was stuck in her head and she glared at her laptop while trying to get a different song to replace Led Zeppelin’s in her mind. It wasn’t a bad song, but it got irritating, and every song somehow morphed right back to Travelling Riverside Blues. Her and Dean had been so good about focusing on the research, but sometimes one of them always made it impossible for the other to maintain that amount of silence and focus around each other. 

It usually started with some small conversations: How’s the research going? Have you found anything yet? Hey, remember when…? Are you hungry? I’m kinda hungry. Aren’t you tired? And so on. 

Then there were glances. From a distance, they’d stare at each other when the other isn’t looking, wondering if enough time has passed to not feel guilty for wanting to take a break. They’d smile to themselves, catching cute little habits in body language or facial expressions. 

Sometimes—most of the time—there was some sexualisation. If she’s wearing a skirt or a dress, he’d stare at the curve of her legs in some really sexy heels. He’d wish to have them wrapped around his waist as he fucks her or thrown over his shoulders with his face buried between her legs. He’d have to subtly place a hand over his crotch and hope his erection would go away or stop getting harder. 

If the neck of her clothes was low enough to show some cleavage, he’d spend his time analysing the size of them, the roundness and perkiness of them in the clothes she wore. Or remembering the way they felt in his hands, warm and soft, and the way she looked so hot when he’d tease her sensitive nipples with his fingers, the noises she made playing in his head until he was hot and red in the face.

And his mind would drift endlessly to the memory of her naked body. The perfect dip of her waist when he holds her there and the way she squirms when he does it. The softness of her skin when his hands and his mouth are exploring, sucking, licking, biting, tasting her as his mouth waters hungrily; touching, squeezing, scraping, possibly bruising her body so she could always remember him. So she could always feel him and where he had been. 

He’d stare at her hands as she typed away at the laptop, expertly pressing the keys with those swift and elegant fingers of her. She’d keep her nails relatively short and occasionally did them nicely. Currently, they were painted a mossy green colour that matched the gem of the silver ring she wore, one he’d picked out for her. Both of them knew the nail polish wouldn’t last, but he liked when she felt beautiful, it somehow made her a billion times more beautiful. 

It was the memory of them slowly moving across his body, worshipping while soft and sometimes cold, smaller than his, that made him bite his lip. Even the gentle caresses to his face when he was on the brink of breaking apart into dust in grief and despair. Her hand in his whenever they went somewhere, while they slept, in the Bunker, in the Impala, during sex. 

If he’s rolled up the sleeves of a white dress shirt, she’ll stare at the way the material stretches over his chest and broad shoulders, tightening around his arms when he flexes his hands and arms as a result of a cramp or the like. With that tiny fucking waist of his accentuated by the shirt tucked into his slacks, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to fuck him senseless or hold him gently in her arms. 

If he walked around to get a beer, she’d stare at the tightness of the black slacks over his ass, over his strong thighs when he’d bend over to reach down for the bottle. She’d have to hold back a moan and squeeze her thighs together to stop herself from jumping his bones or actually moaning out loud. 

Even his fucking fingers turned her on. It was fucking annoying, when he’d brush his thumb across his plump bottom lip to swipe away droplets of beer. It was embarrassing the way her walls clenched around nothing just at the memory of having his thick fingers inside her, pushing and stroking, quick and steadfast. Her panties soaked through with arousal with every bit of motion from his hands. Even when he’s cleaning their weapons. 

But the one thing that truly made her lose her mind were his lips. They were so distracting. All the time. Whenever he speaks, her eyes are glued on his lips, but he doesn’t think much of it because she does it often with everyone in order to focus on what they’re saying. He just doesn’t understand how much that doesn’t work for her when it’s his lips she’s looking at. 

All she can think about is how kissable they look, how soft they’d feel against hers, and how funny it would be if she just kissed him mid-sentence. He’d have that cute, bewildered, but pleased look on his face. He bit them often when he was deep in thought, slowly releasing it, turning it red and swollen, just slightly covered in his spit. 

He had the cutest habits with his mouth. Puckering them when he’s eating, pouting all the time, sometimes he said certain words they’d pout even more, and when he was pissed or focused. And then he did that model thing with his lips, leaving them slightly parted as he stared at nothing or was considering something seriously. 

He was fucking delicious. And that mouth of his was ridiculously talented. Really, very yummy…

It was unfair that he looked as sinful and as fuckable as he did without having to try. Even after waking up, with his soft hair spiked up in some places and flat in others. When his voice was thick and hot with sleep and he’d murmur half-irritated words if he was woken too early, or hot and loving things being mumbled against her ear when he was in a mood. 

After all that staring and longing, there would be trips to the fridge, when either one of them grabbed snacks for the other. Hands and fingers brushing against each other when passing over the snacks or drinks. Little smiles were exchanged and yearning sparkled in their eyes, but neither of them did or said anything about it, so the tension grew and grew. 

Maybe one of them might get closer to the other, pretending to curiously look at the work they were doing. Slowly, their eyes would drift innocently to each other and there would be an exchange of teasing and amused smiles. And then they’d bring their laptop or books closer and stay there, slowly legs would start to touch each other. 

It was like a circuit of lust. The endless tensions and the electricity that made them shiver, skin prickling, hair sticking up; for her: nipples tightening and tingly cunt dampening her panties; for him: cock stirring, slowly hardening and straining in his boxers. Their breaths became noticeably heavier and their eyes would be heavy with desire, and their arms and hands would touch to increase the voltage on each other’s skin until they just couldn’t take it and had to do something about it. 

They weren’t quite there yet, but they were both thinking about it. They already knew themselves and how things progressed from years of being together. It was nice.

“This is so fucking boring!” Dean whined abruptly, throwing his head back and running his hands down his face. “We shoulda stayed with Sammy and Donna to talk to witnesses.” He slumped down in his chair with a pout and then turned to look at his girlfriend who pursed her lips to stop a smile from spreading across her tinted lips. 

“You told Sam your knee was still hurting from the last hunt and wanted to come back here,” she reminded him with a laugh, moving the laptop off her lap to twist her torso left and right until the crack of her spine made her sigh happily.

“Yeah, well now my ass hurts, too,” he complained, arching his back in the chair and flattening his hands down his backside as it became numb. 

“Then stop sitting and walk around for a bit,” she suggested, stretching her legs underneath the table so their feet knocked against each other. 

“Ugh, fine,” he grunted petulantly, tapping his foot against hers in retaliation before getting up. He shut his laptop, taking the now-warm beer on the table with him. He squatted for a few seconds and she laughed through her nose, stretching in the chair while she watched him try to ease the pain on his butt from sitting. 

“Fuck, this feels so good… and painful, all at once,” he chuckled, pursing his lips so his little dimples appeared above his lips. He hissed when he strained his sore knee and then sighed when he was satisfied. When he stood up straight, he scrunched up his cute nose when something popped pleasantly, and slapped his own ass with both hands—at the same time. 

“Better?” She asked with a grin. 

“Not really,” he frowned dramatically, hunching his back. 

“Aw, come ‘ere then, sweetheart.” She mimicked his pout, moved her chair back from the table and patted her lap. “Come sit on daddy’s lap,” she said with a grin, then snorted. He let out a loud laugh and stood up straight again, placing his beer back on the table to make his way onto her lap. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re heavy,” she whispered playfully when he sat on her legs. 

“Shudup,” he said with a soft laugh, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to play with her hair and resting his over hand on her waist, his thumb brushing back and forth distractedly. 

“So, how’s it going?” She asked, a soft smile growing on her lips as she looked up at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, intertwining her fingers to keep her hands from slipping away. 

“I’m bored,” he mumbled, lifting his hand from her waist to play with the thin strap of her red dress. 

“Yeah, you said that.” She stared at him for a moment, watching the way his eyes drifted from her hair, to her shoulder, and finally her breasts. 

“Do you have any idea how much I wanna fuck you?” Dean asked unexpectedly, his eyes snapping back up to hers to capture her reaction. She blinked at him in astonishment, a smile slowly growing on her face. “How much I’ve wanted to bend you over every counter we’ve come across?” He murmured, cupping the back of her head to gently tilt her head back, her lips parting and her heartbeat rising in response. She tightened her entwined fingers, staring into both of his eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers. “How badly I wanna taste you? Kiss your lips? And touch every inch of your sexy body?” 

“Dean,” she uttered breathily. 

He smirked, teasing her by keeping his face inches away from hers, refusing her the pleasure of a kiss. His fingers slipped away from the strap of her dress to sneak into the top, but as his hands turned downward to cup her breasts, his fingers brushed against coarse material.

“Fucking boobtape,” he whispered and she laughed.

“My tits have to stay up somehow and not slip out if I have to fight,” she reasoned, feeling his fingers start to pick at the sticky tape. “Plus, a bra won’t make this dress look very nice. I mean… it’s got you this needy and hard...” She bit her lip and untangled her fingers to slide a hand between his legs. He became stiff and his breath hitched when she patted his hardening dick. “Get off me,” she murmured lightheartedly, letting him go completely. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” he stammered, swiftly standing up off her lap. 

He’d barely straightened up in front of her when she was starting to pull at the dark green tie to bring his lips down to hers in a rough kiss. He all but moaned against her mouth, grasping her hips desperately to pull the thin and silky cloth up so it bunched up at her waist, exposing some seamless, red panties that nearly matched the softness of the blood-red dress. 

“Bed,” she murmured airily against his lips. 

Dean nodded and quickly pressed his lips against hers again, moving with her as she made her way backwards, his hands groping and touching her body, hers pulling and tugging at his hair, their teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths. Lost in eachother, she ended up pressed against the wall with his knee shoved between her legs.

He pulled away, just to keep teasing her, “think I can make you cum on my thigh again?” He kissed down her jawline, his stubble tickling her soft skin, setting her nerves alight when he got to her neck, kissing softly and gently nipping at her pulse. 

“I don’t doubt it,” she moaned, tilting her head back for him to stay there longer. He began rocking his knee back and forth, wrapped his arm around her waist and jutted her hips out slightly to position her perfectly on the tensing muscle of his thigh. 

She grabbed at his hips with both hands and gasped at the friction on her clit. She started to roll her hips to match his movements, fumbling with his belt, struggling only because he wouldn’t keep still and her hands were shaking with desire, but she got it off eventually. 

He pulled away from her before she could unbutton his pants and she pouted at him.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap,” he mocked her words from earlier with a laugh, sitting down on the bed. He patted his thigh for her to continue riding, and while the thought of that was hot, she was hung up on him calling himself daddy, even if it was a joke.  

“Ewww,” she complained, holding back laughter. Still, she made her way between his legs and straddled one of his thighs, kissing his cheeks and forehead rather than plopping down and riding his thigh. 

“Can I take the titty tape off?” He asked, lowering the neck of her dress to peek at the tape that matched her skin tone. She nodded, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, and settled onto his thigh, busying herself with loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“What if I tattoo your name on my body?” She murmured. Dean shifted his gaze away from her chest to look at her inquisitively, blindly and carefully peeling off the tape from the skin of her breast. “Not a tacky tattoo, maybe Times New Roman, font size 10,” she replied playfully, dropping a chaste kiss to his parted lips.

“Oh,” he uttered shyly, and stayed quiet for a couple of moments. “Where?” He finally asked, giving her time to think before moving to her other breast to remove the tape there. She pondered for a while and then shrugged.

“Maybe… my finger,” she answered, wiggling her middle finger mischievously at him—as if flipping him off. He laughed at her, balled up the tape now that he was done, and threw it on the floor. 

“No….” He disagreed gently, grabbing her hand to close her fist, then kissed her knuckles. She bit her lip, smiling shyly when he looked up at her through his thick lashes. 

“No?” She questioned, rolling her hips against his thigh, her knee gently brushing against his erection. He shook his head and moaned, leaning forward to press hot and wet kisses along her neck. 

“Maybe here,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping at her pulse point. She gasped and squirmed against his thigh, fisting his white t-shirt in one hand and burying her fingers into his hair with the other. “Or here,” he suggested, squeezing her breast, “maybe here would be better,” he added, then slapped her ass hard enough for her to yelp and jump. 

“All three of those places, then?” She teased breathlessly, rolling her hips slowly and sensually. He sucked softly at her clavicle, then dropped a few kisses onto her breasts. 

“Definitely,” he approved, dragging his lips up to her shoulders, letting his mouth push away the thin straps of her dress. “My favourite places.” She chuckled, squirming impatiently on his thigh. She guided his lips back up to hers by tugging at the short strands of his hair, choosing to nibble on his lip teasingly until he crashed his mouth against hers. “Need you…” he whispered between needy kisses, and slowly started to lift her dress upwards.

While she removed the dress, he shrugged off the white dress shirt, struggled a little when the sleeve got caught around his watch. “Fucken…” he grunted, unbuttoning the cuff with irritation.

“Don’t worry, baby, I love taking my time with you,” she laughed, pulling the t-shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants.

“Well, me personally? I don’t wanna have to pull out halfway through sex because Sammy’s on his way back. Not again,” he said seriously, lifting his arms to help her remove his shirt. She gave him an empathetic smile which quickly turned into an amused one when she remembered how uncomfortable and sensitive he had been the rest of the day. “It’s not funny, I was about to come, but fucken Sam had to text…” he pouted, then smiled when she started to laugh. 

“Yeah… as funny as that was, I really need to come right now,” she conceded and climbed off his lap to remove her underwear. Dean reached out excitedly for them, playfully brushing her hands out of the way to pull her underwear down swiftly. 

“I want you to come, too,” he said, licking his lips. She laughed quietly, holding his shoulders for balance, lifting her knee up so he could take her underwear off completely. “On my dick, though, not in my thigh,” he clarified, immediately pulling her back into him. 

He dropped impatient kisses along her waist, forcing her to climb onto the bed on her knees, before moving his mouth upwards, his hands exploring her smooth body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to steady her breath. She held him close to her, let him slowly pull her down onto his lap until their hips met. 

“Dean, you gotta get your pants off,” she sighed. 

“Stay,” he breathed, rolling his hips up into hers as a promise of what he’d give her. She moaned in surprise, whining when he pulled away and spread his legs, forcing her to do the same. Cool air passed between her soaked folds and she gasped.

Awkwardly, he fumbled with his slacks’ button between their bodies, careful not to make her shift or fall back with his brisk and eager movements. He shoved the pants down his legs, boxers sliding down right along with them, and kicked them off his feet.

He didn’t care about doing it properly and immediately drew her close to him when he heard the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. She laughed against his mouth, reached down between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock. 

He cursed softly against her mouth, grabbed her hips roughly and moved her hastily onto her back. It didn’t stop her from playing with him, teasing him by rubbing the hot and hard length of him through her folds. When she made a ring with her forefinger and thumb, he roughly sank his teeth into her shoulder and groaned loudly, freezing at the overwhelming pleasure of her fingers tightening around him and moving upwards in precise twists.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, “shouldn’t have… told you I like—ah, shit!” He jolted, bucking his hips involuntarily when she started to massage underneath the head of his cock, nearly losing himself and nearly giving into the threat of his orgasm. “No.. wait,” he whined, weakly stopping her with his hands around her wrist.

“You sound so fucking hot when I do that,” she chuckled, “you know I can’t help myself, Dean.” Still, she let go of him and licked her fingers clean of the precum that coated them. 

“I have something in mind,” he started suggestively, placing a rough kiss on her lips. She hummed softly and sucked on his lip, watching him move down her body with his lips and hands. He pulled away from her completely and positioned himself in the centre of the bed, patting the spot between his legs. 

“You and your slutty little imagination,” she teased, crawling up to him. She parted his thighs, kissed along the inside of his soft—slightly scarred—skin and licked up a stripe of the underside of his cock. He groaned, reaching out for her arm when she twirled her tongue around the leaking tip, sucking gently on the soft head. 

“Enough of that, beautiful,” he murmured, tugging her upwards by her arm and away from his dick. She pouted, letting go of his cock with a loud and obscenely wet pop that made him groan. “Lean back,” he instructed delicately, licking his lips when she brushed her wet lips against his teasingly. 

With a small ‘okay’, she complied, leaning back with her hands flat behind her on the bed, her two thighs resting on either side of him. “Now, what?” Dean wrapped his hands around her knees instead of replying, and started to bend them upwards. She wiggled around slightly, moving with him and bit her lip when he slid his hands beneath her knees to hold her waist. 

One of his hands migrated from her waist to wrap around his cock, guiding himself slowly and teasingly through her folds. She became flustered, staring at him with her knees bent over his forearms.

“This is…” she trailed off, cheeks red and heart beating wildly behind the cage of her ribs. 

“Very hot,” Dean finished for her. He let go of his cock just to reach over to the bedside table where his phone was resting. She looked curious at him, thinking maybe he’d check on Sam before they got started, but instead he opened the camera and swiped until he was on the video recording section. “Is this okay, babe?” He asked, gazing back into her eyes, his thumb hovering over the red button. 

“Yeah, D.” She nodded, chewing shyly on her lips. “Do you have way more videos of us fucking than of us doing.. ya know, cute romantic shit?” She asked, not caring that he was already recording. He scoffed, positioning the camera to capture her dripping folds, her breasts, and the bottom half of her face rather than his body.

“This is romantic,” he told her matter-of-factly. 

“Mm, yeah.. right,” she snickered and lifted herself up using the strength of her arms so she could then lower herself on his cock. 

“You don’t think so?” He grunted, watching lewdly as he stretched her pussy open, slowly disappearing inside her warmth. “I think it’s pretty romantic, watchin’ videos of how I fucked you… jerking off to them when I miss you. Listening to how needy and desperate you get for me when you’re about to come…” He explained explicitly, holding her waist tightly, when their hips met completely. 

“It’s not just about the sex, baby,” he added, gazing into her eyes. She bit her lip and slowly started to lift herself back up again. “It’s about how it makes me feel. How you make me feel. It’s about time. Makin’ you mine, givin’ myself to you, lovin’ you, you lovin’ me in return, us.. being vulnerable.” She squeezed around him tightly and sank back down, her gaze soft. “It’s romantic that there’s no adios afterward, nothin’ for us to hide from each other during, just you and me barin’ our souls to one another… it’s about us.” He pulled her even closer just to kiss her passionately. Her thighs were practically pressed against the front of her body, somehow he managed to sink deeper into her, and he rocked his hips upwards so her clit brushed against his pelvic bone.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, moving one arm to wrap her arm around his neck instead. He smiled against her mouth, and blindly set the phone down on the nightstand, skilfully getting enough in the shot without much fumbling. 

“C’mon, baby, you said you needed to come…” he whispered against her jawline, “so make yourself cum.” Dutifully, she began moving a little faster, trying to find a perfect cadence in this new position. 

He mouthed at the skin of her neck and chest that he could reach, careful to leave very light marks so she could wear that sexy little dress again, and let her take control of everything. Almost immediately, she was able to move at the perfect pace, towards her orgasm and his.

Gasps and grunts, moaning and groaning, they held onto each other trying to bring each other toward their orgasms unhurriedly. She tipped her head back and tried to pull him impossibly close. With the impact of their hips, her clit was stimulated with a pleasant grind of his hips moving upwards, and this time, rather than doing what they always did—slowing down when they were close to extend the proximity of their organs, increasing the intensity of it—he breathily encouraged her to keep going. 

He mindlessly praised her and confessed his love like he always did when he was close, meeting her thrusts far gentler than she was. Still, with one hand behind her and the other in his hair, she tugged on the hairs at the top of his head hard enough to make him moan loudly. His bruising grip on her waist didn’t let up, and his blunt nails dug into her back, waiting for her to cum before he could.

A few more strokes of his cock against her g-spot had her walls pulsing around him, gasping and panting his name, and pressing her forehead against his shoulder as her orgasm finally crashed over her. 

She dropped kisses along his shoulder and neck, shuddering from her orgasm, and with a loud grunt of her name, Dean came inside of her. Slowly, they stopped moving and tried to catch their breaths while holding each other closely. She played with his hair and he soothed her bruised waist with calloused palms, then leaned forward all the way until she was laying on her back to kiss her face lovingly.

“Porn worthy?” She teased quietly, resting her hands on his waist waiting as he made a cute path along her face with kisses to reach her lips.

“I could go a second round,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, still buried deep inside her. She groaned softly and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to keep moving, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss anything vulgar he was about to say. 

Dean froze above her when he heard footsteps from outside their hotel room, pleading internally that it was random people passing by, but deflated when he heard Sam speak to Donna. “…I hope they found something.” 

“Shit!” Y/n whispered, trying to push Dean off her when the doorknob began to rattle, but Dean didn’t budge, knowing it was no use and wanting to use his body as a shield. 

“Well, the jig is up,” he joked, watching her throw her arms over her chest instead, glaring at him half-heartedly. 

“Dean, your phone!” She reminded him, but Dean shrugged just as Sam swung the door open and stopped mid-sentence with Donna exclaiming some sort of phrase in surprise. Y/n would have laughed at whatever it was she said—Donna’s refusal to actually say a swear word—but she just groaned in annoyance.

“Seriously, guys? Every time!” Sam shouted, apologising to Donna quietly who brushed it off with a quiet ‘it’s okay’. 

Donna sneaked one tiny glimpse at the naked couple just as Sam turned around for them to get dressed. Dean smirked smugly and winked at Donna, then looked away to watch as he pulled out of his girlfriend, their cum spilling out of her. His cock was hard again and Y/n shook her head, waiting for Dean to get the phone and get moving.

“You do realise that it could've been Taweret making you guys…” Sam scolded, filling the silence up as Dean gathered their clothes. Donna blushed and turned around as well, grateful that Sam didn’t mention her hesitation in turning around sooner. 

“Uh,” Y/n stammered, pulling her clothes on when Dean handed it to her. 

“You have a point, Sammy, but we usually do this, anyway, so…” Dean spoke up, giving Y/n a hand so she could stand on slightly shaky legs beside him. “‘sides, I did find something…” Dean announced, pointing to his laptop on the table. With a hard slap on Y/n’s ass, Dean walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up, grasping her small hand with his to bring her with him. 

“Sorry,” Y/n laughed, apologetically bowing her head before following Dean to get herself cleaned up as well. As she walked, she could feel Dean’s cum drip out of her, her panties wet and cool between her legs made her uncomfortable but she kept them on, washing her hands with Dean standing next to her doing the same.

“Well, they’re still cute,” Donna said brightly, trying to brighten Sam’s sour mood, but it only worsened when he opened Dean’s laptop and the open tab was a sex page with a list of positions to try. 

“Seriously, Dean? Close the damn tabs!” 

“Whoops,” Dean snickered, gazing at Y/n who only rolled her eyes at him, affectionately smiling. “Gonna play this video real loud tonight,” he whispered with a grin, shaking his phone in his hand, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. 

“That’s really funny, but no,” she chuckled, bringing him down for a soft kiss when he pouted at her childishly. 

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[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n claims to hate Oscar and be constantly annoyed by him, but is the first to comfort Oscar when something bad happens

this is so me core. you are inside my mind anon, ily.

tw: fem!reader, swears, reader takes a trip to egypt to visit a famous river! lmk if you want me to add anything. kinda half proof read ig.

w/c: 863

you were unsure why mclaren even invited you to their garage anymore, after all you did was say how much you hate their australian driver. you never shut up about how much he annoys you and how he constantly thinks he's the shit when he's not. the other mclaren driver has teased you multiple time for never shutting up about him. "for someone who claims to hate him, you're constantly yapping on about him." comes along with that stupid teasing smirk and you then think that the mclaren drivers are your least favourite on the grid.

but by some miracle, you were invited to watch the austrian grand prix with the famous papaya. the free practise and sprint had gone amazingly for the two young drivers. of course it had, the team was on fire at the moment and was getting everything right.

coming off the back of a double podium in the sprint for the boys, they had the race qualifying. now as much as you claimed to hate oscar you could admit that he was a pretty great driver, especially for his second year in f1.

you watch as both of the brightly coloured cars race around the track, their times through q1 and q2 were amazing, but max was just a step above. if mclaren were flying then god knows what max was doing.

you watch as the cars return to the garage and prepare for the most important of them all, q3. lando rushes over to give you a high five which, although it confuses you a little, you are quick to respond. you stay clear of oscar who watches the interaction from his side of the garage. you take your protective headphones off to chat to lando for a second before his race engineer is quick to steal him away. you leave oscar alone as you wait for the beginning of q3.

your headphones are back on as q3 starts. you watch as the cars take their turns racing around the track. you feel like your heart has sunk down to your stomach as you watch the orange enter the pits, before leaving again soon after. as the qualifying comes to close, you are embarrassed to say that as you seen oscar's name slip into second place, right in between lando and max, you felt ecstatic. you would never tell anyone though.

just as that feeling was about to settle in your guts for the rest of the day, it's ripped away from you harshly. or ripped away from oscar, you should say as seconds later his lap time is deleted for exceeding track limits. you feel a burst of anger and frustration race through you as you watch the screens and see his name slide down to seventh. you felt like crying so you could not imagine how oscar felt. you knew it was the sport but god the fia got on your tits sometimes.

you watch as max, lando and george converse with each other waiting for their interviews and you feel bitter as fuck. that should've been oscar. speaking of him, you see his papaya race suit, with that all too familiar helmet walking into where the fia worked to speak with him. you watch as the camera man follows him halfway then retreats. you want to find oscar so badly, you don't think you can wait until he's out of there.

around ten minutes later you catch sight of him, probably heading towards another interview. you head over to him and watch as he retells his feelings to another reporter, explaining how it was from the drivers point of view.

once you are sure he is finished with his interviews you pull him aside to a quiet corner of the mclaren garage, semi-private. it is was as private you could get with cameras all around the place.

"you alright?" you whisper to the boy. oscar's eyebrows jump up in surprise as you ask him about how he is feeling, the question very unexpected from you seeing how much you tell everyone how much he annoys you.

"yeah, nothing i can do about it now. fia have done what they thought was right even though i don't agree. just have to do my best tomorrow to improve on that." oscar tells you, his back straight and tense. you frown, if he was trying to hide his feelings he was failing miserably. the australian was an open book to you. you hum, clearly not believing his response.

"why don't we go somewhere where isn't a shitload of cameras and you can tell me how you really feel?" you ask, voice soft and kind. it's the first time oscar has been on the receiving end of this kindness and it makes all the screws click into place in his brain. the boy grins at you.

"please. that would be great." his smile is enough to make you smile as you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, walking alongside him to the driver rooms. you might have done a good job hiding your feelings from everyone else but oscar was smarter than you gave him credit for.

[james-bucky-barnackle]

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you. 

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.” 

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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[writingbyshiloh]

Third Time's the Charm

Request: Hii,if your request are still open can i request something for Gen V?Can you write something where Jordan and fem reader are childhood best friends and Jordan had always been in love with her but they feel insecure because they don’t know if reader will like them in both forms romantically?So when,in ep 3,Jordan dad goes like “Y/n and Jordan will be husband and wife” reader goes “Maybe we will be wife and wife”because she loves Jordan just like they are?

AN: Reader wants to be the first supe president (just to explain why they’re at the gala), I changed the timeline of the ep a tiny bit. I have another request about meeting Jordan's parents but that one might be more angsty.

CW: fem!reader, kissing, no beta, Jordan's parents are just their warning. The start is all flashbacks so I may have slipped on the tense a few times, no beta

WC: 2.0K

Jordan Li was your first kiss. Twice. The first time was in kindergarten, when they tried to kiss you and you smacked them with your Queen Mauve lunch box. Your second first kiss (the one you consider your actual first kiss) was done by you while playing truth or dare at 14. After picking a dare, you were asked to kiss the best-looking guy in the group. You shrugged and picked your best friend - Jordan. 

At age six, they were there when you broke your ankle trying to see if you could fly (you couldn’t). When you did get powers, they were the first person you told.

When Jordan came out to you as bigender, you did an internet deep-dive, trying to understand as much as possible.

Jordan listened to every interaction you had with your high school crush while quietly dying inside, wanting you to be happy. When your high school boyfriend cheated on you and then dumped you for the girl he cheated with, Jordan was there, ready to sink hours into their Xbox to keep you distracted.

The worst week of your life was when you didn't speak to Jordan for 9 whole days. You got into a petty argument where you called them self-absorbed and they called you clingy. The fight snowballed into yelling arguments and ended with you receiving a cold shoulder from Jordan. 

When Jordan got their wisdom teeth removed, you camped out in their room, snuggled under their duvet with them to watch Property Brothers for two days straight. You even made sure they took their painkillers on time and used ice packs.

Every fight with their parents, you were outside in your car ready to pick up Jordan to stay with you. Once you showed up at their house at 6:03 am, eyes blurry with sleep and still in pyjamas. Jordan was crying, bob haircut looked messy from sleep. You drove them to Vought-A-Burger, still half asleep and ate greasy breakfast sandwiches in your car until Jordan stopped crying. 

Jordan was even your date to prom, taking photos with you in their masculine form to get their parents off their back. Once their parents were happy, you snuck them back to yours, where you stashed their prom dress. 

You both even applied to God U together. Too nervous to check your acceptance, Jordan checked yours and you checked theirs. Sitting across from each other on your bed you both log in before giving the laptops to each other.

“Okay, three, two, one…” you counted down, opening Jordan’s laptop. Your eyes scanned for any promising words like congratulations, or welcome. "Accepted" was the first word your eyes caught but you need to fuck with them.

“Jord… I’m so sorry.” You start. Their face falls, and you feel like a dick for doing this. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. “That you believed me! Because you got in!”

They lunged across your bed to see what the screen says. You saw Jordan's eyes scan the same letter you just read, picking out the same words. 

“You’re such an asshole!” they told you, rolling their eyes, gently hitting your arm with the back of their hand

You’ve never been shy about showering Jordan with compliments. Saved in screenshots never to see the light of day, Jordan has kept some of them. 

You: OMG!!! Jordan you’re so pretty. I’m so lucky to call you my friend. 

You: You’re so handsome!!! I love your hair slicked back! If she doesn’t agree you need to drop her. 

You: ur a solid 9/10. Lost a point for not giving me a sip of your drink yesterday lol

Jordan Li has been in love with you since age 16. Probably earlier, if they want to admit that to themselves. You’ve only ever expressed interest in men so they kept their feelings to themselves, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, figuring it was better to have you as a friend only than not at all. 

In your first year, you were even roommates. While Jordan flourished in crim, you bounced between majors before settling into politics.

Every time you brought some frat guy to your shared dorm, Jordan died inside. Trying to get over their long-standing crush, Jordan did the same.

When Jordan made number 2 on the top five, you celebrate with them. Maybe a bit too hard that night.

You were there when their ranking dropped after the death of Brink. A man you only met twice, but you would do anything for Jordan. Especially given how hard you fell for both versions of them last year.

“I’m going to try to tag team with your dad, get some points for you and keep him engaged, yeah?” You ask over your shocker. Jordan is behind you, ready to help with zipper duty for your dress.

“You don’t have to.”

You let out a small scoff. “Dude. I’m doing poli supe. Schmoozing with rich people is like half our courses. Zip me up please.”

“How long have you known Jordan? You seem to be a good couple.” The man you and Jordan's dad suckered into a conversation asks. He's sitting beside Jordan's parents, while you and Jordan are on the edge of some fancy pit or table. 

“Well, these two have known each other pretty well over the years. Jordan tried to kiss her when they were kids, and she hit him with her Black Noir lunch box.”

“It was a Queen Mauve lunch box, actually.” You say with a laugh.

“And she called him ‘Jojo’ for probably the next two years out of spite.” Kayla laughs. It's a special embarrassment when your parents tell stories about your childhood. All the stories are about you but it's been so long ago you can’t remember any of it. Jordan looks worse off, slouchy posture against the banister, while you sit next to him. Part of you wants to tell him to sit up straight, but you figure you can play the grief angle better this way. 

“Oh, and remember when Jordan got his wisdom teeth out? You guys were inseparable. I think I still have the photo of you two passed out watching TV!” Kayla gushes, reaching for her phone to find the photo.

“We all thought you two would be president and First Gentleman.” Dad insists. Your smile is fake and tight, knowing if Paul pulls out prom photos, you would have to quietly fling yourself out of a window. 

Maybe you drank a bit too much liquid courage. Maybe the tension between them and their parents was getting to you. To give Jordan some space, you took their parents for a tour of your classes, knowing they’ll be talking to your family when they go back to Rochester.

Jordan shifting doesn’t even cause you to raise an eyebrow, the subtle sound just blurs into the background.

“Or president and First Lady.” You blurt out, four pairs of eyes darting towards you. “First supes in the Whitehouse? It would be political dynamite.”

“You like this version of Jordan?” Dad asks with bewilderment.

“Of course. I like Jordan because of how smart and driven they are. I like Jordan because of their weird sense of humour. It doesn’t matter what they look like.” you say, trying to prove it to their parents, but also to them. You’ve picked up on their crush many times, too kind to say something that would embarrass them or hurt them. It’s only recently how much you found yourself staring at fem Jordan and wanting to kiss her too. 

“I’m going to go and mingle some more.” says the man, Brad or Rob maybe. You forgot his name right after you met him. His words are like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. You don’t confess your feelings to Jordan just to Jordan, but in front of their judgy parents, and a possible donner. You need to go. 

You stand and straighten out your dress. 

“I’m going to go too. Other donors to talk to. Go Jordan!" You finish with an awkward laugh and even more cringy go team! gesture by yourself. 

You didn't lie to Jordan and their parents. You did go and talk to other donors but it twists your stomach every time you bring up how amazing their grades are, or how skillful they are at fighting. After donor number three gives you an answer that technically was “we’ll see” but heavily implied to be "yes for Jordan” you went to hide in the bathroom. You have enough battery left on your V-phone to keep it going for most of the night. Tomorrow you can talk to Jordan and hope you don’t fuck it all up. 

You barely look up when the door opens, already have done too much for the day to care who it is. 

‘Hey, can we talk?” You snap to attention at the voice. Of course, you know that voice. It's Jordan, still feminine presenting. 

“Fuck, Jord, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have spring that on you. I promise I’ll just go back and try to get you some votes, you’re going through a lot.” You say, in a rush to get the words out, desperate not to fuck up you’re friendship. The rim of the sink is hard against your back but you can’t help but shrink into it. 

“Did you mean it?” They ask, still keeping a distance from you.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t want to ruin this friendship.”

“No, what you said in front of my parents.” 

Oh right. Your confession. Fuck. It's already out there, might as well keep it going. 

“I may, uh-” you curse yourself for leaving your drink outside the bathroom, wanting something in your hands to stall. “-have a crush. On you. My best friend.” You twist your hands together, wishing Jordan didn’t look so pretty. If your heart beats any faster you may go into cardiac arrest. 

It's Jordan that indicates your third first kiss. It's gentle, and fast, like the second one. She pulls back quickly, but you run your fingers through her hair and pull her closer. The intensity from the first first kiss is still there, only this time you both share it. Her hand smooths up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek in a silent invitation to open your mouth. You comply, and tilt your head into her palm. Her tongue sweeps into your mouth and you can taste the champagne they were drinking. 

The sound of the door opening makes you both jump.

“Stall?” You ask, voice low and hushed. You squirm out from where she has you between the sink and her. You push the door open to the nicest-looking stall, desperate to keep kissing Jordan. They follow your lead eagerly, one hand wrapped around your shoulder to keep you near. 

Dipping their head, they softly kiss your jaw before moving onto your neck. You silently thank the other two women arguing in the bathroom so that your gasp goes unnoticed. Giving Jordan's hair a small tug, you pull them back up to you. The shit-eating grin they flash you makes you want to almost get caught again. 

Your free hand moves to their waist, trying to get as close to them as physically possible. 

You pull back slightly, wanting so desperately to get lost in the moment, but the commotion in the other stall is distracting. Plus you’re nosey.

Jordan frowns when you pull away, eyes scanning your face for something they did wrong. You shake your head and tip it over to the stall.

“The fuck?” They mouth to you, hand still around your shoulder.

You gently push Jordan against the door to give yourself space to squat down. You see two pairs of feet in the stall across the wall. You hear the voices quiet down, before the sound of someone peeing. You frown slightly, weird fetish to do at a memorial gala but you hear rumours about students into more fucked up shit. 

“We should get outta here.” You whisper to Jordan. 

“Weird place for our third first kiss.” Jordan whispers back. You reach around them to unlock the stall door. Third first kiss. You replay the words in your head, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. 

You gently push them out of the stall, trying to keep your laughs quiet as you both scurry past the other couple in the stall. 

[biteyoubiteme]

cola float

beomgyu x fem!reader

synopsis: 'just one more game,' only you can't wait for it to be over

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (m!rec), slight voyeurism, hair pulling, dom!beomgyu, orgasm denial (m! and f!rec), no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 2k

an: feedback is appreciated! this is apart of my float event! check out the other members fics not proofread sorry[float m.list]

[m.list]

for most of your off time with classes over for the summer you’ve sat on the couch rotting away, watching your favorite show or hanging out with your friends. Sometimes Beomgyu went along with you to dinner or even sat and watched a few episodes with you but he spent most of his free time playing on his pc.

your daily routine left little time and you rarely saw each other even when you lived in the same apartment and slept in the same bed. you didn’t find him coming to bed until late in the morning. both of your sleep schedules now completely thrown off and different from one another’s.

usually, it didn’t bother you. it wasn’t necessary to spend every waking moment with your significant other to be happy. it was necessary for you to receive attention at least once in the day before bed, at least a text. only you haven’t seen beomgyu all day, the sound of his replies to his friends is enough to tell you he’s alive and well. you know he’d eaten because when you were in the shower you came out to find the pantry door open a crack after he grabbed what he wanted.

Now it was late, the city lights telling you it was dark enough in the day that you needed a lamp on. gyu’s voice spills through the walls as you turn off the TV. “no no you have to go around!” he’s yelling into his mic and even with the door closed you can make out every word spoken.

you only had the intention to say goodnight when you pushed open the door to the office. gyus pc set up illuminating the room purple, the curtains drawn closed. beomgyu’s face is washed in the glow from the monitor, headset on as his fingers work the keyboard free hand clicking the mouse. “I’m going to bed,” you say from the doorway and he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge you. you speak up, “Gyu?”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he mutters, turning his chin in your direction but not lifting his eyes off the screen. “No, not you, I’m on the left side,” he says to his teammates over the headset.

normally you would just go to bed without playing much into the easy dismissal. Gyu would climb in after you later in the night snuggling up trying to capture your warmth, kiss along your neck until the both of you drifted off to sleep. It was never a big deal but tonight you wanted attention and watching him tug up the sleeves on his sweatshirt to show off his forearms was enough to make your decision for you.

you pushed off the doorway moving to stand next to his desk. beomgyu only spares you a glance as you push his chair back, it's not even far enough for his hands to budge on the keys. there is just enough space for you to slip under his desk for you to rest your hands on his thighs and look up at him.

gyu does a double take when you wedge yourself in front of him, it's enough time for him to be distracted and the shouts from his friends over the headset are loud enough to hear without straining. “you only have two more lives gyu we can’t fucking loose because you can’t pay attention!” the lights flashing red against his skin.

you can’t help but smile, the sooner he gets kicked off the sooner he’s going to turn all his attention on you. your hands slide up his sweatpants, fingers slipping into the waistband but not tugging it down. beomgyu is back to watching his screen but you can tell your effect on him as his hips sink into the chair. As much as he could pretend to ignore you he was battling against the image of you on your knees right now. beomgyu was trying to keep his thoughts away but he was already getting hard at the implications. warm hands sliding up under his sweatshirt and tracing the lines of his stomach before traveling back down to his waistband. it was when you nudged your face into his semi-hard bulge when his hips lifted to meet your cheek. he was getting harder by the second and a single glance down at you with your cheek on his thigh and your hand over his sweats palming him through the fabric was driving him insane.

“beomgyu!” someone yelled from his headset, gyu’s eyes snapping back to the screen to narrowly miss getting taken out in his game.

“Sorry sorry,” he apologized voice thick as he tried to clear it, “we have to hurry this round I need to take care of something,”

“Well don’t throw the game at least try to pay attention,” it’s then when you slip your hand into his pants. beomgyu’s mouth falls open in a silent moan he tries to keep from the mic but it’s difficult to do when your thumb is circling his tip.

your giggle at his reaction makes him glance back down at you. he wants to end his game right then, his friends will forgive him eventually but he’s come so far already and a small part of him wants to see how far you’ll go. he looks back to the monitor missing your slight pout at being ignored again.

beomgyu is hardly ever quiet when you give him head, not even when you give slow pumps with your hand. Now he’s trying so hard to keep his noises down, lip tucked between his teeth when you tug him free from his pants. veiny shaft thick in your palm as you adjust your speed. you want to push him further towards dropping the game but you can’t lie and say you don’t want his friends to hear him at least once. It's the fact he wants to be quiet that makes you lean over and lick up from the base of his cock to the tip.

beomgyu isn’t expecting the feel of your tongue, his hiss breaking his concentration as he fumbles his fingers over the keyboard. you grip him around the base giving feather-light kisses along the tip of his cock. the ghost of your mouth makes his hips jerk up trying to chase the feeling. and when you finally slip him into your mouth gyus is quick to hit the side of his headset to silence his audio costing him another life in the game but the freedom to let out a chest-rumbling moan. “oh fuck- no wait- fuck,” the first half still caught on the mic since he wasn’t fast enough.

you swirl your tongue around him, following the natural ridges, hands working what you don’t fit down your throat. You could keep bobbing your head for as long as he needed but Gyu was back to watching the screen, hands unmoving from his keyboard, finger pressed on his mouse ready to keep playing like you weren’t here at all. The only inclination that he’s affected is his soft whimpering coming from lips still between his teeth even though his friends couldn’t hear him anymore.

pulling away completely you drop all contact with his body leaving him high and dry. He glances down, “I didn’t say stop,” as if he could tell you what you could and couldn’t do.

you huff a laugh, “I didn’t even have to start,” you lean over to plant one last kiss on his pink tip, precum already coating his slit. his cock is standing up straight as you move back out from under the desk. “you can come finish in bed once you get off your game,” you say sweetly and Gyu is openly gawking at you, the screen flashing red as he loses his final life in the game. You can hear the roar of his friends over his headset as you turn to walk away but you don’t even take a step before you hear the creaking of the chair behind you.

gyu grabs the back of your shirt tugging the collar to pull you back towards him. he gives you no time to realize you’re in for it before you’re leaning over the desk with your face pressed into the smooth surface. beomgyu pushes his headset off his ears the sound of them falling to the floor not even making him flinch as he pushes down your shorts and panties.

you’re dripping already that even with no prep the stretch of beomgyu shoving himself between your folds doesn’t burn. “you little fucking tease,” beomgyu grunts slamming his hips into you, “sucking me off while I play wasn’t enough huh? you needed to be stuffed so bad you knew I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from leaving to fuck you immediately,”

you can’t even find your response as your cunt is being absolutely punished. beomgyu wraps his hand in your hair tugging your head back as he leans his chest against you so that he can press his mouth to your ear. “now you’re going to take my load and head straight to bed and I’ll think about letting you finish when I think it’s time,”

your whine at the thought of not being able to cum is caught in your throat as beomgyu angles his hips to hit the perfect gummy spot deep inside you. your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head when he slips his free hand in front of you to rub at your swollen clit.

“Should I be nice?” his words fanning over your check your nod harder to achieve with his hold on your hair. “but you know I don’t have to finish what I started, I could just stop because I didn’t have to start in the first place,” he pulls his hand away from your clit and you’re almost in tears at the loss.

“no please!” you whine, “I’m sorry please beomgyu please,”

you can feel him twitch inside you, knowing he’s close from the sound of his moans. and you’re so close to following after him knowing that if he presses his fingers back to your clit you’ll cum without thinking twice.

you roll your hips back against him as he lets go of your hair to grab your hips. your face back to being pressed against the desk, a little bit of drool slipping out of your mouth as he hits your cervix.

beomgyu knows he’s going to cum and it’s because he wants to feel you fluttering and sucking him in deeper that he caves and drops a hand back down to circle your clit. instantly you’re crying out as you cum, legs shaking as you’re fucked into the desk. gyu finds it hard to pull out when you feel too wet and welcoming. the smacking of your skin against his mixed with your sweet sounds pushing him over the edge. hot ropes of his cum coating your warm walls both of your moans loud as beomgyu slowed his pace pressing his hips firmly against yours to make sure you feel as stuffed as possible.

both of you are panting trying to catch your breath when you hear the chatter from the headset on the floor. “you could have at least silenced the call before you fucked,” “Literally none of us would have been pissed if you went afk for a few so we didn’t have to hear that,”

“fuck,” beomgyu groaned, he didn’t realize that when he tossed the headset to the floor it landed on the button making sure everything was heard. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” but he wasn’t upset. He only kissed the back of your neck and then your cheek. He presses his mouth to your ear so that they can’t hear him. “but I don’t care, I have my perfect little tease to take of me,” you giggle pressing your hand to your mouth to try and stifle the sound. “now I’m going to play one more round if you wanna cockwarm me until I’m done I sure wouldn’t mind that,”

[inaconstantstateofchange]

binggeyuan modern!AU based on this prompt where shen yuan and luo binghe live in the same apartment building, but have never met each other. SY is more-or-less his regular shut-in self, and keeps very odd hours, which means that he happens to be wide awake the first time LBH gets back to the apartment building at 3 a.m. after some manner of illicit activity and realizes he doesn't have his fucking entrance key. LBH hits one apartment number after another into the intercom, fully prepared to dazzle his way into getting one of them to open the door for him, but the intercom is old, and people come and go from this building often enough that most people don't bother getting it set up, and he's having no luck.

finally, just as he's about to give up and bully his way onto mobei-jun or sha hualing's couch for the night, someone picks up. he doesn't even remember which specific apartment number it was, he was just entering them mechanically. immediately, LBH pulls on his smoothest affect (sure the intercom has no video, only shitty, garbled audio, but that's no reason to let the universe catch you slipping) and prepares to give the sob story performance of his life. before he can even get a single word out, however, there's a crackly, almost indiscernible "Open!" and he hears the click of the entrance door unlocking before the intercom call is ended. he stares at the intercom for a minute, somewhat wrong-footed, but then shakes himself out of it in time to catch the door before it locks again.

SY, for his part, was broken out of a binge-reading spiral by the intercom call, and fully did not realize how late it had gotten. he assumed he had ordered something that was arriving earlier than expected, and kept an ear out for a knock on his front door from the delivery person for a few minutes, but then got sucked back into the target of his current literary criticism.

the next time LBH gets locked out, he starts in the general number range he remembers striking on the last time, and pays closer attention to the numbers this time. he's curious if his little philanthropist will be so accommodating again. SY orders a lot of packages, okay! the one time he didn't pick up the intercom he had to wait an extra three days for his ultra-rare, limited edition merch, which he will not be going through again. this time, though, when the intercom picks up, LBH is prepared. he starts talking immediately, playing up his stress at being locked out, how sorry he is to be a bother, and how much he really, really appreciates it. SY fully blue screens at this unanticipated display of emotions, blurts something out about how it's not problem and of course he's happy to help out a neighbor in need, then hangs up (after unlocking the entrance, of course). it is perhaps fortunate that the intercom has no video, and thus he can not see the look on LBH's face.

LBH gets more and more consistent pushy with his calls, curious how far this little philanthropist will go for him. he knows his apartment number, of course, he could just knock and introduce himself, but he'd rather let him come to him. LBH starts interjecting little questions here and there, trying to glean any information about his mysterious benefactor. SY, meanwhile, is lighting a daily candle for this poor little bun somewhere in his building, who has truly the worst luck in the entire world! who ever heard of a gang of pickpockets stealing someone's keys not once, but twice in the same week!

LBH gets comfortable with the state of things — as ever, too comfortable. nothing good can last forever. one night, after a long and utterly shitty day, for the first time in ages, he loses his key for real. he's tried to avoid reaching out to SY at any time when he's not 100% in control of himself, but there's nothing for it. he punches in the numbers for the unit he knows by heart at this point, and when it picks up, he sighs tiredly, and waits for SY to speak first. after a moment of silence, the call drops, and the door remains locked. LBH is almost shaken entirely out of his malaise. not even a word? he puts SY's apartment number in again, but this time it doesn't even pick up. he stares at the intercom in unpleasant shock for a few minutes, then punches the wall next to it and leaves. he spends the night on mobei-jun's uncomfortably small couch, staring unseeing at the ceiling above him. at least the other man doesn't ask him any questions.

their easy rapport broken, SY starts to worry when he hasn't heard from his unfortunate little neighbor — maybe he's moved out? hopefully to a place with a more accommodating security system... after a full week, his worry ramps up even higher. he wants to believe his neighbor just found a system to keep track of his keys that works for him, but statistically, it seems unlikely. feeling like the most awkward, overstepping idiot on the planet, he scribbles off a few short notes, and sticks one by the the intercom, one by the mailboxes, and one in the laundry room. his neighbor will have to go at least one of those places, certainly?

to my keyless neighbor - hope you're well! i was worried- if you ever need me, you know where to reach me. you weren't a bother- - XX4

the next time LBH stops by the apartment (he's been avoiding it by couch-hopping as much as possible, to the great aggravation of his friends) he carefully avoids looking at the intercom. as such, it's actually sha hualing who spots the note first. (she bullied her way into an invite to make LBH actually go home.) she crows out a harsh laugh, snatching the note off the wall and holding it up dramatically, cackling about "rom-com shit". LBH isn't really paying attention, until he catches a glimpse of the apartment number at the bottom. eyes flashing, he snatches the note out of her hand, and reads it over once, and then again. after a moment, he turns to sha hualing, and tells her to go home, that he's got plans, actually. she gapes at him for a moment, then scoffs and turns on her heel, flipping him off as she goes. whatever! she didn't want to babysit his mopey ass any longer anyway!

LBH spends a few frozen moments running over his options, torn between calling right now just to see if his philanthropist will pick up this time, and giving himself a chance to freshen up, and maybe make a good enough showing for himself that whatever it was that caused him to be ignored before will never happen again. ultimately, he decides on the latter, but rushes through all his preparations as much as he can while maintaining sufficient attention to detail. he wishes he had the materials to make something truly spectacular, but his apartment is showing his absence over the past week. he settles on a meal that just barely feels sufficient, and finds himself more anxious than he can remember being in years at this point, staring at his philanthropist's apartment door, two levels below his.

he raises his fist to knock, tentatively at first, too quiet to hear, and then once more, louder. a muffled voice comes through the door, and a few moments later, it cracks open to reveal a man just a bit shorter than him, with a rumpled shirt that looks like it has just been haphazardly thrown on and hair that might not have been brushed in days. he's... really cute.

LBH and SY just kind of stare at each other, frozen, for a bit, until LBH proffers the food he's brought, and SY's archaic etiquette subroutines kick in, and he invites LBH in before he can even think about. his immediate wince makes it clear he had not meant to do that, but LBH is not above making a situation work to his advantage, and graciously accepts, stepping into the somewhat cluttered apartment before SY can recover from his slip-up. they still have not exchanged names.

ultimately, they get themselves figured out. LBH introduces himself, and SY follows suit. there's a beat of silence as they both realize that this does not actually clear up anything about how they know each other. LBH finds the words to explain his own part in this are slow to come, so he finally just hands the note, neatly folded, to SY. SY's face colors, but he overcomes it to fussily poke at LBH about how worried he was, when the other just disappeared! LBH stops for a second, hearing that, then slowly responds that it was SY who cut him off first. SY gapes at him, then demands to know when he did a thing like that! he set his intercom call sound to caramelldansen and max volume so he'd be sure not to miss it!

LBH gives him the date, and SY flushes again, then looks away, muttering something unflattering about a "qingge". LBH feels a wash of jealousy, that he's misread the situation and SY is already spoken for, but SY goes on to explain that he had been stuck overnight at the hospital - for nothing major! pretty routine actually! - and the friend that was staying with him must have picked up, then hung up when he couldn't figure out who was calling.

LBH sits back, somewhat at a loss. so it... wasn't because SY was tired of him? SY sputters, waving his hands about. absolutely not! he might be slightly forgetful, but binghe is clearly a wonderful young man and it's not like SY has much else going on in his life!

LBH determines to himself then and there that the only way to ensure such a thing does not happen again is to make sure that he is the one staying with SY the next time he's in the hospital.

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 5

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Cockwarming - Felix

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: End of the quarter reports are due and somehow one of the calculations got messed up; it’s nothing you can’t do by hand. And luckily you have a preppy secretary who will stop at nothing to make sure you’re relaxed.

————————————————————

“Felix, can you bring in my incoming forms, please?” you say into the intercom on your desk. 

“Right away, ma’am.” His deep voice answers you immediately through the speaker. 

Leaning back in your large office chair, you cross one leg over the other and look out of the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall behind your desk. 

Your arms cross over your chest and your bottom lip pulls between your teeth in deep thought. 

Various different items on your to-do list for the day fly through your mind as you stare out over the Seoul skyline.

Partnership approvals, tax forms, time sheets.  

Being the CFO for a large cooperation like this one was never easy. There was never a single day in the office that you weren’t busy. When you think about it, you can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation day.

Once you get this high in the corporate ladder, it’s supposed to get easier, that’s what you thought. It’s what you were told your entire life. But, now that you’re here, you see that it’s the exact opposite.

Every single day is filled to the brim with meetings, phone calls, and business lunches. It’s all chock full of fake smiles and forced laughter. 

You worked your ass off to get to where you were now, and nothing was ever going to change that. Sleep be damned..

A gentle knock sounded through the room.

“Come in,” you call out, turning your chair to face the door.

The door opens and Felix walks in with a large stack of papers in his hands. His crisp white dress shirt is tucked into his navy blue dress pants, a matching tie around his neck. A pair of thick black glasses sat perched on his nose, face framed by long, perfectly kempt, blond hair.

“Your inbox, ma’am,” he says warmly, walking closer to your desk.

“Thank you, Felix.” You motion down to the empty desk in front of you. “You can just place them anywhere.”

He nods and gently places them on an empty spot on the wood.

“Do I have any more meetings for the day?” you ask him, flipping through the papers.

“No, ma’am.”

You run one hand through your hair tiredly. “Good, good.” A beat. “What time is my first meeting tomorrow?”

Felix reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen a few times before speaking up. “Ten o’clock.”

“Really? That’s the best news I’ve gotten all day.” 

“Your 8:30 was rescheduled to the afternoon.”

“Now that makes sense.”

Your eyes tiredly flick over to the time on your desktop. “Jesus, Felix. Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?” 

He shifts his weight on his feet. “Yes, but I don’t leave until you do.”

“I told you that you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s just in case you need me, you know?” A soft blush covers his cheeks, but you pay no mind to it.

“You’re putting these hours on your timesheet, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You sigh again. “Tomorrow is the day, isn’t it?”

“If you’re referring to the quarterly rebalance, then yes, it is.”

At the end of every quarter, you were in charge of verifying each analyst’s calculations and reading their predictions for the next one before presenting them to the board of directors. 

Every single time you end up staying at the office until the wee hours of the morning.  

Last quarter, you didn’t leave the office until two in the morning. And, like every quarter, Felix stayed with you.

“Well, then,” You put the forms back down on your desk and push your chair away to stand up. “I’m not going to bother with these tonight when I’ll be here until sunrise on Saturday.”

“Should I have your car brought around?”

“If you could, please.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Felix briskly leaves the room and you roll your head around your sore neck.

“Fuck quarterly rebalances.”

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

Your hand runs over your face for the millionth time in the last four hours. The numbers are starting to blend together at this point. 

The analyses started coming in around 11 AM and since then you just haven’t stopped. 

Line chart after line chart, spreadsheet after spreadsheet, everything looks the same now. 

You’ve been hung up on one single data set. There’s a random spike in it for no reason at all. Why is there a spike in this calculation? 

You cannot move on to the rest of the data until you get over this spike. 

Blindly, you reach over to the phone on your desk and press the intercom button. “Felix,” you say after the beep.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you please patch me through to Seo Changbin? There’s no way this spike is correct.”

The sound of typing on a keyboard echoes over the line. 

“Seo Changbin clocked out three hours ago, ma’am. Would you like me to ring his personal phone?”

“Three hours?” you ask incredulously and look down at the time. “Holy shit.” you murmur under your breath.

8:00 PM. It’s 8:00 PM.

“Ma’am?” Felix grabs your attention after a second of waiting. 

You throw your glasses down onto the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. A headache has been resting behind your eyes all day. 

“No,” you say after a few moments. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just run the numbers myself.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with for now, ma’am?”

You look around the room, the sun is setting over the skyline. A sigh leaves your chest. 

It’s hard to believe you were working for nine straight hours on this. When was the last time you looked up? 

“Have you eaten yet, Felix?” you ask, keeping your eyes outside. 

“No, ma’am.”

“Order whatever you want, make it double. Put it on the corporate card.”

Felix’s deep laugh comes through the intercom. “Right away, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” 

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

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

Two plus two is four, right? Yes, of course it is. Two plus two has always been four. They wouldn’t just change that suddenly, right?

But you’re so delirious that you still punch it in your calculator. 

“Two plus two...” When the calculator says four, you stare at it. “To be honest, I was expecting something else with how tonight is going.”

Laughing at your own joke, you continue to re-input the numbers into the spreadsheet on your desktop. 

A knock at your door pulls your attention.

“Come in!” you call out without looking up. 

The door clicks open. “Delivery!” Felix’s cheery voice calls into your office.

You look up at your secretary with weary eyes. His mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile. 

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” you groan and lean back in your chair. Your muscles scream from the movement and you grunt. “I just verified two plus two on the calculator.”

“Still four?”

“Surprisingly.”

“I think it’s time for a break, then.”

Peeking at the clock, it says it’s around 9:00 PM now. 

With an apologetic smile, you look up at Felix. His white collared shirt is undone at the top, no tie around his neck. A plain pair of tight black slacks hugging his legs. He’s looking at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” you say while taking the takeout container from him. He just laughs.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all part of the job.” He shifts in place for a moment and turns and looks at the door. 

“Where’s your food?”

“Oh, at my desk.”

“Why don’t you bring it in here? I’d love the company. Wayne can only do so much for my sanity.” You point at the house plant on your windowsill.

A little nametag on the front of the pot says ‘Wayne’ in cursive. 

Felix’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Oh! Yeah! I’ll um… I’ll go grab it and be right back.”

You follow his lithe body as he rushes out of your office with one eyebrow raised.

Strange.

True, this was the first time you invited him to eat in your office with you. But it’s not like you ever had the opportunity to do so.

Typically, you ate in your office by yourself while still working. Truth be told, you had no idea when Felix’s lunch break was. He was always available when you needed him. Did he work through his lunch too?

Your secretary re-enters your office slightly out of breath. 

“By the way,” he pants. “I had forgotten to order us drinks, so I got this out of the vending machine for you.”

He comes up to your desk holding out your favorite drink.

“Ugh, what would I do without you?” You smile and take the drink. “Pull a chair closer, you can eat on my desk too. It’ll get all over you if you try to balance it like that on your lap.”

Eagerly, he places his food on your desk and scoots forward. The redness in his cheeks deepened. 

Soft lo-fi music is coming through your computer and filling the silence in the air. You crack open the takeout container and dig in. 

It’s a stir fry. And stir fry has never looked this good in your life.

“This is so good,” you basically moan after taking your first bite. 

“O-Oh, yeah? I’m glad you like it,” Felix stutters back and takes his own bite. 

“It’s definitely much needed after today.” You whine and look back at your desktop. 

“What’s going on with the numbers?”

“Based on what Changbin gave me, it says our internal earnings spiked massively this quarter. And yes, while this is great, it’s extremely abnormal. If this is true, I need to verify it before I can present it; otherwise, I’ll look like a fool.” 

Felix listens intently to your explanation. “I don’t think you could ever look like a fool, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile at him. He grins back and suddenly it’s like the sun is back up. His pearly white teeth shine in the office light.

“You have such a pretty smile,” you compliment him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Felix squirms in his seat and looks down bashfully. The blush spreads all over his face. One of his hands comes up and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Ah, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

Chuckling softly, you turn back to your calculations. 

The gentle, twinkling sounds of lo-fi beats do nothing to help calm the swirling confusion in your head. 

Minutes pass and you’re staring at the same algorithm. 

Your shoulders are slowly coming towards your ears with all the tension in your body. When you lean forward to use your keyboard, a burning pain runs through your back. 

“Fuck.” Your hand flies up to grab where your shoulder meets your neck to massage it and roll your head around. 

“Everything alright?” Felix asks. 

“Yeah, I just get so stiff sitting at my desk while I work on the end of quarter stuff. Feels like my shoulders are on fire.”

No amount of massaging your own shoulders seems to be working, though. 

Felix looks down at his food for a moment, then back up to you. His eyes shift away from you nervously. 

“Before this job, I had gone to massage school for a few months. Would you like me to see if I can work those kinks out?”

Normally, you would say no. It would be so wildly inappropriate to have your secretary massage your shoulders while you work. Imagine if someone decided to walk in?

But now? When no one else is here and there’s no end in sight with these analyses?

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, unsure. 

He seems to perk up a bit. “Not at all!”

Another moment passes while you weigh it in your mind, your lip pulls between your teeth before looking at him a bit sheepishly. “If you don’t mind…”

Felix is up on his feet, food immediately forgotten. It almost startles you how fast he’s up and around the back of your chair.

You had shucked off your blazer a few hours ago. Just your button up on, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to your elbows. 

Felix stands behind you for a moment, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”

“Yes, actually.” Reaching down into your desk drawer, you pulled out an herbal lotion that your one friend had gotten you as a gift. 

“‘Stress Relief’, huh?” Felix teases when you set it on the desk.

“A friend thought it would make a great gag gift with everything going on,” you laugh to yourself and stare back at your computer. “She didn’t realize how appropriate it was.”

Once more, Felix moves his hands around your back, his lithe fingers sweeping your hair off the back of your neck. Instead of keeping it down, you lean forward and grab a long pencil out of the cup and twirl it around your hair to then pin it up.

It’s a trick you learned back in college.

Felix watches behind you silently, his breath hitches slightly when he sees your hair settle all pinned up. Strands fall out of the bundle and frame your face and neck a bit.

It’s the most perfect messy hairstyle he’s ever seen. 

Felix’s jaw clenches and he gulps, pulling himself together.

“Do you mind if I, ah– lower the back of your shirt a bit?” 

“Yeah, here.” You’re already back in word mode; after looking at the sheer number of raw data littering the spreadsheet on your desktop, you were no longer focused on your secretary. 

You unbutton more of the buttons and let your shirt slide off your shoulders a bit. Your cleavage was still covered– mostly. 

Felix’s brain whites out for a split second and he has to physically force his brain to reboot. There’s a slight twitch in his pants at the sight of your naked shoulders. You’re always in those high-collared shirts, blazers, sweaters, so ungodly professional.

But your clothes are always so skin tight. Or you’ll wear a blouse like this one and a tiny little pencil skirt. 

Felix leans down and pumps some lotion on his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up before setting his hands on your wonderfully smooth skin. It takes every fiber of his being not to let out a moan at the feeling. 

His breathing picks up as he digs his thumbs into your muscles. 

Immediately, you groan at the feeling. “God, that already feels so good, Felix.”

His name, you said his name, moaning nonetheless. 

He can only make a noise of acknowledgement while he continues to work out the high strung muscles in your neck and shoulders.

Meanwhile, your brain is completely focused on your calculations. It’s so much easier to focus on everything when it doesn’t feel like your back is on fire.

Felix’s hands are absolutely magical. Everywhere he rubs loosens up underneath his strong, yet gentle, grip. He kneads right at the base of your neck and every knot slowly releases.

Small moans slip past your lips without realizing it.

And just because you don’t realize you’re moaning does not mean that your secretary hasn’t. Every single sound that comes out of your mouth goes straight to his dick. His slacks have tightened significantly, a tent pitching higher and higher each second.

He scolds himself internally. He knows he needs to pull it together, you’re his boss. You sign his paychecks. But fuck, knowing that you’re making those noises because of just his fingers is messing with his brain, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Felix runs over a particularly tight knot and you jump with a yelp.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely, keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you soothe his worry. “God, I already feel better. It felt like someone was stabbing flaming daggers into my shoulders.”

Your voice sounds somewhere else. Even though Felix has been your secretary for almost two years now, you’ve never spoken this casually with him. You were always professional, always so put together. 

The work in front of you has you so consumed that you don’t realize how much your tongue is slipping.

It’s been like this the entire night. You’re too distracted to care. 

“I can’t believe you chose to pursue this instead of continuing with massage school.” you continue.

“Well, I had originally gotten this job to pay for massage school. Then, when I got this position, I realized it paid more than being a masseuse ever would.”

You move your head around your shoulders, “Still.” you write down a string of numbers, click around on your keyboard, punch a formula into the calculator, then write something else down. “God, your fingers are fucking magical.”

Hearing you curse sent a lightning bolt down his back and Felix’s head is shot into the clouds. And you were complimenting him! 

“I can’t imagine what else those fingers can do.” 

Now he knows he’s dreaming. Did you really just say that? Did he hallucinate it? His fingers pause on your muscles.

Your own words must have sunken into your brain; your entire body goes rigid and you gasp, one hand flying over your mouth. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my god, Felix.” you say quietly, your tone is horrified. “Felix, I am so sorry, please. Oh, god.”

You can’t even turn around to look at him. It’s like ice water was injected to your veins. How could you have said that? He’s going to report you to HR! Who wouldn’t? You quite literally just harassed him in the workplace.

“I have no idea why I said that.” you sputter.

Say goodbye to everything you worked for. You threw it out the window by accidentally letting your tongue slip while he massaged your bare shoulders.

While you were apologizing profusely, you didn't feel him lean down until you heard his baritone voice was right next to your ear.

“I could show you.”

Like a zipper, pleasure shoots right up your spine. It makes you sit up straighter in your desk chair. Your mouth is suddenly so dry.

“W-What?” you stutter out, still looking down at your desk.

Felix is so close behind you that you can smell his cologne wrapping around your nose. It’s so fresh. It has a cotton-like musky smell to it. You’ve always caught whiffs of it when he came breezing through your office.

So many times you’ve found yourself leaning into the smell, and now here you have it so close to you.

“I could show you what these fingers can do, ma’am.” he purrs in your ear. Goosebumps raise all along the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end and a shiver creeps up on you.

His warm, slippery hands slide from your shoulders down your bare arms to grip them for a second before sliding back up. Felix reapers the motion a few times, letting his hot breath fan over your exposed skin.

“But,” the gravel of his voice makes your insides flutter. “You need to finish these calculations, ma’am.”

You hum in response, allowing your eyes to flutter closed and you lean back into his touch.

Felix chuckles under his breath. “I have an idea.”

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

Oh, it was a sinful fucking idea. Did he really think you were going to get any work done like this?

Felix had sat down on your desk chair, the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. At the same time, you can’t deny the wetness in your panties. It was getting worse and worse during that massage.

It’s only natural. 

He grabs your hips and pulls your body towards him, his face level with your lower stomach. He looks directly up at you, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Those deep brown eyes staring up at you with a lustful haze covering them. Every freckle was highlighted on his face due to the blush covering his skin.

You bring one of your hands up to his face and softly caress his cheek, letting your fingertips dance over his skin. Felix leans into your touch; he turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.

“This is crazy,” you whisper down to him.

“The secretary sleeping with the boss is not a new concept, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, but it’s usually the other way around.”

One of your knees comes up and rests on the chair right in front of his crotch. Felix bites his lip and his eyes squint shut for a moment.

His hips stutter, you can tell he’s trying not to roll them to rub against your bare skin.

Your head cocks to the side and you smirk. “Come on then, I need you to be fully hard if I’m going to sit on your cock.”

One of the deepest moans you’ve ever heard pulls from deep within his chest. Felix’s head tilts back and his grip on your hips tightens. In a fluid motion, he gyrates his hips and you feel his cock press right against your leg.

A devious smile crosses your face, you move your hand down to grip his face tightly to bring his clouded gaze back to you. 

“Come on then, Felix. You can do better than that.”

He whines and closes his eyes again, his hips stuttering and moving faster, harder. He parts his lips to begin panting. Each breath is hot and heavy, you can barely hear your music over it. The heat from his exhales goes right through your shirt.

Further and further, he descends into a subspace.

“Good boy,” you praise and it goes straight to his head. 

Felix gulps and moves his hands around to grip your ass a bit.

In a quick movement, you rip your leg away from his hips.

Felix cries out and his eyes fly open to look at you with astonishment.

“Did I say you could touch me like that?” you hiss down at him. 

“No, ma’am.”

Your head cocks to the side and you stare for a few seconds. “I need to get back to work already. Take your cock out.”

His eyes widen and he hesitates, not used to hearing such filth tumble from your lips. You tighten your grip on his face.

“I’m waiting, Felix.”

He’s then fumbling with his pants trying to fulfill your wishes. He’s practically scrambling. Why isn’t the zipper fucking working? Come on, come on.

Meanwhile, you drop his face and pull your skirt up around your waist, revealing your black lace thong. While still fumbling with his own pants, Felix moans, staring at the beautiful sight in front of him. It sounds like it’s punched out of him.

Teasingly, you hook your thumbs around the elastic band and drag it down your legs slowly.

Another whine comes out from Felix’s throat. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth at the sight of your pussy, acting like a starved dog.

“Please,” he pants, not able to tear his eyes away from it. “Just a taste. Just one. Please, ma’am, please.”

Smirking, you lightly slap his cheek twice. “You get three licks, honey.”

He can’t get his mouth on you fast enough. Felix wraps his lips around your glistening folds and runs his tongue up through your juices, collecting whatever he could on his tongue. 

You both moan at the same time at the sensation.

“One…” you moan out. 

Another lick pulls another moan. “Two!”

After the third lick, he swirls his tongue around your clit, making your knees feel weak. “Fuck! Three!”

You roughly grab his hair and yank his mouth away from you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes half lidded. It looks like you took a puppy away from its bowl.

His full lips glisten with your arousal. 

“Sit back on the chair, hands to yourself.”

Felix reluctantly leans back in your chair, his cock at full mast and dripping with precum. His head is flushed red. He is painfully hard.

He rests both of his hands on the arm rests of the chair and keeps his lustful eyes on you.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you kick your panties off, heels staying on. 

You turn around and grab Felix’s cock tightly. His hands tighten around the armrests with a gasp.

“Remember what I said, Felix. No touching.”

“Yes,” he pants.

“Say it, then.” you demand, hovering your pussy over his cock. You both can feel the heat of each other radiating off. 

“No touchinggg—!” While he was talking you dropped down onto his length. 

Both of you moan out loud, your head kicks back at the delicious stretch. God, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid. This job takes everything from you.

You roll your hips a few times, getting adjusted. With each movement, Felix lets out a noise: a whine, a grunt, a moan, a whimper, everything in between. He’s singing a chorus of pleasure in your ear. 

“We have to get a little closer to the desk, Felix.”

It takes every ounce of strength, but your voice comes out even and Felix clocks that it’s your professional voice. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

Slowly, he rolls the chair towards the desk and you immediately return to your work. You snap back to it so fast it makes Felix whimper again.

Your heat is wrapped around him in the fucking best way. There’s no way he’s alive right now. For months he’s touched himself thinking about what you looked like underneath all those professional clothes.

You’re always so uptight, what if you just let loose for once? What would it be like? 

Your pussy clenched down on him and Felix whines, throwing his head back. Oh, this was going to be torture.

Just until you finish verifying the calculation, that’s what you said. As soon as you verify the numbers, then you would let him have you.

“You just need to behave.” You told him.

How is he supposed to behave when you’re so fucking tight and wet around him? He can feel each breath you take. 

Besides the fact that you’re surrounding his cock, your naked thighs are right there on top of his. He wants to grab them so hard it’ll leave his fingerprints in your skin, maybe it’ll bruise in the shape of his handprint.

Felix can’t help his hips bucking at the thought.

You clench again and moan. “Felix,” you warn.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, ma’am!” 

Oh, you love that. You absolutely throb around him. Huh.

The soft hairs on the back of your neck tickle against his nose, he can still smell the lotion that he rubbed into your shoulders. 

Felix is grabbing the armrests so tight his knuckles are turning white. His nails dig into the leather painfully.

He licks his lips nervously and he gets another taste of your arousal that was still on his skin. It makes his eyes roll back. 

You adjust on his lap. The movement of your heat around him makes his head spin. The drag of your hot, soaking wet walls over his length is the most consuming feeling he’s ever felt. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath. 

“Stop moving.”

A small sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Why no touching? Why couldn’t he snake his hand around and up your blouse? He could cup your tit and pinch and pull your nipples until you’re clenching around him so tight that he could scream. He could lick all the way up your neck and pull your earlobe into his mouth while he listens to you panting his name.

Why can’t he touch you? God, he just wants to touch you.

Here he was, living out his wildest wet dream, and he couldn't feel your soft, supple skin underneath his fingers.

Why can’t he turn your head and consume your lips with his own? Shove his tongue down your throat and suck on yours like it’s a piece of candy.

He should’ve taken his pants off. This way he would’ve been able to feel your juices drip down and soak his thighs. You’re so fucking wet he thinks he might die. 

Felix’s eyes travel to the desk. He could absolutely bend you over the top. He could pull your hair and make you scream. He could make you forget all about–

“Aha!” When you scream, he jumps in surprise. His hips buck up and your pussy clenches around him. You both moan.

“Did you get it?” he pants out. His voice sounds so much weaker than he wanted it to; he sounds like he just ran two miles.

“Yes! He used net earnings instead of gross in one formula! Oh I am going to kill him.”

Thank the fucking lord. You figured it out. You did it, can he please please please–

Felix must’ve started thrusting up into you before he could even register the movements. His mind is so cloudly with lust that he can barely think straight.

“Easy, Felix.” you whine out through moans. He can just tell you didn’t want him to stop either. “Let me just finalize the chart and then–”

Felix cries out and then slumps his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “Ma’am, please, I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, ma’am?”

You hum and roll your hips ever so slightly. Just this slight amount of movement drives Felix insane. He whimpers loudly and his legs begin to shake underneath you.

“You have been a good boy, Felix. Why don’t I give you a reward?”

“Please.”

“Why don’t you let those pretty little hands roam until I’m done?”

“Thank you!” he cries out with a hoarse voice.

Immediately, his hands fly to your thighs and he grips the flesh tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you cry out under your breath, your walls clamping down on him tightly.

“Can I use my mouth, ma’am? Please please please please–”

“Yesss…” you hissed at him.

Felix attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck on the soft skin while his hands wander up your body.

One hand goes right under your shirt and pulls your bra down. Those magic fingers pinch your nipple.

Every reaction your body has envelopes him in the most amazing way. He can feel everything your body likes. He can feel how you like when he rubs around your nipple rather than pinching it. He can feel how much you love when he uses his thumb to play with your tit while his mouth bites at your neck and hit other hand teases your soaking wet folds.

“Felix…” you warn. It’s all empty, though. Your typing has completely stopped, work has been forgotten.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, ma’am.” He moans when you tighten. “Let me make you feel good, ma’am. Let me be such a good secretary.”

With the gentlest of touches, Felix plays with your clit. Just with that soft touch, your body spasms around him.

“I can make your body sing, ma’am. Let me be of service to you.”

Another gentle pinch of your nipple. It’s going straight to his head how he can feel how much you’re fighting him.

“Don’t you want to cum around my cock, ma’am?”

You break. “Please.” you whine out.

It’s enough for him. 

Both of his arms tighten around your body, his feet plant firmly on the floor and he begins fucking up into you like his fucking life depends on it. 

He turns into something of a fucking animal with how he’s rutting his cock into your sopping wet heat. He thrusts so hard and so fast, you think he might go through you.

His teeth bare for a moment from the exertion, but he bites down where your shoulder meets your neck.

Your head throws back onto his shoulder. Felix grabs your entire tit to anchor his hold, his thumb brushing over the nipple over and over, each one sends a ripple of pleasure through you.

His other hand rubs harder at your clit, you clamp even tighter over him. Both of you grunt and groan. There is no silence in your office; is the music even playing anymore?

You turn your head to look at him. “Kiss me, Felix.”

He captures your lips without a second thought. It all feels so fucking deliciously good. He sucks on your tongue just like he always wanted to. 

Your mouths glide over one another sloppily, spit getting everywhere on your mouths.

With each thrust, each flick, each rub, your orgasm gets closer and closer. 

Felix shifts his hips a bit and hits your g-spot so hard you cry out into his mouth, he swallows the noise.

“You’re so fucking tight, ma’am. I can feel you clenching so hard. You’re close, aren’t you?”

All you’re able to do is nod. He’s stimulating you so much that you can’t find your voice. 

“Fuck!” he cries out, “Fuck fuck, give it to me, please. Please cum for me, ma’am.” His voice is so low, it's so hoarse from arousal.

A particularly hard thrust launches you over the edge, your orgasm seizes every inch of your body. Felix keeps going, fucking you right through your orgasm.

Deep, guttural moans come from his chest as your body begins to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated as he gets closer to his own peak.

“Cumming, cumming, cumming!” he shouts and bites your neck again.

Felix spills within you, his hips sputter and he continues to talk through it. 

“So good, fuck, thank you, thank you. So fucking good, fuck, oh my god.”

The room begins to settle, both of your pants becoming softer than the music. Felix holds you close to his chest still, not letting you go.

Your eyes flicker to your desktop.

“... I’m only halfway done. Your cock isn’t going anywhere.”

[wwilsonbarness]

hello? Mr. Pickle?

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky struggles with modern technology, especially autocorrect. 

warnings: none, pure fluff 

word count: 495

a/n: When I was writing i can’t do this anymore my autocorrect changed doll to dill and so this was born - also my first drabble? Huge thanks to @hopelessromantic423 for the title suggestion <33

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist 

From across the room you could hear your phone vibrating so you made a mental note to check it once you finish this chapter of your book. It buzzed again and you debated going over to it but you only had two pages left. Then it buzzed 3 more times, straight after each other. This was when you decided it must be important so you got up and started walking over. It buzzed another two times as you walked over and you started to panic, it could’ve been an emergency. When you saw the messages on your screen you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was Bucky who was messaging you. 

Buck

I’m just leaving. What do you want for dinner dill?  dill** dill** This stupid fucking phone. DILL** DILL DILL** Fuck sake I’m phoning you 

You only just finish reading the last message when your phone begins to ring and you try to compose your laughter enough to answer. 

“Hey Buck, or should I say Mr Pickle?” 

“Ha Ha.” He replies sarcastically, “I take it you seen my texts. Stupid phone never works.” 

“It’s just not used to your 40’s lingo babe.” You teased, you were always kidding with him about how much of an old man he was. Not in the way of his literal age but the way he lived, he hated using new technology, he hated social media, and you don’t even want to think back on the time you tried to make him watch a reality show. He tried liking all the modern parts of the world but he missed the old days where things were a lot simpler. He was just glad he had you to help him through it. 

“Yeah well it’s lucky I didn’t throw it out the car.” You hear him mumble something along the lines of “piece of crap” and it makes you giggle. “It’s not funny doll.” 

“It’s kinda funny.” 

“I hate you.” He jokes. 

“No you don’t.” You manage to reply through your laughter. 

“You’re right I don’t. So what do you want for dinner?”

You take a second to think, “I’m kinda craving cheeseburgers.” 

“I could do a cheeseburger, I’m near that burger place anyways.” 

“Could you get some fries too? Oh! And a milkshake? The one with the oreo pieces? Please.” He couldn’t see but your pouty lip had come out. 

“Anything you want doll.” 

“Thanks babe, how long do you think you’ll be?”

“Should be like 20 minutes, do you wanna watch something while we eat?” 

“You read my mind! I’ll set it up in time for you coming home.” 

“Okay, won’t be long. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Bucky’s about to hang up before you quickly start speaking again. “Bucky?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Could you get me extra pickles on my burger?” 

You hear him scoff a little then laugh, “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Byeee.” You trail off until the call ends. You were never gonna let him live this one down.

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 11/2/24

prompt: date night

pairing/character(s): steddie, hellfire club

it's valentine's week!! hopefully i can do all the prompts this week :)

"And with that, the barkeep..."

Eddie pauses in his storytelling to glance away from the notes hidden by his DM screen and over to the clock. His eyes widen at the time. Is it really 7:53pm already? Shit.

"With that, this session is over. You'll find out what happens with the angry barkeep next week!"

Everyone in the room groans at that, a chorus of 'seriously's and 'what the hell, Eddie's starting up even as he hurries to put his notes back into his DnD folder, and dumps all his dice into his bag haphazardly.

No one seems to notice for a moment, too busy complaining about the cliffhanger, when Gareth suddenly pauses and examines Eddie with a curious look on his face.

"Hold on, you promised we'd finally find out more about the temple this session? Where was that?"

Eddie huffs in response, and doesn't even look up as he starts folding his DM screen.

"Yeah, that was before you guys decided to talk to every single person at the tavern for an hour and start a barfight."

"That's never stopped you from getting us to where you want us before!"

"Yeah!" "Exactly!" "Please, Eddie. What happens with the barkeep."

Eddie waves a hand at everyone, and looks up to see the younger kids complaining quietly to each other, and his closer friends still seeming to inspect him carefully. He supposes they're valid in that; he's not one to back down from his plans, and has never cut off a session like this before.

But. Today is special. Today he has...

"Oh my god, you have a date." Jeff suddenly says, his eyes a little wider than usual as he grabs at Freak's arm.

"What?! Who the fuck would he have a date with?" Freak scoffs.

Eddie ignores the blush fighting to appear on his cheeks and starts collecting all of his figurines scattered around the table.

"Eddie has a date?" Mike suddenly joins in from across the room.

And, great, now the baby sheep are involved too.

"It is none of you guys's business what plans I have after this session. But, really, I gotta go." Eddie tries, but now Dustin's attention is on him as well.

"That's so funny! Steve has a date tonight too- that's why we had to ask Nancy to pick us up tonight." He says with a laugh.

Eddie laughs along with him, a little strained now because Gareth, Jeff and Freak are now squinting at him.

"Yes.. What a coincidence." Gareth says slowly as Eddie continues to pointedly avoid eye contact.

"Anyway! Got a lot to, uh. Do. Running a bit behind schedule actually, so if you could.." Eddie says as he finally finishes shoving everything back into his backpack and throws it over his shoulder, gesturing toward the drama room's door.

The younger kids leave without much complaint, but Gareth, Jeff and Freak hang back and walk slowly alongside Eddie.

"So... Steve Harrington?" Jeff asks once the kids are out of earshot, his tone a little disbelieving.

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing!" Freak slaps him on the shoulder disapprovingly as he speaks.

"It's not a bad thing! Just.. unexpected!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Eddie tries.

"Sure, sure. Enjoy your totally not a date night that's totally not with Steve 'the hair' Harrington." As Gareth says that, they've finally reached the doors and Eddie can well and truly escape.

He's going to have to break a few road laws if he wants to get to Steve's on time. It's only their third date, so sue him if he wants to try to make a good impression.

Even if Steve's been his friend for a few months now, and already knows about his horrible time-keeping skills.... It's still worth a try. Anything to woo Steve Harrington.

-

part two

[thicctails]

I C R A V E more gbc au stuff: particularly with Bill: were the twins aware of Bill before gravity falls? what do they tell the twins about bill once they get there? how does bill and his parents even go about reconnecting?? I want to know more about the direct aftermath of the reunion. It's not hard to piece together Bill and Fords relationship from the journals: did they read into it the wrong direction or smth? Like Bill fucking traumatized Ford: Euclid and Scalene's estranged long lost son fucking severly traumatized and manipulated a realtive of their adoptive kids: there's gotta be more complex feelings there? Does Bill blame them for his medical trauma? do Scalene and Euclid regret that? did they have differing opinions on it back when? also like, now Bill is legit insane: what with him having been percieved insane or a ticking time bomb of insanity before how do they feel about that? do they have differeing opinions?????

FNSKJDFNSDKJ DSI C R A V E MORE FERERJSNJKFDNFKE

PLEASE FEED MEEEEE

Ask and ye shall r e c e i v e

Both Scalene and Euclid were under the impression that Bill died when Euclidea inevitably collapsed in on itself. They told Dipper and Mabel that they had a child, but never went into much detail, as it hurt too much to talk about.

(You can imagine how fucking gutted they were when they saw images of him all around the Shack. Journal 3 was just a big fat gob of salt in their open wounds)

Reconnecting for them is like a healing an infected wound: you have to cut out the rot, grit your teeth for the burn of cleaning it out, work to keep the infection away, and accept the fact that there will be a scar.

Bill is so fundamentally broken and mentally unwell that not even the Axolotl can really fix him. The best he can do is help Bill get to a point where he can begin again in a different form. But getting to that point is the real trouble. It's rotten work, a path laden with pain and suffering and hurt feelings, but it's the only option worth fighting for.

Scalene and Euclid feel immense guilt for the mistakes they made raising Bill. They allowed themselves to be pressured into trying to make their gifted son normal, and everyone they ever loved and then some ended up paying the price. Bill may have started the fire, but their misguided good intentions handed him the match.

Bill himself is a whirlwind of emotions. He is unexplainably relieved that his parents are alive, but that also means that he can no longer possess a false bravado and pretend he intentionally slaughtered his entire dimension. His past is red and blue and in his face, and the voices have only gotten louder since he saw his mother's heartbroken face. Not only that, but they have, in his eye, replaced him with two of the people destined to destroy him! They look at Shooting Star and Pinetree with all the fondness they used to look at him with, and it makes his insides burn.

They also are constantly setting off each other's triggers, like some kind of sick oroborus of trauma. Bill's powers often manifest as pyrokinesis, which isn't great when your parents are still living with the horrific injuries caused by said fire. On the other side of the coin, Euclid has been soothing the twins with gentle TV static since they were little, since his preferred method of manifestation is screen-based technology, (whereas Scalene prefers music and books) which has caused Bill to spiral into a violent panic attack more than once.

As for Ford... well, neither Cipher parent is fond of him, as i've stated, but while they don't know the entire story of how his and Bill's time together was, they know enough to know that it ended in violence and misery, and they are not so heartless that they do not feel pity for the man and disgust towards their son's actions. They make it very clear to their eldest, when they can stand to speak to each other, that he is to never possess another member of the Pines family.

He only breaks that promise once, though it was for a good reason. Gideon needed a good beat down, and Pine Tree was too hurt to make that jump without help.

[captainhotch]

This Love | Roy Kent

note; random ted lasso imagine for the girlies who are in love with roy kent (me). not proof read as per usual

masterlist

There was no such thing as right person wrong time, you reminded yourself for the twentieth time in the past two months as you turned off your tv— absolutely tired of seeing your ex boyfriend blasted all over the football channels.

You had broken up about mid way threw his last season— well, he had broken up with you. You had been together for about a year and a half. A beautiful, really happy year and a half. Sure the man was an absolute grump, preferring more to groan than talk half the time, but he had the largest heart of any person you had ever met. His love was so pure and so kind.

The breakup was a bit of a blindside. He had been playing poorly, slowing down as a consequence of his age catching up. He was making mistakes. And Roy Kent did not make mistakes. So he did what only made sense to him in that moment and cut out all distractions. And you, well you were the biggest distraction of them all.

So you packed all of his things in a cardboard box and marched through the halls of the Richmond FC clubhouse, heals echoing across the lithium floor. Your head was high but your heart was in your stomach as you willed the tears to wait until you were safely back behind the tinted windows of your car.

You smiled at Higgins as you passed him outside of the locker room doors, receiving a sheepish wave back. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your smile paired with the dead look in your eye was absolutely terrifying. Next thing you knew you were dropping the box down on the floor in front of him, whipping your hair over your shoulder, and walking away with a sway of your hips that you know had his eyes glued to your admittedly amazing ass.

It was, of course, an act, cause there you were two months and a retirement later, heart still aching every time you saw the unfortunately handsome man across your screen.

Apparently Roy Kent did, in fact, make mistakes. Maybe not on the pitch, but literally everywhere else. Going home to a bed that didn’t have you in it? A mistake. Not having you by his side through the most difficult decision of his life? A mistake. Watching as you laughed along with Jamie’s flirting across the bar? A horrible, terrible fucking mistake.

Roy Kent was an angry man, but my god did he think he was going to explode in that moment. He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was comically coming out of his ears. He could only be brought to tear his eyes from you at the sound of the seat beside him being pulled out, and an insufferable American accent ordering a whiskey from the bar tender.

“You know Roy— you’re about as subtle as a hot pink convertible driving through a south Georgia suburb.” Ted nodded, eyes following Roy’s to you standing beside a smirking Jamie. “You know you breaking up with her hurt more than my own divorce.”

“Fuck off.” Roy muttered, throwing back the rest of his own whiskey.

“I’m serious man. Y’all two love each other— and no amount of pretending like your don’t will change that. That right there,” he paused, pointing to you—“that is a mighty fine woman. One who loves you. You don’t let something like that slip away if you can help it. Take it from me.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh at Jamie’s jokes. It was a good distraction from being in the same room as Roy for the first time since you had dropped off your stuff. Still you could feel him watching you without even glancing in his direction, like he’d never left. You had to be begged by Keeley to even show face, your dear friend insisting that everyone missed you loads. You had a feeling that she was just testing her theory of the two of you not being able to stay away from each other once you took away the distance.

The back of your neck burned, the same way it would when he’d kiss it in passing. Your stomach, once filled with butterflies, was now heavy with lead. You knew Jamie was only speaking with you to piss Roy off. You didn’t care. Or maybe you did, and that’s why you let it keep going.

You watched with confusion as Jamie’s eyes grew wide peering over your shoulder, “I’ve got to run now love.” He muttered, his thick accent mixed with both of your alcohol intake leaving you in confusion.

You could feel that burning feeling getting worse, palms slicking with nervous sweat. You turned around to to met with a wide chest clad in all black, tipping your head back your eyes danced over a familiar bearded chin up to a set of dark eyes that set you on fire. The familiar, gruff man grabbed your wrist, taking your drink and throwing it back himself before dragging you out to the porch.

Your feet were moving faster than your brain, still struggling to process if this was that recurring dirty dream you kept having, or a much more frightening reality. The cold nipping at your bare arms answered that one quickly— you were always on a beach in that dream.

Before you know it Roy had your back against the railing of a porch, body warmed from where it was trapped against his own. He brought his head down against yours, eyes screwed shut like he was in physical pain. You brought your hands against his chest, fists closed tightly around the material of his overpriced black suit jacket. He smelled familiar, like the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday.

“I’m such a fucking prick.” He muttered against your hair, bringing his hand to cradle the back of your head.

“Damn right.” You responded through a teary laugh against the side of his neck. “Proper fucking idiot you are.”

He let out a gruff laugh, hands coming up to cradle your face— pulling you back gently so he could look at you. His eyes were soft, that special look that he saved just for you painted across his face. You loved him so much that it physically hurt. Even after he took a knife and stabbed you in the chest.

Right person wrong time didn’t exist, because even through everything, Roy never stopped being your right person.

“I will spend every last day of my fucking life making this up to you. If you’ll have me back.” He muttered, eyes scanning your face with such sincere regret you might’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up.

Maybe it was stupid to take him back, but you hadn’t realized until that very moment that Roy Kent owned a very large piece of you. And standing there in his arms, you had finally gotten it back.

[kevin-the-bruyne]

why I thought the kristsingto dance was offensive

My reaction to the KristSingto dance was, in fact, pure and utter shock with an immediate follow up of "well good for Thailand for being so progressive" and that was what I thought would be the end of my engagement with that performance and yet when I read this post by scarefox with commentary added by thebroccolination and hallowpen (mentioned to give credit untagged because I have social anxiety and forcing people to read my post is my worst nightmare) my mind was filled with thoughts that took me the greater part of the day to sort through and I still don't know if the following will be adequate. Because OH HO HO as it turns out Thailand isn't that progressive which means that this performance was constructed to be like this ON PURPOSE. This post is in conversation with some of the concepts brought up in the linked post so it will be helpful in understanding the direction I've chosen to go with this. But the linked post is a great post and you should read it regardless. There is much to love about the Kristsingto concert and even more to love about their sexy dance - the primary of which is how it makes every single one of my Asian sensibilities ring MAD alarm bells. I'm a diaspora south asian but I moved to the US alone when I was 18 which means I have an intact sense of Asian respectability, regularly replenished by my parents. I MEAN LOOK AT IT - THEY ARE ON A FREAKING BED!!!! SIR THAT IS A BEDROOM ACTIVITY ONLY

But some serious highlights as to what about this performance sets it apart: 1) The performance is focused on sensuality and desire. They're dressed like dancers and not particularly sexy ones. Everything about this performance is pared down to only focus on their movements. The costumes are simple, the bed is simple, the lighting mostly monochrome. There is nothing to see here BUT their desire for each other and the sex they are simulating

2) They are playing to each other and ONLY to each other and not the audience. This is probably THE REASON why it clocks differently from literally every other raunchy performance. They are dancing for EACH OTHER. The performance starts behind a screen, and the sex simulation is the most intense at this stage but then THE SCREEN FALLS but for the purposes of the performance, KristSingto don't even acknowledge it. The audience is THRUST into the position of a voyeur and remains so throughout the performance. Like there is a BED that looks like it came straight out of Krist's bedroom like give me a fucking BREAK sir those are inside house, behind closed doors activities you are engaging with on stage.

Even the parts where Krist or Singto face the audience it is a) never together at once and b) they are mirroring each other's movements highlighting their connection to each other over their individual connection with the audience. There is no hip thrusting, no flirtatious looks, absolutely nothing that would even remotely suggest that they're trying to titillate the audience. All the titillation is directed towards each other. This feeling of looking into a private moment is deeply, deeply uncomfortable.

3) It's KristSingto. So much to be said about this and I have a strong feeling that I am not the person who should be speaking about this. But it's Krist and Singto, highly respected veterans of the industry who don't 'need' to be engaging in these types of 'extreme behaviors' to get ahead. So why would Kristsingto need to 'resort' to these behaviors?

Well, because the purpose of art, and I would argue quite specifically queer art, is to push the boundaries of how society allows the 'self' to behave and express itself. There is a reason why BL has captured the fascination of so many straight women. I would argue this is true everywhere but specifically for Asians, the shackles placed on queer sexuality did not feel so different from the shackles placed on women's sexuality period. Queer sexual liberal *is* sexual liberation and there are a lot of outgroup parties who have a vested, personal interest in pushing this agenda forward. I have to stop before this gets so long that I have to find a university to grant me a masters but 'Fanservice Is Wrong' and 'Fanservice Has Finally Gone Too Far' is just the fan service discourse. But the truth is that Fanservice *IS* radical queer visibility and always has been. I started my fandom journey in JPOP nearly 15 years ago and that was the conversation then [link takes you to a fanservice kiss between Ninomiya Kazunari and Ohno Satoshi from Arashi in 2008 that was 6 years in the making but I digress] and apparently if KristSingto will get to have their way that will be the conversation now. To deny their dance as offensive is to deny the incredible ways in which it's in conversation with the society they're operating in, the risks they are still taking even amidst widespread celebration for the Marriage Equality Bill in Thailand.

KristSingto had totally blown the doors, windows and glass ceilings wide open with SOTUS that I would argue had rippling effects on the BL being produced throughout Asia, not just Thailand. And the pressure of that was SO high, that attention so unexpected and burdensome that neither could actually stay and enjoy that moment. OffGun and TayNew had reaped more fruits from KristSingto's labor than Krist and Singto. KristSingto isn't just another branded pair - they are quite literally BL royalty and they are not here to play games. Except this time they are pushing the envelope with their eyes wide open and I am buzzing to see what's next for them.

[hl-obsessed]

✨ FIC REC ✨ | 10-30k

•°•°•°•°•°•

Snowed In by @germericangirl

(E, 15k) Harry wants to fly back home to London after visiting his family for the holidays but a snow storm causes his flight to get cancelled. What happens if the hotel only has one room left for him and the beautiful blue eyed stranger?

✨ Running Home To You by sincewewereeighteen

(E, 18k) Harry can’t help but look at his iTunes library. What he did not expect was to see his name there: Harry Styles, and a half-played album. He has to ask.

“What’s that you were listening to?”

“Oh, it’s this guy, uh- Harry Styles?”

“Hm. Is he any good? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“He’s proper famous, isn’t he?” Louis smirks. “He’s good, believe it or not. Many people don’t give credit to teenage girls, but I don’t regret listening to him.”

“D’you have a favorite?”

“You’ve probably heard Sign of the Times, because everyone’s heard this song…” Louis checks his screen. “Don’t know. This is the best one musically speaking. But there’s something about this one,” he points at his screen, “From the Dining Table. It’s just so sad. Makes one wonder what this guy went through.”

“That tough?”

“Sad.” Louis replies. “Anyways. Don’t be prejudiced and give the pop star a listen. He’s really talented.”

OR: the one in which Harry and Louis take the same plane, and even though they're both sort of nomads, they end up finding a home in each other.

give you my fever by @thelovejandles

(E, 10k) x-factor era. harry's never had an orgasm before, louis gives him his first

If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night) by @fallinglikethis @all-these-larrythings

(M, 15k) Louis accepts the call without bothering to look at the caller ID. Only Zayn would be a big enough asshole to call him at two in the morning. This fucking better be important.

“This fucking better be important,” Louis greets.

On the other end of the line comes a soft giggle. “Li, you don’t usually curse. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I like it.”

 Yeah, that’s not Zayn. Louis sighs, his anger melting into resignation when he realizes that it’s some poor bastard probably drunk dialing his ex or something. “Sorry, mate. Think you’ve got the wrong number."

Based on this Tumblr prompt: "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"

sweet, where you lay by @infinitelymint

(E, 27k) Louis Tomlinson is a twenty-eight year old succesful actor living in New York. Harry Styles is a twenty year old up and coming model and coincidentally also the one who turns Louis’ world completely upside down.

or, Louis is Zachary Quinto and Harry is Miles McMillan. Falling in love was always in the cards for them.

stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 12k) Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

✨ i'm a captain on a jealous sea by @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 15k) It’s not that Louis doesn’t like Nick. He is, if he’s being honest, kind of indifferent. Louis gets that Nick is just doing his job most of the time, being loud and prying, not having boundaries. But it’s just a little too much for Louis’ taste. Louis, who has learned over the years, when to be loud and when to know that coy is the game. But, it doesn’t matter really. He’s not required to like everyone, doesn’t have to make nice with them outside of having a camera shoved in his face. He can let Nick be Nick and it shouldn’t affect Louis at all.

Except.

What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

✨ some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 25k) Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

*

Three years after their break up, Harry calls.

In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 13k) It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.

He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.

It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.

Harry: Hello!

Harry: Thank you for swiping right

Harry: I have a proposition for you

Treat You Like A Gentleman by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 12k) 5 times that Harry Styles was unsatisfied by his dates, and one time Louis Tomlinson helped him find what he had been missing.

Sweet as Honey by TeamLouis

(E, 21k) Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

✨💎 To Have Touched the Sun by @ireallysawanangel

(E, 12k) Louis has been taking suppressants ever since he first presented as an omega, and because of that, he has his heats dwindled down to just once a year. When he suddenly goes into heat in the middle of a supermarket only two months after just having one, he immediately knows something is wrong. It takes the act of a very kind stranger in that supermarket to change Louis' life forever.

Losing Focus Every Time You Speak by @causticsunshine

(E, 19k) “Harry,” he starts, his tone cautious, “what’s this I’m seeing?”

A roll of Harry’s shoulder and the thing catches the light again. “Hm? I dunno what you’re talking about, Lou,” he replies, voice suddenly strained.

Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“This,” Louis reiterates as clearly as he can—by abruptly spreading Harry’s cheeks as much as he can through the confines of his knickers, in turn causing Harry to grunt and Louis to reveal a, fuck, a small bubblegum-pink gem in the shape of a heart, rimmed by a sliver of silver, “you remember now?”

“Oh.” All faux innocence. Louis removes his hands as Harry slowly pulls himself back up, a little red-faced and with a chunky throw in hand. “That? It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Louis repeats, trying for gentle surprise.

Louis returns from an impromptu work trip and enjoys some long-awaited alone time with his favorite person. Lace knickers and a princess plug might have a role to play in things.

✨💎 Eyes on the Horizon by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 12k) Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up. His younger and extremely fit instructor Louis makes him even more nervous than the idea of jumping out of a plane, but both may be exactly what he needs to turn his life around.

Waste the Night by @wicked-archer

(E, 12k) Harry is excited to finally see his favourite band in concert and his favourite person, the guitarist of the band, Louis Tomlinson. Little does he know what the night has in store for him.

✨ Prelude to Forever by @always-aqua

(M, 13k) @StylinHarry: So I kinda fell for a boy yesterday at #ChiPride. Kissed & fireworks went off. Literally. He’s a drama teacher. Goes by “Louis” but I prefer Sunshine. Very pretty. The prettiest. Got separated & I’m a fucking idiot who forgot to get his number. Anyone know him? #helpfindsunshine

Or, Louis and Harry meet at Pride in Chicago and spend the day falling for each other before getting accidentally separated.

Be Mine? by @softfonds

(E, 11k) Getting dumped the week before Valentine's Day wasn't in Harry's plans, and neither was being dragged to a concert to forget about it. But a sign Zayn brings manages to turn his night around in more ways than he hoped for.

Blinded by the Colors by @fallinglikethis

(M, 20k) After a heated fight with Harry, a maudlin, inebriated Louis Tomlinson questions his presence in his boyfriend's life. In fact, maybe all of One Direction would be better off if Louis had never been put in the band to begin with.

He never expected to wake up in a world where that's exactly what happened.

Or an It's A Wonderful Life Au where Louis Tomlinson realizes just how important he really is.

✨ Keep Me Closer by @zanniscaramouche

(T, 18k) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Moonlight Minx by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 15k) The one where an unexpected storm strands Harry on an island, Louis gets an unexpected house guest for the night, and love might just be the most unexpected thing of all.

Love On Air by @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 19k) The one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

✨ Every heart but mine by @rainblou

(E, 17k) In the years leading up to his presentation, Harry hoped that his soulmark would appear, that his soulmate would present first and Harry would have irrevocable proof that his other half was out there, waiting for him.

Years later, he's given up on waiting and with a heat coming up, his eyes are set on Louis Tomlinson to help him through it.

redamancy by @yu-taeil

(G, 10k) dystopian au.

Harry lives in a world where, at the age of 18, everyone gets paired up with a life mate, a perfectly compatible partner. When Harry gets Liam Payne as his soul mate, he thinks nothing of it. It must be true love, right?

But then he meets Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year old who is already partnered up. Harry starts to fall for Louis, and it is not unrequited, but it is against the law.

Harry had always known he’d end up breaking some rules, he just hadn’t quite imagined the magnitude of them.

Sooner or Later by orphan_account

(T, 12k) Louis suspected he might have a little crush. It was harmless enough. It wasn't as if he were any sort of threat to his sister's relationship with Harry, was it?

✨💎 I Just Wanna Give You Love by @lululawrence

(NR, 18k) Graham Norton appeared on the screen introducing his guests and out of nowhere, everything in Louis’ world was turned upside down.

Louis gasped as he intently took in the man on the screen, smiling and waving from his seat beside Sir Ian McKellen.

“Oh my God,” Louis said before it all sank in as to what it meant. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Louis William, you watch your mouth,” Jay said. “What has got into you?”

Feeling like a madman, his palms to his cheeks, Louis couldn’t help the tears of surprise, relief, and fear as he turned to his mum. “What colour are his eyes? What do you call that colour?”

“Louis, are you telling me that the man on the screen, Harry Styles, is your soulmate?”

Or the one where the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate, but Harry is world famous and Louis is...well...not.

Where Life Changed Us by ExiledQueenCatalog

(E, 22k) Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.

Hint: I want to be yours by @greenblueish

(M, 11k) or, the one where Harry unconsciously starts acting like Louis' alpha after they spend his rut together and Louis finds ways to make sure Harry's affection doesn't end.

'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by @2tiedships2

(M, 26k) Harry sat on his bed and stared at the pile of luggage by the door. This was really happening. He was being shipped off to America to get married.

In a matter of months, he would be bonded to an alpha his father had chosen for him. Someone that Harry knew nothing about. Not even his name.

Party Lines by @absoloutenonsense

(E, 25k) Louis works for a phone-sex operating company, collecting credit card information and transferring calls to different operators. On a particularly busy night, everyone is booked up, and one caller has been patiently waiting for more than a few minutes. In a split second decision –one he’s probably going to regret– Louis picks up the call himself.

*

Or Louis accidentally becomes a phone sex operator.

Losing That Reactive Spark by @crazyupsetter

(E, 11k) Prompt 73: ABO fic where Louis is cursed. He can’t touch anyone without a spark of electricity going through his body, causing him to blackout. He meets Harry, the only one the curse doesn’t work on for some reason.

(Gimme a Solution and) Watch Me Run With It by @lululawrence

(NR, 21k) This second, this minute, this hour, this day... hell, this week the trend was for Harry to feel overwhelmed. He was having a hard time not drowning in all of the responsibilities he had heaped upon himself and it had exhausted him. Beyond that, really. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even remember why he used to be so focused on getting back on stage every night.

Fine. Maybe this trend had been going on for even longer than a week. It might have even been months.

Harry is getting dangerously close to his breaking point, and that is when things start to change, starting with a favorite childhood sweet a member of the touring crew leaves for him in his dressing room.

Catching a Partner by berzerkshires

(M, 25k) This documentary follows the story of two people who fell in love in the last place you'd expect. Louis is a detective at the Boston Police Department investigating a trail of recent murders. Harry is the latest victim who survived an attempted murder and is sent to live at a safe house with Detective Tomlinson as the killer is still at large.

This is their story.

No Place I'd Rather Be by @iamasphodelknox

(E, 29k) Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.

Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.

But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.

Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.

baby shut your mouth and turn me inside out by ballsdeepinjesus

(E, 10k) Harry and Louis meet in a mcdonalds. louis is everything harry needs.

The Joke's Always On The Joker, Baby by @greenfeelings

(M, 16k) It’s all about an anonymous one-night stand that turns Harry and Louis’ lives into a rom-com cliché, provides Liam with the perfect opportunity to finally approach the man of his dreams, and confirms Niall that he’s always right.

Hold You With My Hands Tied by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 12k) "There’s a club in town called Habit, and they’re looking for a bartender to cover evenings and weekends. No previous experience required."

Harry furrows his brows. He’s never been to Habit, but he certainly knows what type of club it is. BDSM.

It’s not the ideal position for an Omega surely, but beggars can’t be choosers he supposes. He tilts his head to the side. “And they would be ok with an Omega filling that role?”

Janet scans her eyes over the job description before nodding. “Yes, actually it says here Omegas are preferred but not required.”

Harry sighs.

“When do I start?”

(Or the one where Omega Harry loses his bakery job and is forced to take a temporary position bartending at a local BDSM club. It turns out to be not so bad. Especially when he catches the eye of the owner Louis, who also happens to be a gorgeous Alpha).

if you show up there then you know I will too by @harrybirthdaytoya

(M, 11k) Everyone in Louis' life keeps getting married, but he's almost 30 and single. (He's also grumpy about it). Harry sings in a wedding band, and Louis may have a bit of a crush.

I've Always Liked the Fireworks by QuickedWeen

(T, 12k) When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be.

The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

Hold My Heart by Awriterwrites, phdmama

(E, 14k) Or, the one where famous Louis Tomlinson offers his hand and a lot more to his seat mate on a transatlantic flight.

Torn On The Platform by conscious-ramblings

AU where harry and louis are strangers but they always get the same train to work in the morning and one day harry falls asleep on louis’ shoulder. louis wants to be annoyed because harry just broke a least seven rules of tube conduct but he looks so soft and peaceful that he just lets him sleep and wakes him ever so carefully when it’s his stop. it happens again and again until it becomes a regular thing where louis will let harry snooze and then gently nudge him awake, hand him the cup of coffee he took from him so it wouldn’t slip and spill everywhere and send him off with a “have fun at work, love” and after the tenth time harry isn’t even embarrassed anymore.

Cue changing work schedules, missing each other for the first time in weeks, panicking because “i don’t even know his name, why didn’t i ask for his name”, dramatic waiting on platforms and finally bumping into each other again when they least expect it

✨💎 Tell Me Your Secrets, Teach Me Your Ways by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 23k) The day after turning eighteen, Omega Prince Harry is expected to meet with eligible Alpha suitors. It's a day he's been looking forward to all his life, desperate for romance and yearning to find his mate.

What he doesn't expect to find, however, is that he's one half of a historic soul-tied union: a phenomenon last seen over a century ago. Luckily, his future mate is everything he ever dreamed of finding.

But... that's just the problem. Louis makes Harry feel things he's never felt before and has no way to describe. He knows that once they're married, he and Louis are meant to mate, but what that actually entails is a mystery…

Who better to ask about these feelings than his mate-to-be?

AKA: A regency-ish royalty AU featuring overeager soulmates who maybe give into temptation a little too much on their secret journey of sexual discovery.

The way you move for me baby (lights me up like nobody else) by @thechavier

(M, 12k) Those green eyes found him again and he struggled thinking of what to say.

"You look beautiful in that dress" It's what he landed on. (...) "You know I wrote a song back in the day called little black dress?"

He didn't imagine the little spark in his eyes, nor the pleased smirk on his lips, nor the tongue peeking out to wet them.

"Why do you think I chose it for tonight?"

or the rolling stones awards au

Talk Dirty To Me by BriaMaria

(E, 13k) Or the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it's a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.

Because Sparrows Mate For Life by @builtyouahousefromabrokenhome

(E, 24k) Harry’s tattoo gets done all wrong, and he needs someone to fix it.

Bend Like a Hairpin by @letthemusicmoveyou28

(M, 26k) Or the one where FBI agent Harry Styles screws up in a mission and he has one more chance to save his career. He’s going undercover as a stripper to investigate a strip club suspected of money laundering. There’s just 2 problems: 1) Harry can’t dance, and 2) he might be falling for the club’s owner Louis, who just happens to be the prime suspect.

Celebrity Discount by @loaded-gunn

(T, 27k) Louis fell for Prince Harry when he was ten and Harry was eight and peeked behind the Queen’s elegant gown for his first public appearance—a shy smile and a mess of curls. He fell for him when he caught Lottie putting up a magazine cover of Harry on her wall and all she had to say for herself was, “He’s such a good person, yeah?” and, yeah. He fell for him when Harry gracefully accepted his demotion. He fell for him when Harry came out and stayed out.

tonight's not over (come over and stay) by @adoredontour

(E, 17k) Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?”

Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password.

“No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?”

“Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis.

“Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?”

or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

where sirens fear to tread by @stylinsoncity

(M, 28k) in the royal line, there are only a select few sirens with the ability to transform into humans once a month. harry is one of those sirens. he mostly sticks to the rules. when he's on land, he reads his books. he buys copious amounts of ice cream. he keeps to himself. that is until he meets a lifeguard named louis working at one of the luxury resorts on St Barts. and unfortunately, harry doesn't know the rules about falling in love at all.

✨💎 When The Stars Come Out by @briannamarguerite

(E, 30k) Louis was about to reassure Harry further when Gemma bounded back over to him, slipping a hand around Louis' waist. Harry’s eyes followed the movement. And then that lip gnaw again. Christ. How was he supposed to survive this weekend?

He turned his attention to Gemma as her palm came to rest right above his heart. Laying it on a bit thick, dear. Or at least that’s what he hoped he’d conveyed with the simple tilt of an eyebrow.

In response, she went up on tiptoes and laid a noisy kiss on the hollow beneath his cheekbone. Louis didn’t take his eyes off Harry, who watched the scene play out with a blank expression. Once Gemma dropped back to the ground, Harry shifted away from them, his gaze dropping to his feet.

[Or the one where Louis pretends to be Gemma's boyfriend for her horrid cousin's wedding but fate is a nasty jerk and throws Harry in his way.]

•°•°•°•°•°•

part 1 (+50k) | part 2 (30-50k)