#Hes not even drunk this is his natural state

[bluedillylee]

just part of the everyday hazards when Jaskier likes you

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[kenntolog]

Oh oh! I want to tag in!! I’m not entirely sure if this is something you’re comfortable with, but since cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader takes place in university, I think I’d be super cool seeing sukuna get wasted and being so soft to reader and just loving her while she’s all flustered and maybe on the verge of tears cause she feels so loved (not that she didn’t before, but sukuna is like, being extra about it you know?), thought it be cute!!

𝝑𝝔 an: hey sweet anon!! this is indeed very cute and charming so i hope you enjoy my interpretation!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! wc: throwing up, drinking.

cool boyfriend sukuna is so wasted he loses his filter completely, his affectionate nature that was sealed deep inside of him, threatening to break out only for his loser girlfriend, finally free of it’s restraints.

“you’re always so good t’me, baby,” he mumbles, face snug in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and in any other setting in would’ve been very very sweet, but not when he’s laying on top of you by the entrance of your place, having lost his balance when trying to get out of his shoes.

“‘kunaa~ d’you wanna maybe get up?” you whine, trying to move him off.

“i’ll stay where i want,” he lifts his head up, a frown appearing on his face before he visibly stiffens. you eye him warily before you realise that he’s probably going to throw up and it’s gonna be all over you if he doesn’t move.

thankfully, sukuna has mercy and quickly moves away from you, standing up and running to the bathroom, and soon enough you hear him groaning in pain and agony. you rub his back through it all, cringing at the way he still manages to curse in between choking on his own vomit, and lift him up making him drink some water and get ready to wash his teeth.

he’s still very much drunk, now uncharacteristically quiet as he stares at you through the mirror while brush his teeth carefully. he’s probably capable of doing it himself, you think, but you don’t think he should let go of the sink’s edge, still swaying a bit from side to side.

since you’re focused on brushing his teeth so you don’t notice his half-lidded gaze on you until you’re done, instructing him to spit out the excess toothpaste.

“let’s get you to bed, ‘kuna,” you mumble, shy under his intense gaze, and tug him by his arm gently, leading him out of the bathroom.

sukuna falls on the bed like a sack of potatoes, pulling you down along with himself as he sighs in delight.

“g’night, baby.” he mutters, holding you close to his chest, but you chuckle nervously, trying to get out of his hold instead since you still had to change and do your routine before sleep. “where the hell are you goin’?”

“i gotta change and wash—”

“no, i can’t sleep without you, baby,” he pouts and you can barely keep your face intact to not give away your bewilderment because this is a revelation for you. his arms tighten around you a little as he glares at you sleepily.

“it’ll take just a couple of minutes, ‘kuna,” you attempt to negotiate once again. he stares at you for a few seconds before groaning and sitting up.

“‘m comin’ with you.”

you sigh, suppressing your growing smile, but don’t resist and let him tug you both into your bathroom.

———————

“you don’t even have to do all this shit,” sukuna complains quietly now that he’s settled: head heavy on your shoulder with arms wrapped around your middle as he blinks slowly and yawns occasionally.

you don’t give him an answer, busy with the last step of your routine, before you feel him breathing you in slightly, lips nipping on the skin of your neck.

“you’re the prettiest girl in the world for me,” he mutters simply, kissing your jaw and cheek as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. you feel your face heat up when his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, your flustered state now more visible. “the best girl in the world.”

“s’kuna,” you mumble, looking down at your hands so that he doesn’t see your cheeks dusting with the embarrassing pink.

he ignores you, fingers clasping around yours as he pulls you out of the bathroom and to your bed. once again, sukuna drags you into the bed with himself, covering you both with your blanket.

“my girl,” he sighs with a sleepy grin and cups your face with both hands, leaning in to place a kiss on your nose and lips. “took care of me so well t’night.”

you almost whine in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest so sukuna doesn’t see the way your bottom lip juts out and eyes get watery as you try your best to not sniffle so much. the amount of love you feel from him is so overwhelming you start feeling stupid for the way you don’t know whether to laugh in delight or cry from the softness.

“love you so much.”

“love you too, ‘kuna.”

+ bonus!

“were you cryin’ into my chest?”

“n-no, why’d you say that?”

“you totally were, loser.”

“sukuna!”

[retroellie]

Mile-high club

Summary: After a month of not having sex, you decide to be bold with what you want from spencer. Stepping out of both your comfort zones due to complete sexual frustration.

A/N: This one is a bit rushed, but can y'all tell what my faviote spencer era is? Like i love long haired spencer i can not! Also yall... I just turned 19 :) So that's a little life update lmao. Anyways love and miss y'all!!

Warnings: NSFW, public sex and dirty talk

Word count: 5.4K

As with any other case, this case dragged on and on until you felt you were nothing but skin and bones. Cases always left you feeling so empty inside, always so bleak... it always took you a bit to come back to your natural self. The first rule of being a part of the FBI is never to take it personally, don't take it to heart. But how could you not? You're inviting yourself into these people's lives, picking apart their brains, and using that to your advantage. You knew it was for the best but that didn't mean you had to like it.

You were doing what you normally did after cases, drinking hot tea on the jet aching for the sweet release of sleep. This time, however, you weren't aching for sleep. This entire week there was a thought always in the back of your mind, you weren't sure why it was this case specifically but for some reason, the thought lingered. Spencer... You felt yourself heating up every time around him, focusing only on his hands when he was showing you paperwork or squeezing your thighs together as you watched his hips. You had never been the needy one in the relationship, it has always been Spencer... but something about him now left you hungry. You racked it off to just you being hormonal, but you knew it was because Spencer's hands hadn't been on you for a while. Back-to-back cases like these always left no time to get down with Spencer... one downside to this job among many.

Even now, while sitting on the jet, you could only look at him. Emily and JJ were talking about god knows what, while you started across the jet to see your little Spencer. He was reading, his hands so delicately following as he read... His hair had gotten long, almost touching his shoulders now. You had gotten real used to pulling on it, sometimes subconsciously doing it as you hugged him. You started to think about how he looked last time you made him whimper, the picture burnt into your brain as you slid yourself up and down until he begged you to stop. "too much...." was all he could muster up, his wrist rubbing against the rope as he so badly wanted to reach up to touch you.

"You hear Y/N?" You heard a voice say, your heart dropping as you whipped your head towards it.

The voice belonged to Emily, her eyebrow raised as she wondered what you were thinking. She could see that something was up and not just because she was a profiler. Anyone who could see how you were looking at Spencer could see exactly how you were feeling, sexually frustrated. The way you gripped onto your coffee mug, and bit the inside of your lip roughly... basically eye fucked Spencer. Obviously, you could never tell Emily how you were thinking about Spencer being so pussy drunk that it physically hurt him. So you just sent a smile over to her, brought your tea to your lips, and nodded.

"Yeah! Sorry..." You kept the grin on your face, your embarrassment getting the best of you as you began to become flustered. "Just a bit distracted today."

You flicked your eyes between my cup and Emily, not wanting to make too much eye contact in the state you were in, your state being extremely turned on. It was gross to even admit, but even just looking at Spencer... your body reacted. Emily looked over at JJ, shooting her a look. You caught onto this, but not sure what that look even meant. JJ just chuckled softly, shifting herself in her chair. You looked between them, feeling as though you were left out of a really funny inside joke of theirs. Emily looked back at you, giving you a smirk.

"I can see that..." She leaned back in her chair, hands placed on her stomach as she read your confusion. "Been a while?"

Her words confused you, not sure what she meant by that. You now started feeling like you were the butt of the joke, feeling like you did in high school when girls would giggle behind you. "Been a while." Could mean anything, has it been a while since you showered? Has it been a while since you ate? Has it been a while since you went to a concert? The possibilities were endless yet Emily still expected an answer. You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side.

"What?" You asked, genuinely needing an explanation before you could even answer her question. Emily chuckled once again, looking back at Spencer before huddling herself closer to you as if she had to tell you a huge secret.

"You and Spencer?" That was all she said.

Your heart dropped, was Emily a mind reader? or were you just that frustrated that it was written on your skin? Her words made you think, however, how long has it been? It was definitely before this case and the one before it... then there was that 4-day conference y'all were forced to attend, well then that one week you got your period and didn't feel like doing anything but laying in bed... You would say it's been a good month, maybe a little more. This was definitely not normal for you two, sex was like food to the two of you. It was y'alls way to destress from cases, it became so normal to go home after a long case and bang it out. Trust and believe this drought had been taking a toll on you, you were so horny that you could start humping Spencer's leg at any moment, just like a dog in heat.

You hesitated to answer, not wanting to cross that boundary with Emily but also not wanting to be humiliated. You were the more private person when it came to the BAU, you would come in and do your work... that's it. Obviously, you were a part of the BAU family, you knew everyone's business and you would hang out with them outside of work. But you were a mystery to everyone there, well except Spencer, he had quite literally known you inside and out. As of right now though, you were frustrated and in need of a rant so that boundary didn't exist for you today.

"Is it that noticeable?" You said sarcastically, scoffing as you did so. You hated the feeling of being easily read, but the frustration was sloshing around inside you so it was only a matter of time before the people around you figured it out. Emily chuckled softly, looking over at JJ before she spoke.

"I mean you have been grouchy, you're not focused, and well..." Emily paused, she was now reading you like a book. "You've been undressing Spencer with your eyes this entire trip."

You wanted to melt into the ground, and let the worms use your flesh as food. You were embarrassed, completely and utterly ashamed of her words. You were acting like a starved man, only able to focus on the mere thought of food... like a complete glutton-driven man. You never really knew how much you needed sex, you started to wonder if you always had this need deep inside you. You remember before Spencer, you went months without an orgasm and was perfectly fine. Maybe it was Spencer, maybe his cock switched something on inside your pussy... or maybe other men hadn't been doing it right.

You felt your cheeks heat up but at the same time, your body ran cold. All you could do was watch as Emily snickered at your reaction, like your embarrassment was the funniest thing she had ever seen. You were much younger than Emily and JJ, you were newer to this world and newer to sex than they were. Trust and believe that both women have had their share of droughts, so this is not new to them. They weren't trying to embarrass you or make you feel you needed to be ashamed. No, they just found it amusing that you were so blinded to the fact you were so obvious with your motives. Let's just say your subtle touches and comments towards Spencer weren't so subtle.

"I just..." You start, your voice sounding as though you were pouting and honestly... you were pouting. "It used to be every day! Every night, after work... like clockwork! But this stupid fucking job is getting in the way of us, I mean sex is how we communicate!"

Your voice is rising, alerting the sleeping Derek who sat right behind you. He was too tired to even comprehend what you were talking about, which surprised you because he always teased you and Spencer about your sex life. The girls didn't laugh this time, only watched as you looked like you were going crazy. They didn't realize how upset you were about this, this felt it went far beyond sex to you. It did in some sense, as said before you and Spencer were always having sex so if there was no sex happening... there was no and him happening either. This could turn into a therapy session, you could cry about how you felt ignored and put aside but it wasn't that at all... you were just so horny for Spencer, this frustration building up and ready to burst. JJ sighed softly, patting you on the shoulder.

"I get it... I mean we get it." She points between her and Emily, shooting Emily a smile. "Y/N... You need to have sex or you're going to go insane."

Emily nods, agreeing with JJ's clear over-exaggeration. You felt like you were already going insane, you couldn't do anything without the thought of Spencer's cock down your throat completely eliminating your focus. So although it was clear JJ was being dramatic about it, you felt it was pretty accurate for the feeling inside you. You let out a sigh, pushing your hair back as you leaned back in your chair. You have been at this job for 4 years, and insanity came with the job, so this feeling of complete and utter insanity due to not having sex was killing you simply because it was so new to you.

"Trust me, I know." Was all you said, biting your lip softly as your eyes flicked over to Spencer once more.

He was now leaning back in his chair, his thighs slightly opened as his hands were placed on them delicately. He was looking out the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun started to set. You couldn't help but look at his veiny hands placed so pretty on his thighs, you suddenly gained tunnel vision and your eyes started to outline his cock. Spencer sensed you looking at him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he turned his head. He made eye contact with you, sending you a soft smile. Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back, that opened the floodgates inside of you.

"You know what you should do?" JJ asked, trying to get your attention, and in only milliseconds... she had it. "You need to make him want it, it's what I used to do with Will all the time when I was pregnant, and believe me pregnancy hormones are no joke."

How does one go about making someone want them? You were no stranger in the teasing scene, it was your favorite thing to do with Spencer. But you haven't even had 2 seconds to tease him since the drought started, so you were a bit out of practice. Spencer would usually be a puddle on the floor you stepped on in seconds when you teased him, but he was so stressed that he couldn't tell his ass from his head sometimes. You were more than willing to know how JJ did it, and how she made men want her in times of desperation. 

"How?" You ask, feeling slightly more embarrassed by your sudden confusion. JJ thinks for a second, looking over at Emily for her to pitch in at any moment.

"There's many ways to do it, all people are different Y/N" Emily chuckled, looking over at JJ who was still thinking about how she even managed to seduce Will like she did. "My advice is just be overly affectionate with him, you know? Touch him more, show a little more skin, laugh louder... Just make it known, be loud with it."

You took in her words, especially the "make it known" and "be loud with it". You felt you could do that, with how frustrated you had become you could see yourself screaming for him to just fuck you. It would be a bit hard because Spencer is kind of not good with social cues, if you try to flirt with him sometimes, he just throws statistics your way. You repeated the words "make it known" in your head, how could you make it known... at that moment as you repeated it in your head like a mantra, you had such a devilish idea. Your hands almost started shaking due to excitement, the feeling taking over your body as you went to speak.

"I can do that..." You said with a smile, standing up from your seat and fixing your shirt. "I need to use the restroom, be right back."

You basically ran to the bathroom, zooming past Spencer who was quite confused at your sudden rush. You locked yourself in the small bathroom, the excitement taking over your body as you could see yourself start doing handstands due to excitement. You pulled out your phone, setting yourself on the small counter sink as you started to pull your shirt off. You weren't sure how to do this, your nerves getting the best of you as you clicked on your camera. You had no time to think, you just pulled your shirt off and aimed your camera at your chest.

The first one was more of a softcore nude, only in your bra as your hand laid on your chest. You took a couple of pictures with your bra on, then you clicked through them, deleting the ones you didn't like. You would've stopped there but you wanted to go the extra mile, you were "being loud" with it as Emily would say. You pulled your bra off, watching it fall to the floor, the nerves in your stomach only fooling you to go further. You pointed the camera at your chest, snapping a couple of pictures. Again, you weren't good at this... you never claimed to be, so you took pictures from multiple angles and positions. Some you were squeezing them together, some you weren't.... you weren't a model or a photographer so you were working with what you had.

You finished, hopping down from the sink and putting your clothes back on. You sat on the lidded toilet, scrolling through the pictures as you picked the ones you would send. You were nervous to say the least, you knew it was just Spencer but you had never taken sex outside of the bedroom before. This was new, this was scary... this was so arousing. You clicked on Spencer's name, his name being "spencie poop" In your phone, you clicked on the pictures you wanted and hovered over the send button. Would this work? what if he isn't into it as much as you are? What were you even doing?

"Make it known. be loud with it." You repeated in your head, closing your eyes before clicking the send button. It took only seconds for it to send the anticipation building in your stomach. You decided to stay sitting in the toilet for a little longer, getting yourself together before you faced the world behind the small bathroom door. You knew Spencer wouldn't see the pictures until later on, knowing that he always put his phone on silent as he hated technology, especially when it interrupted his reading time. You wondered how he would react, knowing that Spencer didn't know how to react to most things. You wouldn't be surprised if Spencer sent you a thumbs up and a message saying how pretty you look, you weren't sure this would even work in your favor.

You gathered yourself, breathing in and out before you stood up to leave the bathroom. As you reached for the door, there was a small knock on it. You assumed it was someone who needed to use the bathroom, you had been in there for a good 15 minutes before you decided to leave. You reached for the door, opening it... Your heart dropped, your entire body went hot and your underwear became wetter than before. It was Spencer, his face was bright red and his hands shook softly. He didn't give you time to even open the door all the way before he barged into the small bathroom with you, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"Are you crazy?" He whispered, hoping no one else saw him or heard him come in. You were pressed against the sink, Spencer pressed against you as the small bathroom was not made for two. "Are you trying to get me in trouble? what if someone had seen?"

Spencer looked upset but his hard cock against your stomach gave his true feelings away. Spencer could never be mad at you, you knew this and you took advantage of it often. Unfortunately, Spencer was very by the books, he followed all the rules but when it came to you... rules didn't exist. So he wasn't actually upset about the pictures, he was just frustrated you decided to send them now. While Hotch was sitting right next to him, a clear shot of his phone and everything. You bit your lip softly, your eyes being pulled toward his cock rubbing against your belly, there was no hiding that in this small compact area.

"Seems like you liked them.." You teased softly, chuckling out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer could have come then and there, your innocence creating a deep desire within him. He let out a sigh, his breath panning across your face as he did so smelling of coffee and mint. You brought your hand up to his tie, fiddling with it softly as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to come face-to-face with him. Spencer's breath hitched as your lips brushed his own, his mind going foggy and forgetting where he was in the moment... Something inside him though reminded him, the small voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea and the team was only feet away from you both. As you started to undo his belt, He grabbed onto your shoulders, pushing you back softly.

"Y/N, that was extremely inappropriate..." He said sternly, trying not to give in to your pleading eyes. "Hotch was right next to me an..."

His words were cut off by your hand grasping his cock softly. In the short time, he had been scolding you, you managed to stuff your hand down his pants, Spencer was far too focused on trying to not give into your motives he didn't even realize. Spencer became putty just then, your hand rubbing his cock slowly cutting his iq down by 100. You knew this was also a horrible idea, I mean were you really going to let your twisted, horny mind risk your job? The answer was, yes... yes you were. If it meant that Spencer would be inside of you, then you would do anything.

"I know baby... I've been so bad." You whispered out, your hand still wrapped around his cock. You fluttered your eyes up at him, watching as his ability to control himself slowly disappeared. "But I had to! it's been so long, you have me all worked up and it's starting to hurt."

You rub his cock softly, his own eyes fluttering shut as you turn him into putty. Spencer hadn't even realized how long it had been, he didn't have much time to think about anything but work nowadays. He didn't realize it until he almost came in your hand just from a few pumps. His body had heated up, his cheeks red as you slid your thumb across his tip. His head was foggy but he still couldn't get past the thought that his boss was just outside the small bathroom you both had been in. He stiffened himself up again, putting a hand on your wrist.

"Y/N, the team is inches away from us." He spoke, pulling your hands from his pants and doing up his belt again. "I promise you I will let you do whatever when we get home to make up for these last couple of weeks okay?"

Trust and believe that it took Spencer his entire self-control to say no to you, especially after seeing those pictures. Your half-naked body, the way you looked up at the camera for him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get his cock to soften after knowing those pictures existed, he knew this was going to be a long trip home. He struggled with getting his belt looped, his hands shook so vigorously that they were no help to him. You finally reached your hand out to stop his hands, reaching up to lift his head to look up at you.

"Spencer, if you tell me to stop right now... I will." You spoke, you were frustrated and it was so obvious you both needed this. "I will stop and we can walk out of here like nothing happened okay? I just need you to say "I want this to stop." and that's it, I'll stop. But all i need is 5 minutes, I'll get us both off and no one will even notice.``

Spencer thought for a moment, seeing how serious you were. He knew you would never force him to do anything, so he knew if he really did tell you to stop, you would. but he really didn't want you to stop, his "professional FBI agent" side told him to stop but his "love drunk" side didn't want you to stop. All he could think about was your pictures and how uncomfortable this boner was going to be for the rest of the plane ride if he didn't just flat-out fuck you.

He tried to calculate just how far away the team was from the two of you and what the chances of them hearing the two of you were. He came up with it being 72% they won't hear the two of you, due to the fact the bathroom is a bit insulated and most of the team liked to sit far from the bathroom. You could see him doing this math in his head just by the look on his face, you chuckled to yourself knowing this was a complete Spencer Reid thing. Spencer struggled internally, both his logical and hormonal sides butting heads just as he looked down at you with those pretty doe eyes you kept giving him. Spencer was going to burst, the month of no sex finally catching up to him all at once.

"Fuck it..." He said right before crashing his lips onto yours.

Now Spencer Reid must have really been frustrated as he never used words like that, but something about you just sent him over the edge each time. You kissed him back immediately, his hands kept your mouth on him as his tongue slid into your mouth. It was all so fast-paced, just like you said it would be... you just needed five minutes. You reached down to his half-done belt and started undoing it once more, trying to focus on his lips and your hands at the same time. Spencer was so completely engulfed in the kiss that he couldn't even contemplate helping you at all, he just pressed you against the sink hinting at you to hop on it.

You positioned yourself on the sink, Spencer's hands going to your ass to prevent you from falling into it. You finally got his pants undone, pulling them down so only his cock could bounce free causing a soft groan to fall from his lips. You smirked softly into the kiss, feeling just as hard he had gotten just from your little "fight".

"Really liked them huh?" You said through the kiss, Spencer just kissed you harder trying to get you to shut up.

You just laughed softly, your hands now going to your own pants to take them off. You struggled with your pants, trying to keep Spencer's mouth satisfied with your mouth while also trying to get out of your very tight pants. Spencer noticed this, pulling away from you to help you slide your pants down your thighs and watching them bunch up on your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Spencer didn't even bother with your panties, he just pushed them to the side and slid himself into you.

"Fuc.." Was all he could get out before he stuffed his face into your neck, silencing his moans that were bound to come out.

Your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You felt whole again, his cock sliding inside of you like it never left. Spencer didn't sit still for long before he started thrusting inside of you, his hands gripping your hips roughly. Spencer's thrust started rough and fast, taking your word for it only taking 5 minutes. To avoid suspicion and losing your job, you both needed to hurry up and get off.

You couldn't help but get lost in the feeling, finally after weeks of needing to be fucked and it's actually happening plus the feeling of getting caught only added to the pleasure. You thrust back into Spencer, lifting your hips off the counter just to slam your own hips into his. It went like this for minutes, both of you breathing heavily and using each other's bodies to get off. Suddenly you felt a knot inside of your form, your hands moving up to his hair to pull on it to alert him.

"Gonna cum... fuck gonna cum." You whispered into his ear, as his face was still stuffed between your neck and your shoulder. He was afraid if he replied, he was going to not be able to control the moans that came from his throat.

He just thrusted faster, his hand coming up to rest on the mirror as you both were being pushed further and further up onto the sink so the faucet was almost digging into your back. He let out a couple of soft whimpers as his thrust became sloppier, his eyes tearing up as his cock twitched. He'd never come this fast before, only besides the first few times you both had fucked, but this was a record and it was clear he had become so backed up that this was definitely needed.

He came first, coating the inside of your walls with his hot cum, fucking himself through his own orgasm as well as coaxing you to your own. You came only moments later, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck and his hot cum inside of you... you broke. You came with a soft moan and your nails digging into his shoulders. It wasn't the best orgasm he had ever given you but it was so needed, it felt like you had been given water after days of dehydration.

As said before, you needed to be quick so after a few seconds of recovering from ecstasy, you both were pulling your clothes back on. It felt dirty in a way, aftercare, and soft kisses weren't a luxury you had at the moment. You watched as he pulled his pants back on, once again struggling with his belt. You realized how lighter and rested he looked now like the quickie was the thing he was missing his entire life. You chuckled softly, moving your hands down to his belt to help him loop it through.

"Guess we just joined the mile-high club huh?" You smirked up at him, his face still red with lust. Spencer chuckled softly, watching as your hands fixed his belt.

Spencer was almost embarrassed that he allowed you to sit high and dry for almost a month straight, he hadn't even thought of touching you that entire time. Although his mind had been elsewhere the entire time, it still felt wrong for a person to completely deny you of anything. Spencer felt he needed sex as much as you did, something he would have never thought he would ever need. He now understands why Morgan is the way he is, the constant need to feel that closeness to someone... to feel so vulnerable, especially in a job where vulnerability is a weakness. You noticed that Spencer had been in his head again, he always just had that look to him.

"You okay?" You asked, your hands now fixing his hair slightly. "I didn't push a boundary did i?"

Spencer shook his head almost immediately, the feeling of any discomfort so far away it wasn't even there. Spencer felt completely comfortable with you, even if it was such a weird situation to be in. He just got into his own head a lot, letting his mind wander and making up all kinds of assumptions about things. The assumption on his mind right now was that maybe having a healthy, functioning relationship in this field was almost impossible. You both hadn't had a single conversation that wasn't about a case or coffee or anything that didn't involve the office, in weeks. Could you both go on like that or are you both destined to just have quickies in the jet bathroom for the rest of your careers.

"No! Of course not!" He breathed out, basking in your soft hands touching his face softly, something you had done to comfort him. "Just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately, didn't know you were feeling this...ignored?"

He wasn't sure what the right word to use was and honestly, you didn't know either. You weren't actually angry with him, just frustrated especially when your only kind of stress release was coming home and fucking him till he cried. You continued to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, pushing his hair back from his face.

"I'm not mad honey." You chuckled, trying to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. "Just please start checking in with me okay? So the feelings don't build up and we have to risk our jobs again."

Your joke caused Spencer to crack a smile, his laugh filling the small bathroom. He nodded, leaning down to set a soft kiss on your lips. The reality started to sit in however, you both just fucked on the job basically and the embarrassment and shame were written all over both of you. You both had only been gone for 15ish minutes so it was going to be an easy lie to come up with, you'll probably blame it on your motion sickness that you actually feel often on the jet. You both agreed on a story, you had gotten sick and asked Spencer to hold your hair back, easy enough. You went to open the door, taking a breath before facing your team again.

"Hey y/n?" Spencer spoke, stopping you in your tracks before you opened the door. You gave him your full attention, turning to see his eyes once again filled the lust. "I did like them...You should definitely start, you know I'm...Sending them more often."

You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes before walking out of the bathroom. You both nonchalantly went back to your seats, as if nothing happened. JJ and Emily were talking about something when you got back, completely lost in conversation to realize what had just happened. You looked around at everyone, trying to see an inch of disgust or knowing on their faces. Fortunately, everyone was oblivious to the events that happened in the bathroom so you could relax in your seat. You tried to listen in on JJ and Emily's conversation, putting your two cents in here and there but your eyes kept flicking over to Spencer. He was now boring his eyes into your skin, making your body heat up once again. You could tell that what was supposed to be a simple quickie, was definitely not over yet and it was going to be a long trip home. 

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part nine

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight

You don’t even know what you’re doing here and why you’re spending your time like this. Lando and you flew back to Monaco only yesterday, just to flight back to the last race of the triple header tomorrow. He insisted that he wanted to go back home for a bit, so you naturally followed him. Today he told you he needed to fix some Quadrant things with Max, meaning you’d be left on your one. A bit weird since you normally join them when they’re doing stuff for Quadrant. Not wanting to do nothing for the whole afternoon, you asked some friends to lunch together. Which is why you’re sitting in a small lunchroom in the centre of Monaco. 

You shouldn’t have asked them for lunch. The last time you saw your friends, they kept going on about their sex life and the non-existing one of you. This time it’s almost the same, expect that they don’t stop about yours. 

“You really should just get drunk, find some guy and let him fuck you,” one of your friends state. It’s too bad that it’s too early in the afternoon to start drinking, because being drunk sounds as a solution to make this lunch ‘date’ better. Another friend of yours laughs, “You’d feel better with a bit of experience,” she says. You don’t know what to reply to them, you simply roll your eyes. 

You remember what Lando told you when you were drunk and he picked you up. According to him boys would like it, maybe even preferred it if you’re a virgin. You wonder why he said that, was it to make you feel better or is there a truth hiding under it? 

“Guys stop,” another friend says. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of their remarks. Not that you have to hear them to know what they’re saying. “Why don’t you ask Lando to do it?” Your friend asks, “He seems like he’s pretty vanilla during sex, so he probably won’t hurt you,” she adds. It causes you to let out a soft chuckle. They should know.

“Why is everyone so concerned about my virginity?” You ask annoyed when they still continue to make jokes about it, “It’s not even that I’m this concerned about it.”

“It’s just that probably no boy wants someone who’s as inexperienced as you,” is one of the answers you get within seconds. Your friend gets slapped on her arm by someone else for being this direct. “Maybe some guys like it,” you sigh as a response. 

“Girl, no boy likes it.”

“When you finally find some guy and act al prudish with him, he will probably cheat on you in no time,” another friend adds. 

“Prudes get cheated on.”

Reality crashes down on you. Annoyed but mostly sad you get up from your chair, you walk up to the register and pay for you own lunch before turning back to your friends. You can barely stop yourself from crying. Fuck, why are you even friends with them? Lando told you multiple times that they don’t deserve your kindness. “I’m leaving,” you state before turning away from them and walking out of the cafe. No one stands up to follow you, not that you’re surprised of that. 

When you walk further away from the place, you realize that you have no idea what to do now. All of your stuff is still at Lando his place, since you’re sleeping at his. But Lando isn’t home, right? You sigh. A couple tears run down over your cheeks. Should you just call him? Maybe he can pick you up as well. Without further thinking about it, you search for Lando his number and call him. 

“Hey babygirl,” Lando greets you within seconds of you calling him. You don’t know why, but when you hear Lando his voice more tears start to roll down on your cheeks. Before giving Lando a proper greeting, you can only let out a sob. “What’s going on?” Lando is quick to ask you, “Did your friends say something mean?” He doesn’t even need to ask, he already knows. You let out another soft sob.

“Can you come get me?” You ask Lando.

“Yes, yes of course,” he replies, “Send me your location, I’m already walking towards the car.”

Lando doesn’t know what to say, or maybe how to express his feelings and thoughts into actual logical sentences. You’re sitting next to him in his car while he’s driving back to his apartment. Since he picked you up, you haven’t said anything about what happened. He can only guess, but his best guess is that your ‘friends’ said something completely unhinged and mean what caused you to get like this.

When Lando parks his car and opens your door for you, he doesn’t know what to do. He wants to take you into his arms and cuddle you until you feel better, but he has no idea if that’s what you want as well. Today was suppose to be ‘the’ day. Fuck, now that he thinks about it - his apartment is a mess. He lied to you about his meeting with Max, there was none. He just needed you gone for a bit, so he could surprise you. Before you called he was busy with lighting candles, throwing around rose petals and creating a nice, cozy atmosphere so you would feel at home. He was almost done when you’re called, but left in a hurry to come and get you. Most of it is in his bedroom, but he’s pretty sure that you can find some hints in the living room as well. 

Together you walk inside of the apartment. “Want to talk about it?” Lando asks you. 

“Not yet,” you answer honestly, “I’m taking a shower first.” 

Lando shows you a simple nod, giving you your time while cursing your friends in his head. He presses a small kiss against the top of your head, before he lets you walk off to the bathroom. Lando wachtes when you walk away from him. He wonders what your friends said that causes you to be sad like this. He can remember multiple times that this happened, last time it was about your sexual inexperience but before that it could be about anything. That you weren’t making time for your friends, that you didn’t treated them nicely enough and he can go on like that. 

When you walk into Lando his bedroom to grab some clothes for after your shower, you don’t know what you’re seeing. There are lit candles around his bed, rose petals on the floor and on the sheet and a slow song is playing. The atmosphere seems cozy. You wonder what this is about. Before you can say something, Lando is already showing up behind you. 

After watching you walk away, Lando decided to walk to his bedroom and do the last finishing touches. Hoping he could still show you it, without expecting anything back from it. That you’re not in the mood right now is pretty clear and he understands it. When he walks to his bedroom, he almost bumps into you. You’re standing in silence and watching the room. 

“Fuck,” Lando mutters when he sees you, “This wasn’t how I planned it.”

“What’s this Lando?” You ask, “Did I interrupt something when I called?” 

Lando takes a few seconds to think about your words. Are you suggesting that he was here with another girl? That this was for another girl? Fuck. He doesn’t know if he should become mad or sad with you. 

You don’t dare to watch at Lando. You can only wonder about what this meant. Was there another girl here before you came? Did Lando do this for someone else? You can only think about the words from your friends about being prude and what will happen. Were they right? Lando and you aren’t dating, but there was a understanding between you two about not doing anything with others. Tears are rolling down on your cheeks again. You let out a loud sob. 

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando mutters, “Of course not.” He hears your sobs and decides to leave the remark for what it was. “I wanted to surprise you,” Lando explains, “I thought that I could surprise you with dinner tonight when I picked you up from your friends at the time we discussed and then when we would get back, I could surprise you with this. And if you were ready, I uh I thought tonight could be the night.”

“You wanted to surprise me?” You ask Lando confused. “Why?” 

“I wanted to make your first time special,” Lando confesses. 

“Is that why we’re in Monaco?” You continue to ask. A blush is spreading on your cheeks and tears are still rolling down. This time not because of your so called friends and their comments, but because of Lando. Your best friend. God, you don’t even know how the universe ever thought you deserved someone as Lando but you’re thankful for it everyday. 

“Yeah,” Lando admits, “I didn’t want your first time to be in a hotel.”

“But you have the most luxurious hotel rooms,” you laugh.

Lando shrugs. “Go shower baby girl, we’ll talk after.”

You grab the clothes that you came for and turn back to get to the bathroom. Lando is still staring at you. You show him a small smile. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you tell Lando. Before walking off you press a small kiss against Lando his cheek. Lando doesn’t take that as enough, he takes you into his arms and presses his lips against yours. 

All flustered you walk to the shower.

+++

“Did you lie to me?” You ask Lando without any sort of context. Lando shows you a confused look, waiting for you to continue your question. “You told me that some guys would even like it that I’m a virgin, did you mean that?” You continue to ask. 

“Yes!” Lando is quick to exclaim, “I meant that.”

“Would you like it?” You question further. When Lando doesn’t answer quick enough, you continue to talk. “Suppose I’m your girlfriend and you find out that I’m a virgin, would you like that or think it’s weird?” 

“Baby,” Lando sighs, is he really going to confess this to you? “If you were my girlfriend and I would find out that you’re a virgin, I would be fucking happy.”

“You would be happy?” You ask Lando.

“Which guy wouldn’t be happy if his girl wasn’t touched by any other guy?” Lando asks you, he knows he sounds possessive right now - but he really can’t help himself. “It’s okay if she’s not a virgin, but I always liked the thought of having a virgin girlfriend more. There’s something about exploring everything together. Being the only guy who she’s going to do those things with.”

“Promise?” You ask. “Promise,” Lando answers directly, “but now you’re going to tell me what your friends told you because I think that this has something to do with it.”

It doesn’t take you long to get everything out in the open. All the remarks your friends made about you’re still being a virgin. Lando knows how to react perfectly, he lets out a couple annoyed huffs and mutters some remarks about how pathetic they are. When you tell him what they said about prudes, he feels himself fill with rage. “That’s bullshit,” he states, “not that you’re a prude and even if you were a prude, I’d never cheat on you.”

For one moment he forgets that he isn’t your boyfriend and that your friends have no idea about what’s happening between the two of you. He feels personally attacked, not because your friends thought he was vanilla at sex, but because they are filling your mind with their awful opinions. If you were his girlfriend, he wouldn’t even know what cheating meant. Who would cheat when they have you?

“Maybe we can watch something in bed?” You eventually ask Lando. You’re done with talking about it and want to relax for a bit, tomorrow you’ll have to leave early for the flight. Lando shows you a nod and takes you with him to his bedroom. 

The both of you forgot for a moment how the bedroom is looking. You still can’t believe that Lando did this for you. Lando lets out an awkward chuckle, he also forgot about this. This day went a whole other direction then he thought it would, but he’s fine with it. Al though, having sex with you still would be the best outcome of today. 

“I’m sorry for fucking up today,” you tell Lando softly, “It’s so sweet that you planned this and I really fucked it up.”

“You didn’t,” Lando quickly replies, “If anything, you can’t do anything about what happened.”

“I could stop being friends with those girls,” you sigh.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

You let out a soft laugh. It’s no secret that Lando doesn’t like them and now you can state that he’s more then right about it. The both of you are laying in Lando his bed, casually clothed and ready to watch some dumb YouTube videos. But you change your mind about that, you move yourself closer to Lando so you can feel his body against yours. Why would you let your morning stop how the rest of the day is going? 

Lando is silently watching you. He knows nothing is going to happen for the rest of the night, but he can’t stop thinking about the way today was supposed to go. He shouldn’t have brought you to your friends, maybe then it would have gone better. Lando lets out a soft sigh. Since he came up with this idea he has been horny. He can’t stop thinking about how it would be to have sex with you. How tight would you feel around his cock? Fuck, he needs to stop thinking about this.

“Lan?” You ask suddenly. 

“Yes babygirl?” 

“I’m still ready,” you confess. 

“What do you mean?” Lando asks confused. Do you mean what he thinks? Are you talking about having sex? Now? 

“Maybe we can still continue with your plan?” You suggest, “We might have missed the dinner part, but it would be a shame if you put on all those candles for nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Lando asks surprised. “Yes,” you answer him, “I want you to take my virginity.”

In no time Lando is hovering above your body. He looks you in your eyes while asking the same question again, this time you still answer him with yes. “I don’t want you to regret this,” Lando continues, “Are you really sure?” 

“Lan, I’m sure and I swear to God that if you ask me that again I’ll call Pierre Gasly to come here and do something about it.”

Lando firmly grabs one of your tits underneath your clothes, squeezing it until you let out a soft yelp. “Don’t say that ever again,” he states. He releases your breast. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down onto yourself, getting close enough to properly kiss him. Lando smiles through the kiss. Is this actually happening? He feels himself getting more excited then ever before. Crazy isn’t it? He had sex with the hottest models, the most famous influencers, but he has never been so excited to fuck with someone as he is right now. 

“Lan?” 

“Yes?”

“You’re going to be careful right?” You ask a bit unsure.

“Of course baby girl,” Lando replies honestly, “We can stop anytime you like, just say the word.”

“You’re the best,” you say with a relieved sigh.

It’s a sign for Lando to continue. He pulls your shirt - or better said his own shirt which you’re wearing, up and removes it from your body. He presses multiple kisses on your neck, shoulders and keeps moving lower until your nipple is in his mouth. He feels it stiffen in his mouth. In the mean time he lets his hands wander around your body. He toys with the waistband of your sweatpants. This time you’re the one who pulls them down, causing you to lay in only your string for now. 

“Eager babygirl?” He asks you. 

“Maybe,” you confess.

Lando slides his fingers over your string. Making sure to tease you a bit. He moves himself lower on your body, slowly he presses some kisses on your stomach before lowering himself even more and kissing your more private parts. It doesn’t take long before you let out the first couple of moans. When Lando hears the moan falling from your lips, he can’t stop smiling. 

“Don’t tease,” you mutter when Lando is still toying with your underwear. 

“Want you as wet as possible,” Lando replies. You grab his hand, move away your string and let his hand feel the pool of wetness between your legs. “I don’t think you have to do much for that,” you tell Lando. You move your own hand towards Lando his private parts, slowly tracing the outlines of his boner through his sweatpants. He grunts lowly and finally pulls of your string. Lando lowers himself again, causing you to lose the feeling of his boner on your hands.

He takes a minute to look at your vagina before pressing his lips on it. Multiple soft kisses are pressed around your pussy before Lando gives his attention to your clit. Slowly he laps onto it. His goal is to make you as horny as possible, so you might even cum when he fucks you. It doesn’t take him long before you’re close to your orgasm. It’s his cue to stop. You let out a soft whine when Lando removes his mouth from your pussy and looks at you. 

“Still sure?” He asks you while pulling down his sweatpants and underwear. His boner springs free, you notice how it softly slaps against Lando his stomach. You wonder if you have ever seen him this hard. Lando on the other hand knows for sure he has never been this hard. The things you’re doing to him, without actually doing something, are insane. 

“Yes,” you state. You look at Lando trying to grab something out of his nightstand. When you see him with a condom wrapper, you slowly shake your head at him. “Are you clean?” You ask Lando. He is fast to tell you a yes, “I’ve never done anything without a condom,” he adds. “Then this will be a first for the both of us,” you reply. Lando asks you a couple more times if you’re sure about it, which you keep answering with yes and green. 

Then he throws away the condom and moves closely to you. Gently he spreads your legs. “You can tell me to stop anytime,” he softly says. “Please just fuck me already,” you whine. It causes Lando to let out a deep chuckle. 

He positions himself in front of your entrance. In a weird way he’s nervous about this as well. He wants to ask you if you’re ready (again), but you’re already nodding at him. It’s the sign for Lando to start with slowly pushing himself inside of you. When he you clenching around his dick, he almost loses it. As soft as he can manage he pushes his dick inside of you. You don’t say anything. Lando closely watches your face, but doesn’t spot many signs of discomfort. When he’s fully inside of you, you let out a soft moan. Lando does the same, but only a lot harder.

“Fuck babygirl,” he mutters, “You feel so fucking good.”

You show Lando a small smile. 

“Can I move?” He asks you.

“Of course Lan.”

Lando slowly starts to move inside of you. You feel him pulling back a bit before going all the way in again. He does so a couple times. His movements are slow but steady. It doesn’t hurt, but that can also be because of Lando who’s distracting you. His lips has found their way back to your tits. He sucks on them, leaving all kind of marks. When he moves his lips higher and starts to make a mark on your neck as well, you wonder how you’ll ever hide that during the race week in another hot country. 

“You can go a bit faster,” you eventually tell Lando. He is quick to act out your instructions. When he increases his pace, things are starting to feel better and better. 

“Fuck, it’s insane how good you feel around my dick,” Lando mutters. He isn’t surprised that he already feels his orgasm coming close to him. This has been on top of his mind for the last weeks and now he finally gets to feel you like this. Your pussy clenches on his dick. It causes him to let out a hard moan. “Such a good girl,” he tells you, “taking me so well.” He increases his pace a bit more, asking you for your color after doing so. When he hears you almost moan out the word green, he increases even more. 

You feel your stomach tighten. Everyone always said that the first time wouldn’t be a nice experience. You’ve always been afraid for it, maybe that’s why you waited this long. But Lando, fuck, Lando takes away all the pain. Maybe it’s pure because he is the one that it doesn’t hurt. Nobody knows your body as well as Lando does, he can surprise you with what he does. When he increases his pace, you let out a soft moan. You’re close. For the first time you don’t ask Lando for permission, you don’t tell him that you’re close. It just happens. Your orgasm crashes over you, leaving you in a state of pure bliss. 

Lando is quick to follow. “Can I cum inside you?” He asks. You tell him a yes, you’re on the pill so it’s fine. That’s all it takes for him, you feel him empty himself in your vagina. When Lando slowly pulls back, you let out a soft whine. 

“Was it okay?” Lando asks you. You turn yourself a bit more towards him, laying your head on top of his chest. “Yes,” you confess, “more then okay.”

You start to doubt about what will happen now. Will this be the end of your lessons with Lando? You certainly don’t hope so, but what if he thinks it is? You start to get a bit nervous. How will things ever go back to normal? Is that still possible? You’re head over heals for your best friend, but you have no idea how he feels. Maybe this was just sex for him and the chance of it being done now is kinda big. You want to ask Lando how things will continue for now, but you can’t find the right words. 

“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “I can’t wait to feel you around me again.”

That makes your worries go away for a bit.

part ten

a/n; it finally happened!!

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[lassieposting]

Been thinkin about Astarion + vampire biology so have some headcanons and the bits of game lore they're based on

Dialogue establishes that Cazador has been successfully passing himself off as a regular noble for centuries, and Astarion confirms that while he's considered a bit reclusive, he does mingle with the upper class of Baldur's Gate and has a property specifically for hosting fancy events.

Vampires are camouflage predators, whose primary hunting strategy is to blend in with their prey until the perfect time to strike. Their ecological niche is not a particularly safe or stable one - they live hidden in plain sight, usually in sizeable cities, for easy access to prey, but they know that if they are discovered they will be rooted out and killed or driven away. They are rarely able to get away with attacking in public, where city guards might rush to the aid of a screaming victim - they have to isolate their target before killing it. The ability to blend in, to be overlooked by their target, until it is too late is essential.

Cazador is, as far as we know, the only true vampire in Baldur's Gate

This is because true vampires are aggressively territorial. Like most apex predators, they eat a lot, and need substantial territories to support them - even moreso if they have a partner or spawns. Ascendant!Astarion would need to hold onto the entire city, as Cazador did, to be able to feed himself and Tav without raising suspicion.

True vampires are relatively rare, but there are more of them than there are cities, so it's not uncommon for one to set up in an occupied city and try to oust the sitting resident. The challenger usually believes himself to be as strong or stronger than the current tenant: these territorial disputes usually end in at least one death, so they're not to be entered into lightly.

Astarion is very obviously a vampire: his fangs are visible, as are his bite scars; he's so pale multiple people comment on it; his eyes are red, etc.

Astarion is not a healthy vampire.

This is a man who has been kept on the knife's edge of starvation and tortured regularly for 200 years, and to another vampire, that would be clear from the state of him: Astarion is a camouflage predator who is so malnourished he is no longer able to blend in.

Tav will get an up-close look at his transformation over the course of the game and during the years afterwards: the more healthy and well-fed Astarion becomes, as his body catches up on its immense energy deficit and begins to recover, the better he will be able to mimic a living elf. His skin will be able to bleed, or blush, or bruise, none of which he's capable of while actively starving. Hia fangs will retract until he needs them, not invisible but less obvious - having them out all the time is a response to severe deprivation; he's so hungry his body can't risk losing prey to the split second it takes Cazador to snatch a rat back, so he's permanently in bite mode, hyperaware, ready to strike. Some body functions will come online that he didn't even know he had, the ones that are supposed to help him blend in - his eyes will start producing pigment to look darker, less scarlet and more burgundy, to be more easily mistaken for brown; his lungs will make him breathe automatically even though he doesn't need it, he'll start being able to eat normal food without getting sick again, though he still won't get any nourishment from it; he'll heal faster. He'll even be able to get drunk, though he'll burn through it very quickly. As it stands, all those extra systems have been shut down by his starving body - they're useful, but nonessential, and he needs every single bit of energy funnelled into just keeping him alive and functional.

There is probably an intentional bit of psychological warfare against the spawns on Cazador's part here - him starving them strips them of their natural defences, and every time he makes them leave the mansion to hunt, they have to do so knowing that they're poorly hidden and vulnerable. But it's established that true vampires treating their spawn poorly or outright abusing them is A Thing, so it's not the only reason - he sees them as property rather than people, he keeps them weak so they won't plot against him, he's acting out his own trauma from Vellioth on them, he just wants to - but it does feed into it.

Astarion can, at one point, identify old blood as belonging to the player character. He also gets excited at another point if an enemy character runs away, stating, "Now it's a hunt."

He says that "even stale, [he'd] recognise that bouquet anywhere." This confirms a few things for us:

He has a vastly superior sense of smell capable of identifying individuals by scent and - since he can tell who the blood belongs to even after some time has passed - following scent trails.

This confirms that although city-dwelling vampires may primarily hunt via luring a victim to a secondary location before killing it, they still have the "stalk down and chase" predator instinct. Since Astarion can't lure wildlife anywhere, this is almost certainly how he's been hunting to supplement his diet when he's not using the player as his personal caprisun.

The fact that he can scent out prey before killing it means he has this ability all the time - he can smell blood while it's still safely inside the owner's body.

So scent is probably relevant to how vampires process the world. The more time each companion spends with him, the more he gets used to their scent, starts associating it more with safety and camaraderie than with a potential meal, and so he becomes more relaxed around them. As he learns to link the player's scent with love and comfort and trust, the more likely he is to retreat to their tent over his own when he's injured or afraid or having a trauma moment. When he's fond of someone, something of theirs will go conveniently missing - he's moving their scent into his little safe space, it's comforting for him. He can tell when his lover is hurt or aroused or frightened - though not which of the three applies - from a distance, because his sense of smell can pick up the spike of adrenaline rushing into their bloodstream.

But that also means that he can never feel like he's got any distance from Cazador while he's living in the mansion - even if the man isn't in the same room, the entire place reeks of him, and it makes Astarion feel like Cazador is breathing down his neck all the same. Ascendant Astarion would have a really, really hard time sticking it out in that mansion with stale Eau de Cazador all over the place. It means that he's put instantly on edge by the faint scent of one of his siblings as he walks through the lower city - when seven vicious, territorial apex predators are confined to a single small dormitory, several hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year, fights are going to be nasty and frequent, and although Cazador wouldn't allow them to kill each other, considering how many of his siblings refer to him as weak or a runt, Astarion probably didn't win them very often. So. Having a highkey advanced sense of smell is a mixed bag.

[lvlyghost]

Cold Nights

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.

Word Count: 794

Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭

A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖

Masterlist✨

Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.

Why isn't she here?

His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.

Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.

"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."

"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.

"Got things to do."

He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.

It's a cold day. Just like the day before.

Days used to mean nothing to him.

Time.

Until she came along. Three years ago.

That woman... he sighs.

Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?

Everything was fine.

Or so he thought.

-

"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.

"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.

Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.

"What?"

"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."

There's a silence that falls between them.

"Those were the words of a drunk man."

"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"

He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.

"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."

"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"

Simon chuckles. He really does.

"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."

And he's doomed.

-

He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.

He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.

He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.

He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.

Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.

"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.

"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.

"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.

"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.

"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.

"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."

"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.

"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."

"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."

She looks at him wide-eyed.

"You... you don't," she stutters.

"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."

"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."

[chuuyrr]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 .ᐟ

feat: dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ CW(s): gn! reader, mentions of alcohol (reader is drunk)

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: in which you drink too much and don't even realize that your boyfriend is your boyfriend or you might as well be drunk in love

in the dimly lit bar, the air was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself swirling the remnants of a colorful cocktail, the room around you blurring as the night progressed.

DAZAI sits beside you, and couldn't help but notice your flushed-pink demeanor, fueled by the drinks you had consumed, and giggles to himself.

in your tipsy state, you tilt your head, looking at dazai with a playful suspicion. the room spun slightly, and you sway on your seat, trying to focus on his face.

"you know," you slur, "you're a suspicious stranger. i bet you've got some secret agenda." you point an accusing finger at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

dazai, amused by your playful accusations, couldn't help but giggle even more, "oh, do i now? well, i'm just a harmless 'stranger' who happened to find the most adorable drunk person in the entire bar."

you raise an eyebrow skeptically, still not recognizing him, "adorable, huh? well, mr. stranger-fanger, you're gonna have to prove it." you cross your arms, a challenging smirk on your flushed face.

dazai, seizing the opportunity, wraps his arms around you with a mockingly serious expression, "see? no danger here, just a guy who appreciates adorable drunks."

you broke into a fit of giggles, melting into his embrace, "well, you're not that bad for a stranger, i guess."

completely unaware that the 'stranger' was, in fact, your boyfriend, you continued to enjoy the whimsical dance of laughter and teasing, creating a memory that would undoubtedly be cherished in the days to come.

"i'm gonna be serious though, i am your boyfriend," dazai says to you.

you blink softly at him, your tipsy-drunk state had somehow lead you to look at him as such. dazai blinks back before a grin starts to tug on his lips.

"do i have to remind my dearest? well, then. buckle up because you're in for a treat!" he says before he instantly starts peppering your face in kisses as he holds you tightly.

you immediately start to squeal and giggle as you are reminded of the constant kisses that your boyfriend would give you admist the alcohol in your system.

"osamuuu!" you say in a soft whine before he pecks your lips.

dazai grins even more widely at your cute little whine as he cups your face now, "that's more like it. goodness, such an adorable drunk you are, hmm?"

CHUUYA watches with a mix of concern and amusement as your cheerful demeanor transformed into a tipsy state.

as the night wore on, chuuya decides it was time to take you home. he gently placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, trying to capture your attention, "hey, it's getting late. how about we head home?" he suggests, his voice warm and caring.

however, in your inebriated state, you misinterpreted the situation. you gasp sharply before you squirm in your seat and whine softly, "nooo, i'm having so much fun here! plus, you can't take me home! i have a boyfriend!"

chuuya was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but chuckle at your resistance afterwards upon seeing this, "come on, baby, i'm not a stranger. i'm your boyfriend, and I just want to make sure you get home safely."

now it's you blinking softly, looking at him with a mix of confusion and innocence, "boyfriend? really?" you giggle, completely unaware of the true nature of your relationship.

"you're being so silly right now, i almost can't with you," chuuya sighs, still laughing softly, "geez, i didn't know my baby can be this forgetful with this much alcohol."

undeterred, chuuya continued to coax you gently, his amusement growing as you stare at him in awe as you begin to pat his cheeks in your warm hands, "this pretty face is all mine?"

chuuya chuckles again, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he takes your hands in his before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on your lips and whispering, "i'm all yours, baby."

the night unfolded in a blend of laughter, warmth, and the endearing challenge of convincing you that the 'stranger' was, in fact, the person who cared for you the most, and you couldn't help but giggle even more into the kiss.

FYODOR observes your increasing intoxication with a measured gaze, a sense of concern clouding his usually composed demeanor.

as the night unfolds, you continued to enjoy the array of drinks that nikolai had generously provided you two. fyodor, recognizing the potential consequences, decided it was time to intervene. he places a hand gently on your arm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

"dear, perhaps it's time to slow down," fyodor suggests, his voice calm and measured as he tries to get you to stop.

you looked at him with a tipsy grin, oblivious to the fact that fyodor was your boyfriend, "but nikolai is just being generous. no harm in a few more, riiight?"

fyodor's piercing gaze held a mixture of concern and determination, "i'd rather not see you regretting this tomorrow. let's enjoy the night responsibly," he insists, attempting to guide you away from the tempting allure of more drinks.

however, in your intoxicated state, you resisted his efforts, misinterpreting his intentions, "oh, come on! live a little, stranger!" you playfully tease, unaware that fyodor was the person you were romantically involved with.

fyodor couldn't help but hide a small smile at your playful antics, though he inwardly feels a twinge of sadness at being referred to as a stranger, maintained his composure.

he observes you with a subtle sadness in his eyes, a fleeting emotion that betrayed the depth of his feelings. still, he wasn't one to give up easily.

with a gentle touch, he cupped your face, making you meet his gaze, "remember, i'm the one who cares deeply for you," he murmurs with a faint smile, his eyes staring in yours.

"i may be a stranger in this particular scenario, but i am not to you," fyodor replies softly, realizing that your drunken state was proving to be a barrier. yet, he didn't relent.

the realization began to dawn on you, your intoxicated mind slowly connecting the dots, "wait a minute... you care about me? really?"

fyodor nods, his eyes holding a mixture of hope and longing, "more than you can imagine."

you blink softly, still processing the situation through the haze of alcohol. before you could react, fyodor leaned in, pressing a soft and lingering kiss against your lips. the touch was tender yet filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, an attempt to bridge the gap that had momentarily separated you.

as the kiss unfolded, a subtle warmth spread through you, and the fog of intoxication seemed to lift momentarily. the taste of familiarity mingled with the hint of sadness, creating a poignant moment that transcended the blurred boundaries of the night. fyodor then pulls away, his gaze searching yours for any signs of recognition.

there was a pause, a moment of suspended realization. slowly, your eyes widened, and a spark of recognition flickered within them. "wait," you whisper, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and clarity as you smile. "you're not a stranger, only my fedya kisses me like that!"

a soft smile tugged at the corners of fyodor's lips as the weight of being called a stranger lifted. the kiss had served as a catalyst, a bridge that connected the fragments of memory scattered in the alcohol-induced haze.

"my, my, how could you forget your fedya, dear?" fyodor sighs, shaking his head before he kisses your lips again and whispers, "traitor.."

ꨄ˙ A.N.: i feel like i might have written fyodor in an ooc-ish way, and if i did, i apologize !! haven't written for him in so long and i don't write for him as often as dazai and chuuya. this is also kinda silly i think now that i've finished writing this lol !! thank you so much for reading until the end (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[seeingivy]

pretty girl

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: kind of suggestive? reader is super insecure + sukuna might be ooc but ??? yk. it is what it is. come get yall juice.

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

--

when sukuna’s phone rings - for the third time, signaling that he actually has to pick up now - he definitively decides that he is going to move far, far away. maybe if he lived in shibuya, or even as far as kyoto, his stupid little brother wouldn’t call him every time he got too drunk to drive him and his idiotic friends home. 

and when sukuna walks straight into the bar - blaring music, haphazard puddles of alcohol all over the floor, and the most pungent, putrid sweat smell hanging in the air - he’s almost positive that he’s going to start looking for a new apartment tomorrow. 

it takes him approximately thirty-five seconds to find yuuji. though he supposed he should have noticed faster that the pink haired idiot standing on top of the bar, with a black sea urchin shaking at his legs was exactly what he was looking for. 

sukuna makes his way over, shoving megumi hard in the shoulder as he looks over, eyes glazed and cheeks pink. after almost seven times of doing this, sukuna knows exactly how this is going to go. that despite the tattoos, the entirely different facial structure, and physique, megumi is going to confuse sukuna for yuuji. 

“yuu’? how’d you get over there so fast?” megumi murmurs, reaching to cup the side of his face. 

right again. sukuna smacks his hand out of his peripheral as he looks up at yuuji, who hasn’t even noticed that he’s arrived yet. 

“move over.” he responds, irritated. 

the second megumi lets go, sukuna all but shuffles yuuji off of his balance, making it a point to somewhat break his fall off of the countertop. only somewhat, because naturally he wouldn’t injure his little brother. but that doesn’t mean he’s not deserving of sometime of retribution for all the times he’s had to do this.

yuuji’s groaning in his arms as he pulls him up, as he halfheartedly makes grabby hands for fushiguro who was three feet away. 

“‘gumi, cm’here.” 

“we’re leaving. you can sit next to your gumi in the car.” sukuna states sternly, curling his nose at the godawful nickname, as he drags the two of them straight out into the cold air. 

he’s all but opening the doors for the two of them, getting more irritated as the two of them excitedly look up at the sky, pointing at all the little stars together before he all but shoves them again. 

“look yuuji. it’s us.” 

“where?” 

“the two stars next to each other.” 

sukuna watches yuuji’s eyes go wide, cheeks bright pink, as he wraps his arms around megumi. and fights the urge to gag. 

it’s only then - when he’s wrestled seatbelts onto the two of them and stopped megumi from being the affectionate drunk that he is - that they make it a point to share an important piece of information. 

“kugisaki and y/n are still in there! we can’t leave.” yuuji whines, leaning his head against megumi’s as his eyes quickly start drooping, almost fluttering shut before he can ask where the two of you could possibly be. 

sukuna shuffles back through the group of bodies, this time looking for the other pair of the set. it takes more effort - because he’s sure that kugisaki is going to be sucking face with someone in the back corner and he’s going to have to put an end to it. and you. you were always particularly hard to find. 

he spots the red hair three feet away and takes a deep breath. she’s almost entirely sitting on the girls lap - green hair, shitty glasses - as he makes it a point to tap on her shoulder. naturally, she doesn’t stop and he gets more disgusted as it goes on. he never thought she’d be so…handsy. or that he’d have to see it. 

he does the next best thing. reaches to her side and tickles her, just enough to stop her and start the godawful, obscene screaming that worsens tenfold with every consecutive pint of alcohol she drinks. and of course, she’s just as predictable as the last. 

“yuuji?! where the fuck do you get off doing that?” 

he reaches for her wrist, shooting a polite smile. 

“maki. always a pleasure. kugisaki, we’re leaving.” 

“i’m not leaving.” 

maki gives him a halfhearted shrug as he all but throws her over her shoulder, tuning out the insults that are streaming out of her mouth as he all but carries her through the group of bodies. if you weren’t regulars here, sukuna was positive that he’d get arrested for that profanities coming out of her mouth - that, and the fact that it looked like he was abducting her. but no one turns a blind eye, almost irritated that she’s at it again. 

that makes two of them. 

when nobara’s tucked into the back, he makes it a point to throw a water bottle at each of them - specifically square in the face for yuuji and megumi who are cuddling in his backseat - as he glares at all of them. 

“okay, kugisaki. where’s y/n?” sukuna asks. 

she’s leaning her head back against the headrest, eyes fluttering shut, as she murmurs something unintelligible. 

“she….ugly.” kugisaki murmurs. 

“she’s ugly?” sukuna deadpans. 

well, she’s certainly not ugly. 

“ugly…bathroom.” she murmurs again, taking it as his best option. 

sukuna marches back into the bar, for the third time, and beelines straight into the bathroom in the back. and there you are, crumpled up on the floor with your knees hiked to your chest, with big tears in your eyes and two girls sitting right across from you. 

sukuna finds the sight rather…unusual. he knew that girls were quite different than guys, having heard you go on your spiels about womanhood and female friendship too damn often to know that it was a whole thing that was beyond him. but really, he finds it sincerely odd that the two girls sitting across from you are comforting you in your puddle of tears. 

it’s not that sukuna’s stereotyping. or being judgemental. or he is a little, but he doesn’t frankly care. because labels, or groups or whatever existed for a reason. people who were similar flocked to one another. it’s how people were comfortable. how they functioned. 

which is why sukuna’s unsure why these two girls - who are actually dressed up to be at the club - are sitting on the tiles with you, when you’re wearing one of those pink ribbons in your hair, that of course, matches the one on your bag. 

but granted, this is you he’s talking about. he’s spent enough time trying to figure you out, before he naturally gave up. he always found that you transcended normal groups that he assigned. 

you look up at him through your tearfilled eyes, a half smile on your face. 

“sukuna, you-you’re here.” 

sukuna ignores the fact that he’s pleased, very pleased, that you didn’t just confuse him with yuuji, as he holds his hand out to you and grabs your purse with the other one. and when you place your hand in his, you can feel the heat rushing up your body, more so when he leans down, lips few feet apart as he murmurs to you. 

“we’re leaving. now.” sukuna states, glaring at you. 

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, acutely aware of every detail on his face. that his hair is slightly messy - because he must have woken up to come get you - and that his eyes are almost tired. you fight the urge to smile...at how sweet It all is.

“okay. thanks for coming to get us.” you respond, giving him a smile. 

the two girls sprawled on the floor stand up, yanking their dresses down the slightest amounts as they flash you warm, kind-hearted smiles.

sukuna, really, truly does not understand it. at the way that you’re so open with them, despite the fact that they must be strangers. 

“you, give him hell. and you, i’m really happy for you. i’m sure your wedding will be beautiful.” you state, pointing at the two girls who had been accompanying you on the bathroom floor for the past hour. 

“and you. stop letting people call you ugly and taking it to heart. the bows are cute. your fashion is amazing. and men don’t deserve shit.” the first girl slurs.

you give her a smile, as sukuna all but tugs you out of the bathroom by the wrist, arm secured around your shoulder as he leads you through the crowd. sukuna drops his arm around you as the crowd gets thicker, hands straight on your waist as he steadies you in front of him. and when he leans down to whisper in your ear, it sends a shiver down your entire spine. 

“do i even want to ask?” he sneers. 

“it’s her bachelorette party! and that’s her best friend, though she seems kind of…off her rocker. but in a good way. power to her for being bold.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes as he pushes you out into the cold air last, reaching for the front seat door and opening it for you. except when he looks back, you’re staring up into the sky just as yuuji and megumi were, the softest of smiles on your face.

sukuna makes a mental note of the dark, black tear streaks on your cheeks and your sniflfy nose as he clears his throat to get your attention. 

“oh. sorry, i’m here. i’m here.” you respond, quickly shuffling into the car as you wipe your face. 

sukuna shuts the door behind you, pausing to look up at the sky too. and silently wonders what exactly it was that you thought when you looked up at it. 

--

sukuna makes it a point to take you out of the car last. because naturally, he’d save the easiest job for the end. by the time he had turned onto his street, you were snug asleep against the window of his car, creating a small indent into your forehead from the plastic of the door as he parked on the street. and he’d give you the few seconds of peace as he wrangles the rest of them out. 

megumi and yuuji were easy to wrangle. because if sukuna too one out, the other one would quickly follow - and mope a great deal. megumi was on the side closer to the door, meaning he had to brace himself for the confusion once again, as he shrugged him awake. 

“‘yuu. are you going to carry me to bed?” he murmurs. 

“absolutely fucking not.” sukuna responds, yanking him out as yuuji follows up the stairs. he sets the two of them on the couch, a surefire way to ensure that they don’t do something heinous to his sheets during the night - or the morning after - as he braces himself for kugisaki next. 

when he slings her arm around his shoulder, the obscenities start. 

“maybe if you had a job or something, maybe we wouldn’t bother you so much. It-” 

“i have a job, kugisaki. a job that just payed for your drinks, mind you.” 

it seems that in his rusk of getting ready, yuuji had accidentally swiped his wallet on the way out. and of course, it was his turn to pay for the drinks. 

“you need to get a hobby. have you thought of sewing?” she asks. 

“that would be useful. then i’d have hundreds of needles to stick in your eyes.” 

“when was the last time you felt the touch of a woman, sukuna?” 

“when was the last time you went on a date? are the middle school makeout sessions hitting the mark for you, kugisaki?” 

“shut the fuck up.” she sneers, reaching to smack him as he shoves her straight on to the guest bed and quickly shuts the door behind him. 

he’s satisfied when he hears no inclination of her following, which always seems to be a gamble depending on how much she’s downed that night. or how short he cut off whatever it was she was doing with maki. 

when sukuna makes it back to the car, he half debates just leaving you in there. because you look so comfortable, with his stray jacket strewn over your shoulders, and your breath that’s fogging up the glass of the mirror. but the fact that your neck is at an awkward angle and the cold air solidify his decision. 

he open the door and you halfhazardly jolt awake, blinking your eyes as sukuna comes into your line of vision. you shoot him a smile as he holds his hand out to you, locking them together as he drags you up to the apartment, straight into his bedroom. 

“can i use the bathroom?” you ask. 

“you know where it is.” he responds, noting and particularly hating the biting tone in his voice. 

“thank you!” you respond, shuffling into the room and shutting the door. 

albeit weirdly, sukuna presses his ear to the door to confirm his suspicions. and the soft clinking of bottles, of the water running on and off, tells him enough. 

that you’re doing your longwinded skin care routine in his bathroom. that you shoved all of your serums and moisturizers in your purse because you couldn’t skip out on it for even one day. 

he’d make it a point. to slam the door open and make fun of you for it. but he bites down any retort he has when he hears soft sniffling and pushes the door open for an entirely different reason. 

“what the hell is your problem?” he asks. 

“huh?” 

“you and your friends get obscenely drunk. then, you call me in the middle of the night and wake me up. and right when i’m about to go to bed, you’re crying in my bathroom. so what the hell is it? just tell me.” 

you sniffle. 

“do you really want to know?” you whisper. 

“you’re wasting more of time with your shitty attitude. i’m not going to stand here and coax it out of you, so just tell me straight up or stop crying.” 

you sigh. 

“if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” 

sukuna wants to smack you. of course you feel the need to talk in tongues. 

“in english this time?” he asks. 

“you can try to look nice as much as you want. but even all that…makeup…fancy skincare. it can’t change the fact that i just look like this. that if you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig.” you state. 

“you think you’re a pig?” sukuna asks. 

you sigh. 

“maybe.” you murmur. 

sukuna tosses you the extra set of clothes he dragged out, tossing them straight at you as you send him a grateful smile. 

“thanks, sukuna.” you murmur. 

“for what?” 

he could barely even muster a response, a coherent one that you deserved, in response to what you shared with him. 

“dunno. i tell other people and they just kind of go…but you’re so pretty!! and…it falls flat. it’s nice to not be coddled. just said things as they are.” 

sukuna can feel a burning feeling in his chest that increases tenfold when you press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. and he stands there dumbfounded, watching you smile and make a move to walk away. he instinctively reaches for your bicep and pulls back, a sweet smell emanating from whatever you’ve just smeared on your face, as he looks down at your lips. 

there’s some type of glitter on them. whatever you’ve just put on makes them look bigger, fuller. he wonders if some trace of it is left on his cheek. 

“did you need something?” you ask. 

“sleep in my bed.” 

“huh?” 

“i’ll take the couch. get in the bed.” he utters. 

the following morning, sukuna wakes up to three plates of breakfast with an annoying sticky note pressed on top. 

thanks for coming to get us sukuna!!! :DD 

it’s the first time the thought crosses his mind. that his preconceived notion might be incorrect. 

that it’s not that you’re too good for him. it’s that everyone else isn’t good enough for you. 

--

the next time you see sukuna is when you’re teetering past tipsy to fully drunk in your childhood bedroom, on christmas eve. well, he’s not exactly inside the room, more knocking on the door frame.

you gesture for him to come in, setting the wine bottle down, as he takes the seat next to you. 

“where’s yuuji?” you ask.

“still at megumi’s.” 

sukuna loosens the tie around his neck and unbuttons the top three buttons of his collared shirt, as he slides closer to you. you've never been one to shy from his touch, settling into his embrace, as he racks his mind, desperately, on how to broach the topic, that’s been on his mind for weeks. 

sukuna slides his arm around your shoulder to your nightstand, to a little bundle of dried flowers. he opts to leave his hand pulled around you, as he pulls it closer to the two of your faces, resting his temple against yours.

“what’s this?” 

“it’s my corsage from prom. like sixty years ago.” 

“who did you go with?” sukuna asks. 

“no one. i never got asked. i just bought one because…you know how all the girls line up in a row and stick their hands out to show their corsage off? i didn’t want to be left out of that picture.” you state. 

“so you ordered it yourself?” 

“mhm. pink flowers, white bow. it matched my dress.” you hum. 

“always the bows huh?” 

sukuna sets the corsage down in your lap, as he leans closer into your space and digs into his pocket. you can smell his cologne, strong and musky in your space, as it mixes with your own flowery perfume and gives your head a slight rush. 

he pulls out his keys and sets them flat in the palm of your hand, as you inspect each little accessory on his ring. there’s two keys - one for his apartment and one for his house - and two keychains. one of him as a lego, which you know yuuji bought him for his birthday, and another one from alaska, that you and yuuji had bought him on your school trip in eighth grade. 

but the third is a ribbon, secured right on the ring of his keychain. you inspect it between your fingers, and he supplies the answer before you can ask. 

“you left it at my house.” he states. 

“so…so you put it on your keys?” 

“wanted to make sure it was on me. in case i saw you.” 

you make a move to pull it off the ring, but he closes his hand over yours. 

“it’s mine now.” he states. 

“then why did you show it to me?” you whispers. 

sukuna’s not sure what it is that drives him to do it, merely the fact that he has no patience and surely no self control, but he hooks his hand straight under your thigh, securing you straight on his lap. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as he leans his forehead straight against yours, his hands on your thighs burning your skin. 

“what are you doing? yu-yuuji will eventually get here you know.” you whisper. 

“do you like him?” sukuna asks. 

“what? no-no, he’s with megumi. and he’s gay.” you whisper. 

“so why are you thinking about him when you’re here with me?” 

“i-i’m not. you just-”

sukuna swallows hard, taking a deep inhale of your smell, before he slithers one of his hands around your neck and pulls you closer. he can feel you fidget in his lap, nearly knocking over half the things behind you as you twitch in his lap and he murmurs into your skin. 

“relax.” 

you take a deep breath, grounding yourself by digging your hands into the muscle of his arms.

“okay. you-”

“the guy at the bar. what did he say to you?” he whispers. 

“which guy?” 

“when i picked you up last. when you slept in my bed.” 

you feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

“nothing. he-” 

sukuna’s squeezing into the plush of your thighs, his hands firm and warm as you fight the urge to yelp. 

“tell me what he said.” 

“nothing, sukuna. i didn’t want to kiss him yet. and he leaned in. got-got offended. just said some things before he walked away.” you mumble. 

“things like?” 

“like you know. the usual stuff.” 

“that you’re ugly?” he asks. 

it's almost embarrassing, but his look is so unrelenting that you have to give in. you nod, as sukuna takes his hands off of your legs, bringing them up to cup the side of your face this time. he snakes one of his hands into your hair, yanking the bow out as he curls it in his hand. 

“do you believe him?” he asks. 

“no.” you respond. 

sukuna leans closer, his lips brushing against yours as you instinctively shut your eyes. that it burns too much to look at him. 

“are you lying to me?” 

“n-no.” you mumble back, as you try to lean in but feel sukuna pull back. 

when you open your eyes, you can’t but pout as he smiles at you, as he grins at you after pulling away. 

“don’t be a tease, sukuna.” 

he laughs into your neck, before the warmth blooms on your neck as his lips connect to your skin, as he leaves a trail of warm kisses up the side of your neck. each new spot he touches has you nearly melting in his touch, as he can feel you slouching onto him, leaning your entire body weight against his. 

he continues that way, refusing to kiss you full on the mouth, as you feel your skin bloom warmth with every new place that he touches. each of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, even your eyelids that you’ve fluttered shut this entire time. some part of it is agonizing, that he continues to give but won’t receive in return. 

you take his collar into your hands, crumpling the fabric as you yank him straight and feel him smile against your lips. 

“needy?” 

“please. i want to-” 

sukuna cuts you off before you can finish your request, the first inclination of your begging snapping the very little patience he had in the first place. your lips are soft and warm against his, as you surely spread that glittery nonsense over him, over his neck as you start peppering kisses over him. from how shy and awkward he’s seen you, he swallows down the surprise at how eager you are, at the way you’re basically pawing at him through his shirt.  

except you pull back, wide eyed, when the two of you hear pounding up the step, accompanied by two voices getting louder in your ears. 

“y/n!!! y/n, y/n merry christmas!!!” yuuji bellows, as you shove sukuna onto the floor and sit upright as he pads into the room and wraps you in a hug. 

sukuna wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he stands up, giving megumi a nod, as yuuji turns to him and shakes hands. sukuna can’t help but smile at how pink your cheeks are, swollen lips and glazed eyes, as megumi and yuuji settle into both of your sides, arms wrapped around you. 

you swallow hard as you look at sukuna, wide eyed as you noticed all the lipgloss that you left over him. and pale when megumi notices the big red mark on his neck. 

“is that a rookie mark, sukuna?” 

sukuna brings his hand up to his neck, only to be met back with the glitter on his fingers as he smiles - or more appropriately, grins at you - as you feel your cheeks go pink. 

“who gave you that sukuna? your neighbor?” yuuji asks. 

you feel your eyes go wide, as sukuna pinches his eyes at yours before responding. 

“no. i haven’t talked to her in a while.” 

you tuck away the detail, making sure to ask him about it later. it’s only now that sukuna’s reputation comes to the forefront of your mind, as you realize you might have made a grave mistake by letting sukuna indulge in whatever infatuation it is he’s having with you. 

“yuuji. did you say hello to y/n’s sister?” he asks. 

“she’s back in town?” he asks, turning to you. 

“mhm. got back in today.” you murmur, as the two of them shoot you a smile and shuffle back into your room. 

sukuna lifts you up by your wrists, as he starts fixing your appearance little by little. you can feel him zipping up the back of your dress - entirely unsure when he even had the time to do that - as he snags the little bow from his pocket and smooths it back into your hair. 

“whose your neighbor?” 

“jealous, princess?” he asks. 

you turn around, poking one of your hands into the muscle of his chest. 

“sukuna. i am not going to be one of your little lack-” 

“you are not a lackey.” he whispers. 

you pout at him, entirely disbelieving, as he wraps his hands around your face, the kiss sweeter, softer than the ones the two of you had just shared on the bed. 

“you’d kill me if you did that.” you murmur. 

“you think i relish in your pain?” he asks. 

“dunno. you-” 

he leans your head up again, tucking his head into the softness of your neck as he starts peppering kisses you again. your hands are a futile attempt to stop him, as he laughs into your skin. 

“i’m here to make you feel good. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks.” 

“oh?” 

“let me. you- you’ve always been my pretty girl. and no one can make you feel good, treat you like you should, better than me.” 

you push him off again as megumi and yuuji come back, with your sister in tow, as they gesture for you to join them downstairs. and sukuna follows behind, as you fight the urge to beam, when he secures his hand into yours behind their backs.

--

next part linked here

an: do NAWT ask for a part 2 bc I will do it. my brain is steaming. I am thinking thoughts.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

[taegularities]

entertainer (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, sexual tension, he is so attracted to her :'), mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, dark past(s), crying, fear, confrontation and fighting, cocky kook, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content (kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, etc.), more warnings on drop day once the fic is finished!! not much for the teaser itself, though <3 ➳ wc: 1.8k :') (around 20k for the full thing) ➳ a/n: scratches head. this has been a long time coming and i'm beyond curious how y'all will like it :') very new and experimental, so let's see how it goes!! as always, drop a message to lmk what you think of this lil glimpse, i'll be waiting with dangling feet hehe!! <3

➳ give the Entertainer playlist a first listen! 🖤   

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs 

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done that a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices once the two of you halt in front of another piece of work. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me like that?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“So,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only recognises a tranquil ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is tender, but wrapped in dark mystery.

How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly odd things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“But it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must be a trigger, or a thought on something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ahhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibition made me realise how that colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who've earned it.”

Earned it? How? 

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack. 

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your gaze. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Someone…

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t. Yet.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — a nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like this when you were at the meeting, or in his office. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the puzzles away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this much of an open book?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Hah. Well, I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Strokes his ego, though. And then, out of the blue again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely inhaled half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps this is enough for now, visiting the overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake to go with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh. One?” you ask, “Don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as hell. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for us two.”

You laugh — a candied, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip of his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. While he does avoid them, it’s still always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, serving two perfectly prepared cappuccinos and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge piece.

You thank her with a gentle smile, and tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your dangling silver earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… oh God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head.

All the way through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag the wet tip of your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance in snail’s pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sound around him comes alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You catch him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — and maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

Making you smile must be an achievement, though, right? If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him live, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… that’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you interesting. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue.

“You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing; getting what he wants? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel. 

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before.

No matter what it is; Jungkook only understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants you to be the colour green for him. 

wrote most of it now and while sick, so it might change hehe! but i hope it's okay so far, and it shall only get better!! i'm so so excited for this, like i've been working on it and putting thought into it since october, so i hope it's worth the wait <3

as always, send your thoughts, questions, complaints lol lemme know what you think or i might perish sniff. super curious to know!! also, here's the taglistttt 🤍 love and appreciate you all <3

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Solomon so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He's humanity's most powerful sorcerer (swd: 2-A) and one of RAD's first exchange students who has pacts with 72 different demons (swd: 2-2), two of which are Asmodeus and Barbatos (swd: 2-A).

➤ He was the one to rescue MC from Lucifer when the demon was threatening them during the dance party at the retreat, and when MC asked him how to control a demon who's in a pact with them, Solomon explained that they didn't have the magic abilities to that yet but lent them his powers, saying he was "interested to know what would happen if he did." (swd: 8-8) And his powers came in handy later on when MC and the others were escaping from Henry 1.0 and MC used his borrowed powers to summon Asmodeus and charm the giant snake. (swd: 8-13)

➤ He's in possession of the Ring of Wisdom, which grants him the power to control demons. It was given to him by Michael himself, as a way to help Solomon during a time when he was feeling "lost." (swd: 29-5)

➤ He made himself immortal by accident while researching new forms of magic and as a result of it, can no longer grow old or die. (swd: 36-3)

➤ He was the first to suspect that MC's powers were becoming a threat to the three realms when he connected MC's return to the Human World to the "natural disasters" that started happening in ancient locations that were connected to the other realms. And to test if his hypothesis was correct, he brought them to Devildom with him. (swd: 37-4)

➤ Being the one to find out about MC's "situation", he was also the one who told Diavolo and Barbatos about it (swd: 37-4). For a while, they were the only ones who knew, as the prince decided to keep it a secret until there was solid proof that MC was the cause of the disasters happening around them. Eventually, though, Solomon was able to convince Diavolo that it was a good idea to tell Simeon, making him the fourth to know. (swd: 32-16)

➤ After giving it some thought, he decided to go against Diavolo's request and tell MC about their powers anyway. He was beginning to tell them when Lucifer fainted, affected by MC's powers (swd: 36-18). The secret was out to everyone then.

➤ He stole the Night Dagger - the item that was supposed to be used on MC to sever their pacts with the brothers when their powers were proven to be a threat to everyone and everything around them - from Thirteen's cave. (swd: 37-9)

➤ When he found out that to use the Night Dagger to save the three worlds he needed to kill a high-ranking demon with it first he made a plan to kill Lucifer himself, but the idea of MC hating him because of it made him change his mind. (swd: 38-15)

➤ He took MC as his apprentice to help them learn how to control their powers (swd: 38-19) and from then on became their teacher, guiding them through the journey of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer.

➤ According to Michael, he's a decent human with a good head on his shoulders, but can be even more troublesome than demons at times. "He acts as if he understands his own powers, but he doesn't." The angel tells MC - who had been sent back in time to when the brothers were still angels in the Celestial Realm through a dream due to eating Solomon's cooking - before bringing them back home. (swd: 44-18)

➤ He founded the Sorcerers’ Society with one of his past apprentices who he later had a strong disagreement with, which led to Solomon distancing himself from the society. (swd: 45-4)

➤ His pact with Asmodeus was made in a tavern long long ago while the brother was drunk out of his mind. (swd: 53-16) Solomon saw that the demon was in no coherent state and took advantage of that to propose a pact between the two of them. (nb: 6-18 and 17-13)

➤ He met Barbatos even before he met Asmodeus when he risked death to summon the butler (swd: 53-16), desperately needing his powers to control time for reasons that are still unknown (swd: 49-A).

➤ He has Barbatos' grimoire, which the butler gave to him himself out of trust and respect for him. (swd: 53-16)

➤ After MC completed their trials to become a sorcerer and before the brothers left the Human World, he gave MC a sorcerer's ring. (swd: 59-11)

➤ When teleported away by Barbatos as punishment for summing him, he found himself in a dining room where Diavolo and Simeon were arguing over which side should be the one to “guide” humanity, demons or angels. They asked Solomon to make a choice but he told them that humans don't need their protection, claiming that he wants humanity to be free and that's part of an agreement he has with someone. Then, everything goes black and an unknown voice ( who we later find out is Nightbringer ) accuses Solomon of being “difficult” and tells him that things would be easier if he chose his side, even bringing up MC to ask if the sorcerer would change his mind if his apprentice was to “get caught up in the middle of it.” In response Solomon asks if that's a threat and tells Nightbringer that he's acting like a demon, explaining later that he knows MC wants the same thing as him. The voice calls him overconfident for this, saying that Solomon is sure to the point where he becomes arrogant, and tells him that he is the one behaving like a demon. Solomon isn't surprised by this, replying that it's to be expected considering that Nightbringer is “the one who made him who he is today.” (nb: 9-A and 10-A)

➤ He met Thirteen when he was still a child, and she wasn't even an apprentice reaper yet. The meeting was a surprise to both of them but to Solomon even more, who shrieked in terror when he saw her. According to her, Solomon's soul was as bright as MC's back then, but ever since becoming "The Witty Sorcerer" that changed and it no longer sparkles the same way. (nb: 11-10)

➤ Thirteen blames Barbatos for how much he changed. She told MC that Solomon used to be very lovable and innocent when he was younger, but that Barbatos let him experience whatever he wanted and that's the reason why nothing scares or fazes him anymore. (nb: 11-10)

➤ Although he's immortal there are still ways to kill Solomon by using certain magic and cursed items, and Thirteen is waiting for the day he dies to have his soul. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He was given the title of “the Witty Sorcerer” by Barbatos when the demon brought him to the Fountain of Knowledge for the first time while Solomon was on the verge of death. Barbatos then declared that the human was supposed to protect the spring, and Solomon stayed there until his wounds were healed. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He was raised in a place where magic was a thing to be feared and people were locked up and killed for simply having been rumored to have been seen using it. For that reason, Solomon's parents locked him in a basement away from the world when he started developing magic skills as a child out of fear of what the townsfolk could do to him and the rest of the family if they knew. (nb: 14-14)

➤ While locked away Solomon had a friend ( most likely another child ) who would visit him every now and then and chat with him through the bars of the window in the basement. Something happened to that friend, but Solomon couldn't bring himself to say what. (nb: 14-14 and 14-16)

➤ His life goal is to be powerful enough to protect humanity and to create a world where humans demons and angels can finally stand as equals (nb: 14-14 and 14-16), as opposed to now where humans are seen as an inferior race that to one side ( demons ) is prey and to the other ( angels ) are weaker beings that must be protected. That's also why he's determined to continue to make pacts with powerful demons such as Lucifer, to obtain more power from those pacts.

➤ In a book Satan found there is a passage about Solomon that reads: "Long ago, in a corner of the human world, a sorcerer of rare and extraordinary power was born. He was extremely unique, both in power and nature. As such, he was unable to find a place within human society, and was persecuted by his people, who refused to accept such an aberration. For quite some time he fought to suppress his own power; until he could do so no longer, and lost control. He ended up causing tremendous damage and destruction to the human world." "Once it became clear that the sorcerer posed a threat not just to humans, but to all three worlds, a lone demon appeared before him, offering him guidance. The demon made him guardian of the Fountain of Knowledge and gave him a new lease on life. And so, as the freshly minted protector of knowledge itself, he was thereafter known as 'the wise sorcerer, a title he retains to this day." (nb: 16-4)

➤ He fought a war against the Devildom by himself. (nb: 7-8) It started with Solomon proposing to the Demon King that the demonic realm partnered up with him and demons worked under him to further the Human World’s development, which angered the king and gave start to the war, which lasted 7 days. (nb card: "unforgettable past")

[beenbaanbuun]

pussy drunk w/ mingi

back on my munch!mingi shit… send help

——————————————————————————

no one is as insane about pussy drunk mingi as i am… swear to god mingi has just been on my mind all day and i need to get my thoughts off my chest.

like i fully believe that this man always goes into it believing he’s going to be strong. pull one, maybe two orgasms out of you with his mouth before moving on and sticking his cock in you. he’s not going to get carried away… not this time!

but then he actually gets in between your legs and he can see your pretty pussy squeezing around nothing, pushing your clear juices out of you. he watches the way they dribble down your slit, slicking up your pussy and the inside of your thighs, and this man just groans; he knows he’s already lost the battle.

he dives in, starting off with soft kisses and tiny little kitten licks to your clit, but his head is already hazy, and with the best will in the world, this man already knows he’s fucked. all it takes is for the first moan to slip from your lips and he’s thinking, fuck it. maybe next time he’ll be stronger. maybe next time he’ll be able to stop the way his big hands land on your hips as he licks a wide stripe up your slit. maybe next time he’ll be able to resist slipping into the desperate state of mind he always does when your pussy is in his mouth.

he’s messy with it after that. absolutely nothing is calculated, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. it absolutely does, from the way he sloppily makes out with your folds to the way he probes your hole with his tongue. he clearly knows how to please you, even if the only thing on his mind right now is his own pleasure. maybe it’s just his passion, or maybe he’s just naturally gifted.

and sometimes, he’ll even manhandle you and push you into your front. no particular reason, but he likes having something to ground him and you being face down, ass up gives his hands perfect access to your ass cheeks. his huge hands are just cupping them, massaging and squeezing and smacking as he literally devours you. sometimes he’ll dig his nails in to the soft flesh, adding just the perfect amount of pain to make you tense up and squeeze out even more of your juices for mingi to slurp up.

not that he has a preference whether you’re on your front or your back; either way, you know that he’s having the time of his life with his face deep in your pussy. you can tell by the sounds he makes. obscene slurping sounds fill the room, punctuated by a mixture of deep groans and out-of-character high pitched moans. your own pretty whines can barely be heard over mingi’s desperate cries, but you don’t care; the fact that mingi is audibly enjoying it just as much as you only adds to your pleasure.

speaking of pleasure, mingi gets his from rutting desperately against the mattress like a bitch in heat. he’s rock hard from the moment he started, but he can’t bear to pull his mouth away for long enough to slip his dick inside of you, so the bed sheets will have to do. he’s always quick to cum, and even quicker to get hard again. the poor boy is always practically crying from overstimulating himself by the time he’s finished with your pussy; it’s not his fault you make him so painfully stiff.

but it’s not just himself he seems intent on overstimulating; he always pushes you to your very limits too. it’s never intentional, and it’s always just him getting lost in the moment and filled up with pathetic desperation for just more but it’s safe to say he won’t be stopping until you’re desperately pushing him away. you’ll be whining and kicking your feet and desperately pushing at his head, and all of a sudden he’ll snap out of his hunger and slip back into reality, sheepishly pulling away as if he hadn’t been behaving like a starving man seconds prior.

“too much?” he always asks as he pulls away. he always prays that you never say ‘yes’, and to this day you haven’t. it’s a good thing; he never wants to push you too far, even though he could quite happily sit between your thighs for days if you let him. he’s happy to just lie by your side with you slowly dropping to sleep in his arms for now, though. you need a rest, and now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure his jaw does too. even smiling aches now, but he can’t help himself as he watches you tuck yourself into his chest, soft snores leaving your lips.

[fernandopiastri28]

sickly sweet ~ lando norris x reader

warnings: drinking, smut, pwp, angst 😬 mdni!

Lando Norris- known manwhore. When he's not in his car going 350 km/h, he chases that thrill in other things in life. Designer items, drinks, parties- women. But there's only one thing that he really wants, he craves her love- his bestfriend.

She felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around her waist, almost suffocatingly tight. It made it hard to breathe, the paining sensation only increased by the already constricted airflow inside the crowded club. “Lan?” She murmured, her head turning each way in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her best friend. She felt woozy due to the alcohol seeping through her system and she really didn’t need to deal with an over insistent man who believed he had the privilege to her body in her current state.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lando’s chin rested against her shoulder, his hot breath tickling her neck. Those were his arms around her, holding her body closer to him then anything surrounding the pair. “I’m here,” One of his hands travelled up to her hair, his fingers gliding through her frizzing hair. “Don’t worry,”

Sure, Lando was a naturally affectionate person, often insisting on hugging as a greeting and goodbye, or resting his head on the shoulder of absolutely anyone who was near him. He liked touch, saw it as the easiest way he could express his caring and love for others. But drunk him was another level- hands anywhere he could get them, face buried into their shoulder or neck. 

“Lan, you’re really drunk,” She giggled, pushing her slight anxiety down to her stomach as his lips started moving aimlessly against her neck. He wasn’t quite kissing there, but only because he was moving too quickly to be able to actually press his lips to a single spot. 

He grumbled, dissatisfied with her comment. “So? You are too,” Lando was sounding pissy already which only usually happened later into the night. By this point, he was usually going to go seek off some other girl to spend the night with who would fawn over his every move and beg for more.

Her head tilted back, resting against his chest slightly, “I am,” A grin played across her lips, forcing his grimace to transition into a smirk, his eyes full of pure adrenaline without a single thought behind them. “Not as much as you though,”

A nod of agreeance came from him, his hands idly moving up and down on her waist, settling on her hips for a few seconds as her body continued to aimlessly sway along with the music. “It’s difficult to be more drunk than I am- especially since you’re such a heavy weight,”

It was true, and something that Lando was incredibly envious of. He wanted her ability to pour endless drinks down her mouth, consuming absolutely anything she wanted at once and manage to feel perfectly fine the next morning, while he would find himself with a throbbing headache, next to a girl he couldn’t remember the name of. Maybe he’d never asked her though.

“Or maybe you’ve just drunk more,” She dragged a finger along his cheek. Even if she didn’t show it as much, she was certainly feeling very drunk. For once, she wanted to be like Lando, feel like him. She craved his complete confidence and how he would feel as if he was on top of the world each time a drop of alcohol entered his system.

Maybe tonight she’d finally score a man to bring home, be the one to tell Lando all about her most recent hookup instead of always being on the receiving end of hearing it from him.

But at least for right now, all of his attention was on her. He looked at her like she was one of the girls he’d want for even just a night, instead of the one he left behind each time they’d planned to go out together.

She knew full well that the way Lando treated his one night stands was far from something that she should be dreaming about almost nightly, to be the girl that woke up to the sight of Lando’s peaceful sleepy face, his dark lashes fluttering over his cheeks and his unruly curls- but she knew a different side of him. The one that was loving, that cared. The side of him that would talk in the highest of praise about the girls he did really like, and how he never once spoke ill of someone to her.  

He was different then how he came across, she knew that.

He held a bottle of some blue liquid, the spout of it resting against his bottom lip. She ogled up at him, her eyes wide and pupils huge. “Hello,” He grinned, laughing at her dopey upside down expression as she leaned against him. “You’re smiley tonight,” He teased, his hand wrapping tighter around her stomach to keep her up.

“I am smiley,” A deep sigh left her chest, her cheeks beginning to hurt from how wide her smile was stretching out. “I like your face,” She mumbled out, each syllable oozing into the next. “It’s a good face- a true one at that,” Her body wasn’t used to this much alcohol, and she was feeling any kind of shame melting away and just a desperate need to be completely honest. 

A rosy flush was almost definitely covering her face at this point, given how hot it felt to the touch. “I like your face too,” He smiled, his nose nudging against her forehead. It felt unexplainable, like a thousand bolts of lightning crashing into her all at once. “It’s pretty cute,” His thumb swiped along her chin, nudging it open so he could place the finish of his bottle inside her mouth, the glass heavy on her bottom teeth.

He tilted it up, letting it run over her tongue and pool up inside her mouth. It was near sickening sweet, likely what his mouth tasted like given how much he’d already drunk the majority of it. “Good,” Two of his fingers tapped her chin again, his other fingers clasping the neck of the bottle so it didn’t drop. She shut her mouth, swallowing awkwardly due to the angle her head was at. 

Once her mouth was empty again, her lips parted, her eyes moving up further to where the whites underneath her iris’ were even more visible. “More?’ She mumbled, her back shifting back unconsciously to steady herself against him. He granted her wish, keeping her mouth open as he hooked his two fingers over her bottom teeth as more alcohol spilt into her mouth.

“Fucking hell,” He hissed, his pink tongue darting out between his teeth in concentration. Their eyes refused to move and break contact, tension just building the longer the moment lasted. “You’re so fucking hot doing that,”

Her body got hotter at the praise, her mind short circuiting and essentially spilling out of her ears. “You’re sexy,” Her lips wrapped around the bottle, suckling on it gently as the final few drops spilt onto her tongue. 

He went silent, his eyes darting across her face as a way to memorise each curvature and feature complete. He wanted to engrave this moment into his mind for the rest of time. The bottle slid down her mouth further, her lips pursing and stretching thinner around the thickness. His mouth dropped open ever so slightly, his eyes near bulging out of his head at the erotic sight.

He was hard, undoubtedly. His arousal pressed against her ass where her dress clung tightly around. He grinded against her, desperate for some sense of contact and pressure against his ache. “ Baby ,” He whined into her neck, pulling the bottle away from her mouth to rest it against some table.  

Her heart pounded harder in her chest, feeling like it could explode at any given moment. The mix of the nickname, the desperation in his voice, the way his crotch was rubbing straight against her. “ Lan ,” She moaned, turning around so her chest was pressed against his, the silk fabric of his button up gliding against her exposed skin. “Please,” Her voice cracked with straight need.

“Please what ?” His hand settled into place against her jawline, his palm flush with the front of her neck, the slightest pressure against it. He knew what she wanted, both of their intentions so crystal clear, but he wanted to hear her say it- needed it.

“Kiss me,” Her voice was so fucking weak at that point, her expression completely wanton and eager for him. His eyes went straight to her lips where a glossy whine of the remaining alcohol coated them, making them even more red and wetter. The grip his hand had on her jaw tightened, putting her head into the perfect position for him.

His mouth moved against hers quickly, her bottom lip slotting in between hers in an almost practised manner. Her mouth parted, his tongue slipping inside the warm emptiness within seconds. Moans from her spilt into his mouth, the vibrating sensation going straight to his dick, somehow getting even harder with each movement she made against him.

One of her hands trailed up to his hair, tugging on his curls. They were so delicate in between her fingers, perfect coils wrapping around each digit. Her other hand snuck up under his shirt, the back of her hand brushing against the soft silk while her palm and finger tips explored his hardened abs. 

“More,” She begged, her nose nudging against his as their lips finally broke away. His breathing was heavy, laboured almost. Their bodies were still resting flush against each other as his left hand sat heavily on her ass, squeezing it, while his other remained cupping her face. 

“What do you want, gorgeous?” His voice was lower, breathless from making out for so long. He’d tipped his head down, his mouth close to her ear. There were so many things she wanted- she wanted to kiss more, she wanted to feel his tongue all around her mouth, she wanted to taste him, she really wanted to fix the ache in between her legs.

So with not even half her brain working to put together a proper cohesive sentence, she mumbled out the first thing that came to mind, “ Hotel ,”. Whether it was her hotel or his wasn’t important, all that mattered was for them to have a private room to stay up all night together in private. Because despite how at this point she could probably be convinced to drop down onto her knees and suck his cock right then and there without much effort from the brit- it wouldn’t look too good for an f1 driver to be receiving a blowjob in a random club in Singapore. 

Maybe his one would be nicer on the other hand, a Formula one driver would likely have been supplied a higher star hotel then some girl in law school using her own money to pay.

With one swift move, each of her legs were on either side of his waist, her thighs bracketing his hips to keep herself up. One of his arms snaked around her waist for stability as he navigated his way out of the club, avoiding anyone who was clearly trying to approach him for either a photo or an autograph. 

She buried her face in the collar of his shirt, one of her hands trying to cover her face in a last chance attempt to conceal her identity in case anyone had been filming. It was something she should’ve considered before they started making out, but she couldn’t change the past now.

The humid Singaporean air struck them the second they pushed past the entrance doors. A thin sheen of sweat collected on the back of Lando’s neck, but she was unaffected. Singapore was a consistent visit of hers so she’d become accustomed to the near unbearable heat. 

A taxi rolled up right to where they were standing and before she even had the chance to ask when he managed to book one, Lando’s mouth was on hers again. She didn’t even notice the taxi door being opened until he was arranging her on his lap in the backseat, his eyes going directly down to her breasts. He placed a soft kiss to one where some cleavage was exposed from the dress’s style, while his hand worked at kneading the flesh.

A whimper of satisfaction passed by her lips, earning a shit-eating grin from the man. He continued his ministrations, tugging down some of the fabric over her breast to kiss further down her chest. Her head tipped back, hitting against the headrest of the passenger seat. As she ground her hips harder into his, each bump of the road that the car hit just pushed his boner further against her drenched cunt through her panties, a wet patch forming on his trousers.

“Pretty thing,” He trailed his lips up her neck, her jaw, then suckling on just her bottom lip. “So fucking wet for me,” He growled, pulling her body impossibly closer to him. Part of her wished she’d been sober for this- to be able to enjoy this moment with complete clarity and be sure to remember each and every event the next morning.

The drive seemed excruciatingly long, but had only been a mere few minutes in reality. Her body had essentially moulded into his by the end of it, her legs unable to work to take her to the elevator up to his room. They didn’t need to work though, he was more than excited at the opportunity to carry her as long as he could.

And she sure as hell wouldn’t be able to walk by the end of the evening. 

The second the elevator doors drew to a close, Lando’s hand was tugging her panties to the side, allowing a finger to slide along her clit, “Good?” He nuzzled his head into her neck, kissing the smooth skin there over and over. The touch was met with a string of pleasured moans, all more beautiful than the last.

He got prepared before the doors reopened, grabbing his phone out with his keycard secured in the back of it, ready to open the door the second they arrived so he could be on top of her as quickly as possible. The grazing of his finger stopped long enough for him to unlock the door, and resumed as soon as it clicked shut.

“Lando, fuck, please,” She begged, overstimulated by all the drawn out teasing of the night. “Just finger me already,” She was at her wits end, completely ready to just touch herself if he wouldn’t take it a step further right then.

She didn’t have to do that though as he answered her prayers, sliding a thick finger into her aching cunt. A sigh of relief left her lips, her hole clenched around his finger in reflex. He carried her into the bedroom, settling her down on the bed as he hovered over her, his knees on either side of her hips as he covered her face in chaste open mouthed kisses.

The pleasure turned to a quick flash of dull pain when he removed his finger, pulling her underwear down and tossing them across the room in a drunken hurry. His green eyes widened as he stared directly at her pussy, his pupils shooting wide in lust. “Fuckk,” He sighed, “Can I.. taste?” He wasn’t sure exactly how to word the request but she granted him permission regardless. 

He shuffled down, his massive hands grasping her thighs to position them over his shoulders. She lifted her hips off the mattress so as to allow him to push the bottom of her dress higher up before his head dipped down, his nose nudging at her clit. The sensation sends a rush of slick straight to where his mouth was readily waiting.

Tentatively, the tip of his tongue licked alongside her hole to her clit, emitting a shudder and a groan from the girl. He squeezed down on her thighs, rubbing the right one with his thumb to help her calm down. “What colour?” He murmured, looking up at her from between her legs. 

“Green,” Her head tilted back, hitting against the pillow as she moaned into it. With the go ahead, his tongue repeated the motion, pulling more noises out of her throat. He began to eagerly lap at her wetness, the taste coating over his tongue as he grew more desperate to make her cum.

He had become increasingly more aware of the pain in his trousers, his neglected erection tenting uncomfortable in his too tight boxers. Squeezing one of her thighs tighter to make up for the loss of his hand, he reached his hand down to his crotch and began palming at the spot. He tilted his head down, his tongue fucking her while his nose buried into her bundle of nerves.

She was feeling so much. The way his tongue was buried deep inside her, how his nose was expertly rubbing her clit, his hands stroking the insides of her thighs where goosebumps prickled, and most of all- the way his deep emerald eyes remained staring into her soul. He lapped at her wetness like he’d been deprived of sex for years- in reality it couldn’t have been more than a month. 

He had a one track mind, always did. His only goal in life was win, win, win. And today’s prize was making the beautiful girl laying on his bed, his best friend, cum with his mouth. Determined to make that happen, and make it happen right then, his teeth grazed against her slit gently to overstimulate her. 

Sure enough, the action got her legs shaking and her back arching. “Fuck, Lando,” Her hand yanked on his hair, effectively pulling him away slightly. His eyes went wide in shock, it certainly hadn’t been the reaction he’d expected. 

“I’m sorry,” He kissed the inside of her left thigh, his hand idly tenderly rubbing her knee. “Did it hurt?” She shook her head, having to crane her neck to look down at him. His cheek rubbed against her leg, another kiss to the bend of her knee. That time he suckled the spot, hollowing his cheeks to leave a small red spot when he pulled away.

“No, no- just.. sensitive,” She had to take a few moments to breathe, her chest raising and dropping with forced effort. “You- you can go again,” It’s more of a request than a suggestion, and he took it seriously. 

His mouth returned to her heat, his tongue swiping up in a practised motion, each one met with more noises of delight and pleasure. A hand yanking his hair again signalled her orgasm, spilling into his mouth. He drew to a halt, going slower as she came down from her high so it wouldn’t ache from the abrupt ending.

He scooted up so his face was just mere inches above hers. He couldn’t even try to force back the smile that played on his face upon seeing how absolutely fucked out she was. Her half lidded eyes, bitten lips, sweaty skin- it was truly a sight. He kissed her, over and over, wanting nothing more than to experience the pressure of her mouth on his.

As he kept his lips on hers, he began tugging down the top of her dress to reveal her strapless bra, one of his hands moved underneath her back, his fingers toying with the clasp of her bra before snapping it open. His fingers inched the thick fabric away, the pads of his fingers grazing along her bare chest. “I’m surprised it took you so long to get that off,” She snickered, “Thought you’d wanna see my boobs first thing,” Lando felt a wave of shame rush over him, drowning in embarrassment of her comment. 

He puffed hot air up onto his top lip, a slight snarl twisting his lips. “Is that how I make you feel? Like all I want from you is your body?” His tone was harsh, piercing her skin and leaving a mark. Her expression shifted from her drunken daze to somewhat more alert. The sting behind his tone was solely just a cover for his genuine hurt, unbeknownst to her.

“No, no, Lans..” Her hand cupped his cheek, her voice softening as she said it. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it like that at all,” She angled for a kiss, receiving one almost immediately as he was an absolute sucker for an apology kiss. “If anything that’s more me, I was the one begging for you earlier,” That soothed his nerves, his mood switching back to aiming for pleasure.

He sat back on his heels as she shuffled her legs closer to her, her knees bending up towards the ceiling while still straightened enough to allow them to keep their eye contact. Lando bit his bottom lip, a cheeky grin sneaking out through it. “Sex?” He finally asked, watching her expression turn to match his. 

She leaned forward, hands tangling up in the fabric of his button up. Within seconds it had joined her panties somewhere flung mindlessly across the floor. Her fingers massaged into the groves of his back muscles, relishing in how each one ripples with each sudden movement he makes.

His fingers clasped around the zip of her dress, pulling it down tantalisingly slowly. With each bit of skin that was further revealed, his lips peppered kisses down her body. Her eyes fluttered shut, lost in the pleasure and an overwhelming feeling of ‘ oh god, finally’. As she felt the last of her dress removed and likely joined the other discarded clothes, Lando let out a short breath of exhilaration.

His nose nudged her neck, lips focused on her collarbones. “Open your eyes,” He grumbled, his thumbs kneading into her waist. “Want you to see this, pretty thing,” Her eyelids were heavier than ever so opening them felt like a chore. 

A flush of wetness streamed straight to her core as she felt him rocking his hips against her cunt. With a flurry of hands and mouths on eachother, she tucked her fingers into his boxer’s waistband and shoved them down, his hardened cock smacking up to hit his stomach.

Her eyes practically turned black as her pupils grew beyond a size Lando deemed possible. “Happy?” A finger slid back inside her like it had been before, moving in and out before realising she’s definitely ready enough for a second one. 

“Horny,” His free hand tightened in place over her hips, lifting up to help his digits reach further into her. He ignored her clit, wanting her to finish for a second time when he was actually inside her.

The head of his cock was reddened and had drops of pre-cum lining all over it. He removed his fingers from inside of her, met with a groan of discomfort, and moved that hand to wrap around his aching shaft. “I needa fuck you right now,” Lando grumbled, his hand stroking his throbbing cock a few times before meeting her eyes, seeing only pure lust and want.

His hands gripped her legs, pulling them apart and locking them to wrap around his waist. One hand returned back to his dick, guiding it into her dripping hole. A gasp was punched from her throat as he got close to bottoming out. She was full, insanely full, as if he was to leave right then she wouldn’t have been a complete woman without him inside her.

Admittedly, there was definitely a fair amount of pain that accompanies the intrusion, but it doesn’t come close to the overwhelming pleasure. “Colour?” His voice was thick as he moved in and out of her with renewed energy.

“Green,” 

Lando went faster and deeper. 

“Greener,” Her expression was dazed and dopey as she looked up at him, her lips lax as she tried to express that she wanted kisses while he ruined her.

He didn’t get the hint, just pushed her legs further up and went quicker.

He finished first and she followed quickly after. He collapsed on top of her in an exhausted pile of a mess, his breathing heavy and manual. “That was so fucking good,” Her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, a sort of emptiness filling the void. She wished he would shut up as he kept rambling on about how pretty she was and how perfect tonight had been. Post sex clarity set in, and hit hard.

Because not only did she just hook up with an f1 driver in a random country, that driver was the man that had been her best friend for years and was a known manwhore. “I love you,” He mumbled, his hand playing with her hair. “Always have, for fucking years I’ve loved you” She didn’t hear him though, his mouth muffled with a blanket in front of it and her ears covered by her pillow.

He fell asleep with his body half on top of her, his arm draped across her chest. Of course he wasn’t the type to practise aftercare. She wiggled out from underneath him, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion and the desperate need for sleep. As soon as her feet hit the plush cushioning of the carpet and the city lights of Singapore nightlife illuminated her face, she realised the grim mistake she’d made.

So with that, she picked her bra and underwear up off the floor, nicking a pair of his smallest shorts and an oversized McLaren hoodie, wrapped herself up in those clothes and headed downstairs to the lobby, calling a taxi to her own account despite how the receptionist said the charge could go to the room she’d stayed in- to Lando.

Even though he had plenty of money to his name and on his card, and how a fifteen dollar taxi would hardly be noticed- she didn’t want to feel an obligation to him to pay him back for this. She needed clarity and space, and feeling like she owed him wouldn’t allow that. 

With a quick text sent to him, ‘ thanks for tonight, don’t think we should do it again,’ she stepped into her taxi and headed to her own hotel, showering his touch off under scalding water.

The next morning when he woke up tangled in a heap of blankets and pillow, he noticed how cold and empty the bed was. “Love?” His voice thick with sleep, his arms aimlessly reaching for her. They hit nothing though, he was alone in his bed. 

He sat up in a panic, every single moment from the night before remembered exactly. Dancing at the club, his drink in her mouth, the look in her eyes. Back at the hotel, his hands undressing her, their mouths attached to each other’s with undoubtable passion. Him buried inside her, how she’d sounded, how gorgeous she’d looked underneath him.

He’d fucking told her he loved her. And now she was gone. 

The now cold bed sheets wound tighter around his body, the false feeling of an embrace not nearly enough to heal the hurt.

~ part 2 ~

[faetreides]

pwetty please more dom art, switch patrick, sub reader. that blurb was so so good i think “Go ahead and make daddy cum while I give him kisses, ‘kay?” may be the hottest thing anyone has ever said ever actually

# 🫀HONEST HEARTS 🪤 !!

cw: WEIRD VIBES, dom art switch patrick sub reader coded, heavy on the art x patrick, breeding kink/pregnancy/ambiguous baby trapping (???), art’s lowkey mean, daddy kink (referring to patrick), patrick calls you a slut, oral (afab reader receiving), patrick’s sandwiched in between you & art, anal sex (m receiving), summer heat will have you displaying behaviors and acting in ways, ambiguous era, feminization (one use of “mama” not in a mommy kink way), stream of consciousness style writing, they’re gross but so are you, reader having a hamlet holding up the skull moment

Art fucks Patrick like a bat out of hell, you lie beneath them wet and wanting as you watch patrick’s sweaty body flail around like a ragdoll. Art squishes your bodies together, pressing his weight against Patrick's back. There’s so much pressure on your lungs, you’re scared you’ll pop. The humid July air is so thick around you that the plush bedding feels swathed in a soft old film yellow tint, you and Patrick swap glassy eyes when his tip finally sinks into your tight ass. No lube in sight, you want pain that only skinny dipping in a private river after dark will fix. Reminders of youth, the sting from the current as it travels through the indents of teeth.

You would think Art had become a ferocious shark, inky pupils dripping onto Patrick's shoulder blades and toothy grins, feral and lead only by his cock at the first scent of blood he could catch. yours, Patrick’s, his. Patrick fucks your ass to the point of no return, his pace never ceasing until all you is the word “Daddy” howled out over and over. Every thrust earns art deeper inside of him, Patrick greedily rolls his hips back. In appreciation Art leans down and watches his spit highlight how cock drunk the two of you are, a see through trail trickling down both of your faces onto the pillow.

It’s like Art doesn’t have any worth until he’s fucking you and Patrick out of your minds at the same time. He hooks his chin in Patrick’s shoulder, winking down at you as he ramps up the speed of his thrusts. Patrick’s eyes tighten in pleasure-pain but any sounds he has to offer are muffled in the seams of your slick lips, you open your mouth to catch them and hoard them all. Breathy pants and whines and growls becuase Patrick may be the one getting fucked the most, but you should never forget who’s next in line to benefit from this little symbiotic expression of your relationship. You’re the atlar, solid foundation and the center of life’s devotion. Art and Patrick are the attendants, bringing you animal sacrifices in the form of their flesh and soul and hearts. In their bones and in the nerves connecting to their brain, where you all exist in an undefiled state even as fluids are spilt in between the cracks in the marble. A poor man’s kintsugi.

Patrick begs Art to cum, but you defer to Patrick when it’s your time to be a babbling brook around his thick length. Art always says yes when the other man’s balls deep in you, plus he has dibs on your pussy this week. It’s in their nature, to desire each other carnally and still keep each other entangled in steep competition even when those desires are fulfilled in excess. Art really wants a baby, you’ve been too gung ho to bounce all over the world as if it were your very own tennis court. Explaining it by using their busy careers as an opportunity, you must not know that you’re best when you’re right where they can see you. Even if they’re not there, jerking each other off to grainy security cam footage is their own bonding time. Sometimes you put on shows for them, modeling expensive lingerie that you think is going to be a surprise for their welcome home. Art always has an eye and a hold on Patrick, they both want that with you too.

“Go on,” He whispers for only Patrick’s uniquely shaped ears to hear, sorry angel. “The sooner you give our baby that nice big tangy load I know you’ve got for us, the sooner I can get their tummy swollen.”

Daddy gets his favorite kind of kisses when he floods your ass with cum, and he licks the remaining drops off your stretched rim with Art’s hand heavy on his head. You get your kisses too, from each of them until you’re sinking so far into that dreamy kind of headspace that affection from you means you lazily smack your lips together and call it a job well done. Fuzzy voices coo at you that it was indeed a job well done, squelching noises accompany Patrick reluctantly pulling out. You both whine the exact same way, Art beams and shushes you, using Patrick’s bruised ass to get rock hard and wet again for your puffy pussy.

“Just like that, fuck! Should have taken a picture, don’t you think? Make it last longer, keep you useful.”

All talk, as long as he’s alive he’ll have use. Existence breeds obsession, split three ways, the way some god intended. Like calls to like, moths to flame, water to silent desert rock, bleeding knuckles to piping hot iron, copper to silver, bones to soil, ball to grass-clay-concrete court.

Patrick hates it when you and art fight, turning him into a scared puppy. He doesn’t say to your face that he agrees with Art, that you shouldn’t leave the house amidst all the stress that a possible pregnancy can bring. Stress that’s easily worked off under their touch, stuffed full of so much cum that it might as well replace your gray matter. You can’t run laps around the house despite it being what your anxiety is telling you to do. You have to wait there on the toilet, holding each of their hands as you wait for the test results. Once the necessary time has passed, you can’t overcome your nervousness and instead wait for Art to look at one of the sticks.

You barely catch a glimpse of the test result when you’re tackled. Patrick’s on you first, sucking your tongue into his mouth while cradling your head in his hands so you don’t feel it when you bump into the wall. Art chastises him of course, pulling him back by his ear to give you some space. They’re both smiling, wide and blinding white grins so dazzling that you’re worried you’ll go blind. Their reactions alone tell you more than you could ever need to know, the monarch butterflies scurry from stomach to stomach. Those teeming with life and those forever starving. Art gives you a slow kiss and hums into you, the vibrations travel down to your flexing toes. Bubbly laughter drowns out the cracks of lightning outside, baby blanket blue on fire white.

You want to be loved in a way that’s wrong and out of sorts, your arousal is heightened by what your paranoia tells you will be someone’s undoing. Yours or theirs. Both. No one really needs pure intentions to love or be loved at the end of the day, and maybe that’s something to be grateful for. There are people who can love the sin as well as the sinner. Your hormones are doing a number on you, that much is clear, if you’re philosophizing about the morals of being in love when there more than likely are none. There’s just that so much time to think, that initial fear of being left when you yourself would be too overencumbered to. Art picks up on these kinds of thoughts more often than Patrick, who’s just happy to belong somewhere and to someone. The former busies himself with the heft of your tits. Sucks the life out of your hard nipples and then some, he adores when you come begging with a dripping cunt after a late afternoon nap because you had a very good dream.

“Lie back angel, working so hard right now… you need a break, mama.” Art giggles, engaging in a riveting one on one conversation with your throbbing clit, rapidly flicking it with his tongue as he locks clear eyes with your sleepy blinks. “Pussy’s gushing like a fountain now, ‘s so chubby too, I hope you never fucking work off the baby weight.”

Later they’ll wipe you down from the shower with their tongues, slurping up the water droplets like they’re bugs hovering around an in bloom blush pink flower because they’re freaks like that. Patrick’s out on the now usual run to the nearest convenience store for your latest cravings, he’ll try it with you too no matter what it is. Art does his best, but you’re too sensitive to others being nauseous to handle seeing his skin almost cartoonishly flood with a light mossy green undertone. Fall brings a whole new array of food combinations and flavors of snack cakes just waiting for you to inhale them worryingly quickly. Art brings your focus back to him with a teasing nip to your bud, closing his lips around it and giving it a firm suck as the front door unlatches. The crinkling of plastic grocery bags reach your ears before Patrick’s corny “Honey, I’m home!” does. More single minded than a dog with his bone, the bags clatter to the floor and his shoes pound the floor on the way to where you’re cumming on Art’s face in a flash of white.

Patrick frowns, “You know I don't like you being a slut when I'm not there, now you owe me two rounds.”

Art reminds the other man that you might not have the energy for the two rounds he’s imagining, full of slapping skin and ghoulish howls, Patrick simply says that you can drift off while he ruts away. Into you or on you, so long as his puffy tip is touching some sort of skin, makes him wish he could burrow and dig a tunnel inside you. Live in one of the chambers in your heart, Art in the other, your kids in the next, a no vacancy sign boarding the last of them shut. You tilt your head to the side so he runs his nose along the faint line of your pulse. He should record the echoing rhythmic thumps for when they’re traveling and can’t sleep without their missing piece. His chest burns when the words well up and won’t come out how he needs them too, how can you express that you need to live in someone’s very dna without letting your huge dick do the talking for you? He’ll quite possibly never know, maybe a rare showing of Art riding Patrick into the center of the earth as he gasps for life saving breath will be enough for you.

[aerynwrites]

Remember

Halsin x gn!Reader

A/N: thank you for the request @sabersandsnipers! I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy! See the request here.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: kissing, love confessions, miscommunication, drunk reader, drunk confessions, morning hangovers/blurry memory, Halsin being a gentleman 🥰

The campfire burns brightly in the night, heating your already heated cheeks.

You all finally came across some good wine, pilfered from a wine cellar in a small abandoned town. Astarion practically melted as he read the labels. Practically glaring at you when you asked him what was so special.

“These are vintage darling. Practically liquid gold compared to the piss we’ve been drinking.”

Your other companions had happily helped tote crates of the stuff back to camp then, excited to finally indulge in the best, for once.

And it is the best. The best you’ve ever had for sure. At least in recent memory.

The wine is rich and decadent, passing your lips without that unpleasant burn the cheap stuff gives. It’s sweet and slides down easily - maybe a little too easily.

It turns your brain to figurative mush, your limbs starting to feel heavy despite the uncontrollable giggles slipping past your lips as Karlach acts out another one of her battle stories.

Your inhibitions have started to slip, especially those tied to your tongue. Because along with your giggles you’re unable to stop your flirtatious rambling to the druid sitting beside you at the fire. He is also taking part in the festivities, albeit more cautiously, only having had a single glass to your…

Well…you don’t know how many.

Another giggle slips past your lips as you lean into the man at your side, watching as Karlach flops down onto the ground in a reenactment of her downing an enemy. Wyll goes to help her up but is also unsteady on his feet and soon joins her in the dirt, both of them howling in laughter.

Halsin lets out a laugh of his own at their antics and you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your numb lips.

“I like your laugh,” you say, turning to look up at Halsin.

The man is taller than you even sitting down, so when he looks down to you, pieces of his hair fall forward into his face.

“My laugh?” He asks, a smile splitting his lips as he most likely finds enjoyment in your inebriated state.

You nod, leaning forward once more to rest your forehead against his chest, abandoning your goblet in favor of wrapping the man in a weak embrace.

“I just like you,” your words are slurred as you slump more into the larger man’s embrace. “And you smell good.”

Halsins chest rumbles with laughter beneath your cheek and it just further adds to the buzzing beneath your skin, even more so when you feel his hands grasp your arms gently.

Yet another thing you notice about him. His hands are calloused, roughened with years of using a weapon and tending the land and communing with nature. But he’s so…gentle. His smile, his words, his laugh, his entire being just screams safety.

It’s what draws you to him no matter how much you try to stay away. Which isn’t very much considering he has slowly started to reciprocate your attraction.

At least…you hope.

“I think it’s high time for you to get some rest,” Halsin says, moving to stand from his seat and guide you to do the same.

“What?” You ask, the world spinning slightly as you get to your feet. “But I’m having fun!”

The words are slurred as Halsin slips an arm around around your waist to steady you, slowly leading you away from the fire. You don’t miss the various whistles and hoots from your other companions as he does so.

Halsin smiles, not that you see it as you focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he leads you.

“I know you were, but it will be an ill-fated day tomorrow if you continue to drink.”

Despite your drunken state you recognize the wisdom in his words.

“You’re probably right, but -“ you pause as you struggle to take in your surroundings before you realize you’re being led away from your tent.

“Wait, my tent is that way,” you emphasize by pointing a staggering finger in the vague direction of your tent, a movement that causes your feet to twist up beneath you.

You would have fallen if it weren’t for the druid at your side stopping to catch you before opting to lift you into his arms instead.

“I know where your tent is located, but my tent is far closer.”

You hum in response, your head lolling backwards, eyes meeting the stars above you.

“I can walk, you know.”

Halsin laughs at this, shifting to support your head as he draws closer to his tent. “Your earlier attempts would disprove that statement.”

You pout your lip at him as he finally ducks into his tent. “You’re mean,” you say plainly.

“I apologize, little one.”

His words hold little apology but you don’t point it out as he finally lowers you to your feet, helping as you try to steady yourself. Only when he pulls away do you finally look up at him, and you take the moment of silence to take in the man before you.

He’s still smiling down at you, all while watching to make sure you keep your feet. His brows furrow slightly with every uneasy shift of your body, his hands tightening where they rest on your hips.

Without thinking you reach up, placing uncoordinated fingers against the scars that run over his brow. He stills at this, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed as you trail your fingers down. Your hand cups his cheek now, thumb running over where the scar ends just below his lips.

Lips you want nothing more than to kiss right now.

His eyes open then, as if sensing your questioning stare. You’ve both drifted closer to one another during this silent moment, your chests brushing together as you look up at him.

“Halsin?”

“Yes, my heart?”

Your breath stutters in your chest at the new nickname, and you can smell the faint scent of wine on his breath as he speaks.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words fall into silence, and you can practically feel the tension in the air dissipate as Halsin’s eyes close tightly, a sigh falling from his lips as he steps away from you slightly.

Your drunken mind moves before he speaks, making you stumble over your words.

“Oh that’s - I understand. I shouldn’t have asked, that was - I’m sorry I-“

Before you can ramble any further, Halsin has your face cradled in his hands, green eyes capturing your own.

“You misunderstand,” he tells you, thumbs brushing your cheek bones lightly. “I have wanted to kiss you, to touch you for longer than you can imagine,” he admits, eyes softening. “But I do not wish for our first kiss, our first coming together to be in the midst of a wine induced haze.”

He smiles.

“I want you to remember this, and I’m afraid in this state, you may wake tomorrow with no memory of tonight.” He moves to push a stray piece of hair from your face as one hand settles at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “I do not want to lose a moment with you.”

His words ease the anxiety roiling in your belly, and you find it in you to nod. The sentiment increases the heat in your cheeks once again.

Halsin smiles at your ascent, and gently leads you to bed. His bed roll is set up on top of a pile of furs which cradle your body perfectly where you all but flop onto it. Your earlier statement of not being tired is quickly erased as your eyelids begin to shut, sleep tugging at your mind as you settle into the soft bed.

The last thing you remember before slumber takes you is the feeling of warm hands trailing your arms before something soft covers you and one brief thought.

He feels the same.

——————

A pounding headache is what eventually wakes you from your slumber. Your mouth is dry, tongue laying thick in your mouth as you try and fail to swallow and wet your mouth. Your eyelids feel filled with sand as you peel them open, only to be met with darkness. The only light is from the sun seeping into the tent in thin slivers from the slightly parted tent flap.

You notice multiple things at once. First being that you’re not in your tent, but in Halsins. The second being the smattering of blurry memories from last night.

Oh Gods…I basically threw myself at him!

You remember that vaguely, asking to kiss him, and then the rest is…foggy. You remember him turning you down and then not much else afterwards.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms you try to take in your surroundings, letting out a small sigh when you see Halsin isn’t in the tent with you. You can avoid embarrassment just a little longer, at least.

You quickly grab your shoes that you see at the end of the bedroll and after making sure the coast is clear you make your way across camp in the early morning light to your own tent.

The next few hours pass in a blur if periodic sleep and the eventuality of the camp stirring to life around you. A rude reminder that you can’t avoid a certain druid forever.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Karlach's voice pierces the air as she pokes her head into your tent. “Can you take firewood duty? We’re running low.”

You nod quickly. You might not be able to avoid the inevitable but…maybe a little longer.

————

The woods are quiet, this time of day, morning starting to give way to midday as you wander through the trees, gathering suitable logs for camp.

However, the tranquility of nature gives your mind time to wander back to last night, desperately trying to force memories to light. But no matter how hard you try, nothing new comes to light. Just you embarrassing yourself in front of the man who’s captured your affections.

You sigh, before gasping as the toe of your boot catches on an exposed root, your thoughts distracting you from your surroundings. The wood in your arms teeters precariously and just about falls to the forest floor before you feel two strong hands steady you.

“You look as if you could use some help,” a familiar voice says, and your stomach flips as Halsin comes to stand in front of you, smiling down at you. “Here.”

He reaches out to take the wood from you before you can protest, the pile that nearly filled your arms looking tiny against his larger frame.

You want to become defensive, but stop yourself before you can snap. Your anger is misdirected to him when you’re really upset with yourself.

You give the man a small smile. “Thank you,” you say before gesturing back towards camp. “I think that should be enough for now, we can head back.”

Halsin just nods before moving in step beside you as you both make the short trek back to camp. Neither of you speak at first - you too anxious to bring anything up and Halsin is probably too polite to do the same.

At least you thought.

“You were gone from my tent when I arrive back from a hunt this morning,” he says simply. An observation. Yet it feels like an accusation, or at least a question. But you almost feel like you can hear…disappointment in his words. Hurt.

You don’t look at him, embarrassment blooming in your chest again. You shrug. “I just…figured I’d save us both the awkward embarrassment.”

You’re at the edge of camp now, and you stop next to the dwindling wood pile and start unloading pieces from Halsin arms onto the ground.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you finally say, avoiding his gaze still. “I shouldn’t have drank so much and I definitely shouldn’t have put you on the spot and I just thought that if I left this morning it would save you from having to turn me down again and-“

The last piece of wood falls from your hands as you fumble over your words, but a steadying hand quickly reaches out to grab your own before you can move to pick it up again.

Finally, you turn to look at Halsin, and you’re taken aback to see…amusement twinkling In his eyes, his lips tugging up into a small grin.

“So you do not remember last night?” He asks, head tilting to the side slightly.

You shake your head, frowning. “I mean I don’t - I remember some of it. I remember asking to - to kiss you…” you cringe slightly at the hazy memory. “And then I remember you pulling away and-“

Before you can ramble any further, callused hands cup your cheeks and soft lips capture your own.

A memory comes to you then, as if Halsins touch alone makes it resurface. You remember what you thought was his rejection, then his confession, then his kind words after.

“I want you to remember this.”

He didn’t reject you. He returns your affections, and has for some time now it seems.

You finally kiss him back, your hands falling to his waist and gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He pulls you closer then, lips moving against yours in a way that screams desperation. He’s been holding back for so long, and so have you.

But not anymore.

Yet he pulls away all too soon, leaving you breathless and wide eyed as you look up at him, still gripping onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if he steps away.

“I don’t think I could have forgotten a kiss like that,” you say, voice soft.

Halsin laughs, a quiet chuckle as his thumb runs soothingly over your cheekbone.

“I will not forget this moment either,” he assures. “But I did not want to risk losing it to the haze of last evening. These things are better enjoyed with a clear mind.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the seriousness of his words. “You’re not wrong in that,” you say, reaching up to trace gentle fingers over the scars on his brow.

Another memory flickers to mind and you smile as you watch Halsins eyes flutter closed, just like they did last night.

“Halsin,” his name is a whisper on your lips.

He smiles, eyes blinking open once more. “Yes, my heart?”

Gods that nickname.

“Can I kiss you?”

He pulls you closer, nose brushing your own. “You never have to ask, little one. My heart is yours.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and you're silently glad he made you wait. Because he was right.

You don’t want to lose a moment with him, either.

[loonylupinblack3]

Drunk Antics

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you find your teammate drunk at a bar and help him out

Warnings: drinking

Word count: 1.7k

You were sitting on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media when a notification caught your eye. Your teammate's name, Lando Norris, was lighting up the screen so naturally you clicked on it, wondering what could have occurred in the few hours you’d last seen him.

You both went out for some drinks, along with some of the Mclaren engineers, but you’d left early and assumed your co-workers had the ability to get home safely themselves. Apparently you’d assumed wrong.

Your eyes widened as videos and pictures of Lando Norris filled your screen, all from the bar you’d left tonight. They consisted of a very drunk Lando dancing and cheering, taking shot after shot and drinking with strangers.

You nearly swore to yourself, sitting upright and looking at the media with more interest. His PR managers were probably going crazy, obviously unable to get into contact with him in this state but worrying actually going there was too inappropriate.

You winced at the outpour of damaging videos and photos. You knew your teammate would regret this in the morning, and you felt bad simply letting this happen. But could you go back to the bar and stop him? You’d only known Lando a few months, what with being a rookie, and though you were friendly with one another you didn’t have an extremely close relationship. Would picking him up from a bar cross an invisible line between you two? Would it be inappropriate?

You couldn’t very well leave him to his foolery though, because even now Lando would be facing a very long and arduous meeting with his PR managers as a best case scenario. If you let this go on, you’d hate to imagine what the worst case scenario could become.

With a sigh you got up, throwing on your jumper and grabbing your keys. Even if you were risking your relationship with Lando, you figured it would be better than letting his career possibly get destroyed. Who knew what he’d do when he was wasted?

You spent the short drive to the bar planning what you were going to say, because even though you’d decided the best course of action was to do this didn’t mean you weren’t nervous about it. When you arrived you parked your car and took a deep breath, feeling jittery, before leaving it and entering the bar.

Immediately there were cheers and loud exclamations, people pointing to you and laughing excitedly. No doubt many of them thought you were there to join the fun, to get as wasted as Lando and give everyone a show. Unfortunately for them you were here to do the responsible thing, and your eyes scanned the club for the other Mclaren driver.

You found him on a table, dancing and twisting, drink in hand and spilling it all over the floor and himself. His shirt was skewed to the side, as if he’d tried to take it off but gave up halfway, showing a great deal of neck and stomach.

Lando Norris had always had a wild streak, but partnered up with alcohol was a whole different story. Even knowing of his sometimes crazed behaviour, you hadn’t expected this. Suddenly your job seemed a whole lot harder than you originally thought.

Taking another deep breath you pushed through the crowd, murmuring excuses and apologies as you made your way to the front of the mob surrounding Lando, or more specifically the table he was on. More people gasped and pointed, their not so subtle whispers travelling around the room.

You ignored all of it, looking up at Lando with a determined expression. “Lando.”

At first he didn’t hear you and continued dancing, much to your embarrassment as the people around you laughed. You frowned and raised your voice, repeating your teammates name.

This time he did hear you, his head whipping around to find you before eventually his gaze found yours. A wide grin split over his face and he stopped his dancing, all attention zeroed on you. You tried not to squirm knowing most of the bars’ attention was on you too.

“Y/n,” he greeted breathlessly.

His drink splashed even more as he clambered down from the table, falling slightly. You gasped and moved forwards, hands on his chest to steady him. Lando’s grin widened. “What are you doing here?”

You couldn’t help but smile back, what with Lando seeming as happy as a puppy to see you. “I’m here to take you home.”

A confused frown made its way onto Lando’s face. “Home? But why?”

You almost laughed at his naivety. Lando was quite cute when he was drunk. “Because you’re kind of wasted, and it would be the smart move to go home.”

Lando’s frown deepened, lines wrinkling his forehead. “But there’s so much more to drink!”

You almost snorted. “Yep. We are definitely going home.”

Lando’s eyes brightened. “We?”

“Well I don’t expect you can get there yourself right now, can you?” you asked teasingly.

Lando smiled ruefully, aware of his intoxication even in his current state. “I guess I can go if you’re taking me.”

You rolled your eyes but something inside you fluttered, spreading warmth across your entire body. You let Lando stumble into you, putting his arm over your shoulder to balance him as you wrapped your arm around his waist. Feeling him flush against your side increased the flutters- you had never been this close to Lando since knowing him- but you ignored it and started walking back to your car with him.

There were a few heckles and disappointed shouts, people wanting you to continue the show not stop it but you ignored it, walking forwards, and Lando obediently followed suit.

You made it out of the club, ignoring the people’s jeers on your way out, and walked to your car. Lando turned and looked at you expectantly.

You raised your eyebrows. “What?”

“Can I have the keys?”

You laughed out loud this time. “No way you are driving.”

Lando pouted- actually pouted- and crossed his arms like a five year old. “Then I’m not getting in the car.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics but were surprisingly not annoyed by it or him. Something about him just made it all amusing, endearing even.

“If you get in the car I’ll take you to my place.”

Lando was already getting in the car before you could blink. You grinned and got into the driver’s seat, that warm fuzzy feeling returning. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with it so you just let it sit there, slowly enveloping you until you couldn’t help but glance at the man sitting next to you every few minutes, eyes tracing his face.

“I’m blind not drunk you know,” Lando said with a shit eating grin.

You started, glancing at him again before back at the road. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen your sneaky glances,” he teased. “You’re soooooo obsessed with me.”

You flushed, letting out an awkward laugh, keeping your eyes trained on the road. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Lando.”

Lando continued on like you hadn’t spoken. “But it’s okay because I'm obsessed with you too. Like, it’s not even funny how much I think about you. You’re a menace, you know that? I mean crawling into my head like that and staying there? Not very polite of you.”

You didn’t even know what to say in response to Lando’s rambling. You were smiling, your cheeks almost hurting from how hard you were but you couldn't stop. Lando just accidentally confessed his feelings for you and, well, it turned out to be a good night.

Lando seemed content to keep talking, though he did stray from the topic of his feelings for you to… whatever was going on in his brain. You were listening to him but even so it was hard to keep track of how fast he hopped from one topic to another, his mind a constant stream of thoughts and whims.

When you got to your house Lando was eager to enter it, waiting by the door leaning on his heels as he watched you walk up the driveway. You smiled at him when you got to the door, unlocking it and letting the two of you enter.

Lando looked around curiously, only stumbling a little bit as he explored your house. You followed him, trailing behind him silently as you watched his expressions, noticing how excited he seemed to be in your house, your space, looking at a side of you he’d never seen before.

“You need to go to bed,” you said, bringing him out of his musings.

Lando looked at you and cocked his head. “Where?”

You paused. “The couch?”

Lando made a face and shook his head. You sighed. “Alright then… the bedroom. I only have one bed.”

Even drunk Lando managed to be concerned. “Would you be okay with that?”

You smiled softly at him, the warm feeling in your chest settling down, getting comfortable. You knew then that it would stay there for a long time. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

You led Lando to your room and helped him get undressed, taking his shirt, shoes, and trousers off, though he kept his boxers on. You got changed yourself- in your bathroom- and exited to find Lando sagging against a wall, looking tired.

“You want to go to bed now?” you asked him.

Lando bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

He seemed to be sobering up, slowly but surely, and you smiled at the repeated consent. “I’m sure.”

So you both got into bed, unexplored ground between you too, and immediately Lando’s arms wrapped around your waist. Definitely still drunk.

Still, you couldn’t help but relax into his hold, your back against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck. And you couldn’t wait for the morning, when he’d sober and you could talk about his confession, maybe even make one of your own.

Until then however, you were content to lie in Lando’s arm and let him nuzzle into your neck, falling asleep to the smell of your teammate’s cologne wrapped around you.