#I’ve tried talking to him about it I’ve tried “being better” I’ve tried… everything I can think of | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 11 months

Text

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

hehe the end

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bambiimutt · 11 months

Text

He makes you cry during an Argument.

Arguments with these boys? What could possibly go wrong..

ೃ࿔*:･

Headcannons and short stories under the cut!

ೃ࿔*:･

TW!! talk of Hoodie stalking, but not major! I think that’s it!!

Jeffrey Hodex:

- you’d think an argument with your boyfriend who loves you oh so dearly would hopefully end in him apologizing. Wanting to make sure he didn’t say anything to you to hurt you.. but you sometimes forget he’s not the normal person.

-Jeff has anger issues and it’s not a surprise to anyone when it’s brought up. So typically with any argument he has, his anger tends to get the better of him.

-which means if the argument is small it’s bound to be blown out of proportion, if it’s a pretty bad argument it’s about to be even worse.

-he doesn’t like to listen. To him he’s always right. He’s never wrong even if deep down he knows he actually fucked up he doesn’t want to admit it because he doesn’t want to look “weak” or too “soft”

-he typically doesn’t feel bad if you end up getting hurt emotionally, you’ll get a good ol scoff and roll of the eyes while he tells you “it’s not that big of a fucking deal, you don’t need to be so emotional.” Along the lines of that.

-but… you might just tug a few heart strings when he realized he’s made you cry. It’s when he sees that he’s scared you that he breaks a little. He’s got a habit of punching walls, breaking shit around the house when you both argue, screaming in your face.. and if it all leads to you finally breaking down and shaking that’s where he finally draws his line.

-he didn’t mean to scare you.. not like that at least. The last thing he wants is for you to be scared of him. He loves you.. even if he shows it in odd ways. He’s an asshole yes but he’s your asshole.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Would you just fucking Listen!” Jeff screamed out. His hands were immediately gripping onto his pants, trying his damned hardest to not punch the closest thing to him. But he can’t help himself the moment you cross your arms and give him that fucking look. “Jeffrey. Cut it out, I’ve listened to you for the past 40 fucking minutes.. you need to listen to me-“ you’re cut off quickly hearing his hand collide with the wall and a loud grunt leaving his lips. He’s slightly heaving, breathing heavily and hair a bit messy in front of his face. You jumped a bit, backing up quickly when he immediately whipped around to trudge towards you, black combat boots making him taller then he already was. His large hand was quick to grab your jaw and squish your cheeks together just slightly. “No you fucking listen to me. Stop being a fucking bitch. Why do you have to pick at everything I fucking do, huh?! Huh?!” If he was a scrawny guy you’d say you’d be able to at least get free but no.. no he was a big guy, tall. Muscular, broad shoulders.. built chest. His biceps twitched slightly as his grip grew harder. There was no way you were escaping this. Not with him. Your small hands pushed at his arm and your eyes watered, a tear falling onto his fingers. Oh.. Jeff’s grip softened as he slowly let go. His form lowering himself so he was at your level. “Oh baby.. oh..” his hands hesitated before cupping your cheeks and his lips are kissing at the corners of your lips, trailing towards your ear. “I didn’t mean it..” his voice is deep, gruff and low in your ear as you immediately wrap your arms around his waist. “I’m sorry..” really it’s the only time you’ll get a sorry out of him, a genuine one at that.

Tobias Rogers

- he’s one of the ones who’s a bit more understanding. He can’t exactly understand physical pain or frustration but he can completely understand emotional pain and anger.. and how fucking awful it can be to handle. So when he’s stood, tall and lanky in front of you, hands swinging in the air and his voice raising he can suddenly feel the room shift to a hurt.. deep cut feeling.

- he tries not to yell he tries to hear you out when you both have an argument, but having BPD can be an issue when it comes to that.. you say one thing in a slight tone and he’s set off. Oh? So this is his fault suddenly? Why did you have to say it like that? You could have said it this way. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?

-when in reality that’s not how you meant it at all.. and yes Toby does feel bad for it afterwards he shouldn’t have lashed out that way, he should have sat and listened and maybe asked why you said it that way.. but sometimes things get the better of us.

-he’s not always the one to apologize afterwards but he does when he knows he really fucked up. He can’t lose you not to something so fucking stupid. “I-I’m sorry.. you didn’t deserve to hear that.. to e-endure any of that..” with a sniffle you look up at him teary eyed. Oh that really hurts. “It’s okay Toby” he’s immediately at your side, hands brushing your hair back and placing gentle kisses to your jaw. It kills him when you cry.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t know Toby I’m just tired..” this is what set him off. The way you said it. You were tired? of this? Of him? Of this relationship? “Are you fucking serious?” He speaks with his teeth clenched together, his head resting in his hands before he’s looking up at your slowly. His body slightly twitches from time to time, though when he was angry it usually became an issue for him, twitching far too often, clearing his throat more aggressively. His tics would normally become more violent in some ways. “Are we just d-done then? That’s it just b-because you’re tired yo-you can’t fucking walk away-“ his arm flys up in the air as he stands, his hands coming to rub at his face and the patch of hair on his chin. His tired droopy eyes dart towards you. You didn’t necessarily start crying because he scared you it was more of the the stress of the situation. “Toby please that’s not what I meant.” He still hasn’t noticed as his tall figure is rambling on, tics making his occasional grip and smack to his leg but he of course can’t feel it. When he finally looks at you he realizes you’ve been crying and it stops. The room becomes quiet and he twitches a few more times before softly kneeling on the floor where you sat. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that.. I’m sorry..” he’s softly laying you down on the floor as his lips trail your neck, his hands placing your arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles against your neck.

-Ben Lawman/drowned

- to be honest he’s probably not the one who started it. He’s usually pretty calm, and quiet…. Except for when he wants to act like a child and become ignorant and downright inappropriate.

-he can be perverted.. gross and this is usually where the arguments start, not that you don’t like him nor the way he acts it’s more when he says things he shouldn’t be saying. So you typically end up yelling at him and he will normally sit embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty.. he didn’t think you’d get so upset.

- on occasion if the argument isn’t about that and about something else he still is usually the one to just take it but there are rare moments where he snaps back. And when he does. Oh boy.

-constant pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sharp glares at you and laughing in disbelief. He’ll sometimes say things he doesn’t mean. He’s usually not one to yell but when he does you aren’t really expecting it. So it scares you.. and the tears finally break.

- ben only stares for a moment. “Shit.” Yeah he fucked up big time. He immediately feels guilty and he immediately rushes towards you to pull you into a tight embrace. He didn’t mean to take it that far.. he really didn’t, knowing it was him who made you cry makes him want to break down himself.

ೃ࿔*:･

“You can hate me yknow, I won’t blame you, or be angry..” Ben mumbled against your hair, your sniffling shattering his dead heart even further. You look up at the blonde, your fingers lacing their way into his hair as you force a bit of a smile “I just.. I hate when we argue like that..” your voice breaks causing Ben to swallow. Oh no. There’s that lump in his throat. His hands rub at your back before feeling his way towards your lower half, squeezing gently. “I know babe. Don’t listen to me when I get like that yeah?” You give a gentle smile as he softly lifts you up, bringing you closer as he grabs his controller, getting ready to play his game and have you relax against him. Occasionally he’ll presses kisses to your forehead. He doesn’t like to talk about the arguments, maybe because he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions and yours at the same time or maybe he’s just scared it’ll lead to another argument, but he apologized like he always does and makes sure your comfy against him while he games. As long as you’re content with it, he’s content.

-Masky/ Tim Wright

- a bit like Jeff I just think he’s a bit more mellow, he won’t ever apologize unless he knows he’s actually in the wrong. Which ends up being majority of the time. You know he has his episodes, where he blacks out and doesn’t remember a lot of the things he ends up doing.

- he will sometimes black out during an argument. It’s not often but when he does it’s like arguing with a brick wall. Like Jeff he won’t listen. He refuses to listen to anything you say because In the moment he’s the one who’s right. But he’ll never go as far to say mean things like Jeff does. No Tim tends to stop himself before he does.

-he storms off frequently. I think he more or so hates the emotions that comes with this. He hates the yelling, the way you look at him with disbelief and anger.. Its more so he doesn’t feel like fucking shit up for being an asshole to someone who genuinely cares about him. So he leaves you to your emotions to figure out, and if they aren’t figured out by the time he gets back he tries his best to help. Even if he does seem annoyed.

- typically your arguments are more him being snarky, sarcastic and being too logical, he can raise his voice from time to time but he’s only ever yelled at you once, and he still beats him self up for it to this day. Seeing you cry at how angry he got, how you still reached out for him in your meltdown caused by him.. and you still reached for him.

ೃ࿔*:･

“They’re pills y/n, prescription pills. I’ll be fine you know I need to take them. Why do I need to keep telling you thi-“ you cut him off quickly your voice already laced with concern as it shook. “Because you take more then you should be taking Tim. I don’t like it I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” he understood where you came from yes but what you needed to do was stop it. Just stop worrying about him. “Please for the love of god, I’m fine! I’m fucking fine! I’ll be fine! Please just stop it. I hate how much you worry and stress yourself over me. They’re fucking pills, I take them when needed. So just stop!” Now he didn’t scream super loud, but it was loud enough for you to feel the lumpy tingly feeling in your throat bubble, your hands softly twisting together “s-sorry..” you squeaked out. Tears brimmed your eyes as your bottom lip quivered. He watched you carefully for a moment, grimacing a bit as he watched your face twist with sadness.. and you slowly making your way towards him. Tim opens his arms and quietly pulls you in, one hand rubbing at the back of your head and the other gripping your back. “I’m an asshole. I know you’re just worried.” He mumbled quietly, lips pressed to your forehead as you hide your face in his chest. “You’re okay..” he continues to mumble, awkwardly trying to find a way to comfort you further.

Hoodie/ Brian Thomas

-he’s quiet. Very quiet. I think he’s the most gentle when it comes to arguments with his S/O. He’s scared to hurt you, always in any circumstances. He’s more observant, he knows when the argument gets too much for you just by a single movement.

-though he does have his moments where he does get angry back, he can normally control his temper. Usually the argument starts by something he’s done so he can handle it, he can deal with it. He tells you “I promise I’ll change, just give me some time” and you believe him because he does change but then he falls back into his habits, leaving for weeks on end, taking too many pills, his stalker tendencies.

-the argument this time is unclear, you probably don’t even remember by the Time Brian starts yelling back at you. His hair is messy from running his hands through it one too many times, he’s clenching his fists and trying to breathe as he shakily keeps his voice down.

-even in moments like this he still thinks of you. Not wanting to hurt you nor scare you.. he just lets you have your outburst and then you both move on. But tonight was different.

-he tends to ignore you when he gets worked up in an argument. If he’s not yelling back then majority of the time he’s just silent. His back towards you. But only when he’s angry right back at you. He’ll give you that silent treatment for hours.

-but this time. He made you cry. And he’s stopped dead in his tracks, eyes softening, getting down on his knees and resting his head against your stomach,his hands holding onto your waist. Sigh… he just had to fuck shit up again didn’t he.

ೃ࿔*:･

“Brian you can’t just leave me for weeks on end.. you can’t just.. disappear then show up like nothings happened. Where do you go..? Is there someone else” at this point he’s just been listening to you, letting you vent out but when you suddenly accuse him of cheating on you.. he snaps. You really think HE would cheat on you?! It’s not like he didn’t spend months watching you, becoming so infatuated with you to the point that it would make anybody so fucking sick to their stomach. But he couldn’t tell you that he couldn’t tell you he’s loved you far longer. So he stands, looks at you with anger in his eyes, a hint of sadness flashing on his face “don’t fucking accuse me of cheating on you.” He points a shaky finger in your face “don’t you ever. You don’t understand the shit I’d do for you, the shit I DO for you.” He’s close now, watching as you look up at him shakily. “This S-still doesn’t explain where you go Brian.. you-“ he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you close “no listen to me. I want to tell you I want to tell you so badly but I can’t. I can’t. I just can’t.” His eyes are averting he’s becoming shaky himself, he’s panicking. Trust him. Is what he wants to tell you, that It’ll all be okay, he’ll be okay in a couple of days, he’ll change just give him time.. but he can’t lie to you.. not now. It would only make shit worse for you in this moment. When he finally looks back at you he sees you staring up at him, not a word spoken but tears streaming down your face, and your wrists still held tight in his large hands. “I..” he softly brings your hand down, lowering himself to the ground as he watches you still stare straight ahead. He scared you. Brian goes silent and lets himself sit on his knees, his hands running up under your shirt to hold onto your waist and burying his head into your stomach. “I’m sorry” he whispered gently, shivering when he feels your hands curl into his hair and finally look down at him. You know he feels guilty. He’s only trying to protect you.

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freedomfireflies · 6 months

Text

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it.

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine.

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door.

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions.

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence.

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say.

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?”

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over.

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out.

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment.

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh.

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.”

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?��

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit.

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one.

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy.

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle.

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment.

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon.

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up.

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow.

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.”

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat.

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further.

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop.

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent.

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot.

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave.

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open.

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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Can I request headcanons for Dick, and Jason reacting to his gn crush asking him as they're so worried (as his hero persona) if he has seen him & described him while not knowing his secret identity?

Jason wanted nothing more than to tell you to go home, that it was not safe for you to be out this late at night and worried half out of your mind.

He just wanted you somewhere he’d knew you would be safe or could get to in quick timing should something ever happen, which was why when you tried calling his -red hood’s- name, he tried to ignore you but found himself unable to hear you cry out in desperation any longer and looked at you silently as you got closer to him.

‘I’m sorry to bother you but Have- have you seen my friend Jason?’ You ask with tears in your eyes.

‘There’s a lot of Jason’s in Gotham sweetheart, you’re going to be more specific.’ He replied and curses himself for how harsh he might’ve came across. He’ll punch himself later for being a dick to you later.

You dig a hand into your pocket and drew out a picture of yourself and him the night before -unknown to you- he was told about tonight’s patrol. Jason has no clue why you had that moment photographed, nothing special happened other then you two hanging out like you usually did, but knew he was one to talk when he had photos of you and him saved on his phone when he was feeling the need to see your face.

‘He’s six two, male, dark hair with a patch of white in the front, beautiful eyes that have specks of a mystical looking green, almost like their glowing half the time- I’m getting off track sorry. It’s- It’s just I’m worried about him as he promised to text me when he got home, but he never did and I’m scared that something has happened to him.’ You reply to the intimidating vigilante who looked as still as a statue.

‘I can’t loose him.’ You continue as tears streak down your face as your mind poisoned itself into thinking that Jason was dead or slowly dying in an alleyway or an abandoned warehouse and you couldn’t get to him and it killed your in ways you couldn’t describe. ‘Please, I know you’ve probably got better things then to search for a mission person but-‘ you pause to catch your breath when you felt as though your chest was being crushed slowly- ‘I don’t know who else to go to for help.’ You finished, biting down on your wobbling lower lip to prevent another sob from escaping as your eyes blur with tears.

Jason, feeling his heart break the second he saw tears, remembered where he was and who he was in that moment and brought a hand out towards you to place awkwardly on your shoulder, giving it a tight reassuring squeeze as he struggled to not admit to everything then and there if it meant soothing your heart. ‘I shall try my best to help you find your friend, until then you should get off the streets and head home, the nightlife of Gotham isn’t for everyone.’

‘What about you?’ You asked him, wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your shirt.

‘I do it so no one else has to.’ Jason or Red Hood replies softly and to wasn’t until now that you felt a sense of familiarity from the vigilante, but waves it off as some sort of projection you were putting on him in place of Jason. Why? Maybe you’d were in need of reassurance from your friend but couldn’t get that when you were unsure as to where he was without feeeing the worse.

So you look for the next best thing who happened to be a vigilante strapped to the nines with artillery, built like a brick shit house, wears a ruby red helmet and most likely six two, pushing six three with his boots.

‘That’s…’

‘Sad? Pathetic? I’ve heard it all-‘

‘Brave.’ You said interrupting him as Jason felt his heart pick up at your appraisal. Your kind words often took him off guard more often than not but it was something he loved about you more than anything. ‘Admirable even but you should look after yourself.’ You added, struggling to form a smile and Jason wanted nothing more then to hold you in his arms and tell you he was okay, but knew that he’d be putting you in more trouble than not if he did such a thing.

‘Can’t promise anything in this line of work I’m afraid,’ Jason said, ‘but I promise to try and find your friend, no matter what.’ He adds and finds himself smiling behind his mask when you gave him the first genuine smile of the night.

‘Thank you red hood, thank you.’ You cried as you lunged towards him and hugged him tightly, a sense of relief flooding your system almost immediately when you were in his arms. Jason on the other hand just wanted the night to end so that he could get out of his attire and sneak over to your apartment, just to show you that he was okay.

‘Don’t sweat it.’ He mutters under his breath, sometimes hating the life he lives if it meant worrying you half to death.

Dick:

‘Nightwing!’

Dick’s head moved fast at the sound of your voice, something he has just noticed himself doing recently, and felt the need to drop everything just to make sure you were okay.

‘That’s my name, hey are you okay? You know you shouldn’t be out here at night. It’s not safe.’ He tells you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

‘I know that but I was looking for my friend.’ You said to him.

‘And who’s your friend, maybe I can help.’ Dick replies, wanting to do anything he could in his power to keep you out of danger however he could. He didn’t want you to do something reckless and end up getting yourself hurt or even killed over it and he wasn’t anywhere near to prevent it from happening.

‘Dick. Dick Grayson.’ You told him and Dick felt his stomach drop. Him, you were looking for him? Why? ‘He hasn’t answered my calls or texts recently and I’ve gotten worried that something might’ve happened.’ You added as you showed him -nightwing- a picture of himself and Hayley from a couple of days ago. He didn’t know you had taken the photo but the way you did made it look like something taken by a professional photographer.

‘And so your best course of action was to take to the streets of a dangerous city filled with criminals and gangs alike in hopes of finding him?’ Dick asked rhetorically.

You shrugged, never having gave your plan any deeper thought since making it to realise how dangerous it might’ve been to wander Gotham at the dead of night, where crime was most likeliest to be committed. ‘That was the idea.’

Dick sighs. ‘No. What you’re going to do now is go home and leave to finding your devilishly handsome friend to me.’

‘But thi-‘ dick placed his hands on your shoulders and flashed you a reassuring smile. ‘I promise to give your friend a right good scolding for ignoring your texts and calls and to not worry you so often…just let me take it from here, okay?’

You look at nightwing and found yourself trusting this man more than you’d ever have trusted anyone else in your life and sighing. ‘Okay…I just didn’t want to bother you-‘

‘And you’re not bothering me, not at all.’ Dick reassured as he rubs your shoulders in a way that felt weirdly intimate between strangers whom have never met before. ‘I know Gotham like the back of my hand. So I’ll be able to narrow down the places where your friend might be and have him at your doorstep by morning. I promise.’ He finishes lowly as he stares you deeply in your eyes.

‘Okay. I shall leave it to you.’ You told him and dick felt relief in knowing that you were going to be safe and away from all harm. He hated that he was the reason you’d risk doing something such as searching Gotham for him at the dead of night, but he’d rather have you safe then do something risky.

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strnlio · 3 months

Note

Can you write about matt being your first boyfriend ever so you're always worrying and nervous around him and him comforting you?

NERVOUS ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

SUMMARY: matt comforts you after you admit to being nervous as he’s your first bf

WARNINGS: none just some fluff !!!!

a/n: i haven’t proofread this yet lmao😭 english isnt my first language so don’t mind any spelling errors i’ve made😭 sorry this took so long hope u like it anon!!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

you had never been in a relationship before. its not like you didn’t want to; you’d see your friends talk about their partners and feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach. sure you’d had situationships, but nothing close to an actual boyfriend. you didn’t want anything meaningless, or to be with anyone just for the sake of it. you wanted genuine attraction, like how they portray in movies, even if it meant you had to wait for years before you found the right one.

this was all before you met him. his name was matt. matt was different, different than all the boys you had ever had liked. you had been introduced by some mutual friends, and you quickly formed a close bond with him and his brothers. you loved hanging out with them, whether it was impromptu lunches, drive-through car dinners, gaming over the computer or karaoke nights.

chris and nick were great, but it was different with matt- anytime you talked to him you felt nervous, butterflies swarmed in your stomach and your cheeks felt hot. you’d catch yourself smiling like an idiot everytime he talked in that silly high pitched voice, laughing at his lame jokes and grinning like an idiot as you talked with him over the phone for hours on end.

guess he felt the same way, because he asked you out a fine tuesday evening. the first date led to another one- and a handful more before he officially asked you to be his girlfriend.

you were excited. this was something new, something you had yearned for, wanted for so long; and now you had it. however, there was a feeling of uncertainty bubbling through your chest everytime you thought about this. you had never been someone’s girlfriend before- you were inexperienced at this. you didn’t want to mess things up- especially with matt. everything was going perfectly and you were terrified of ruining it all.

the other day matt had texted you that he would be picking you up for a lunch date. you were excited, you got ready and waited for him outside your appointment. his black van pulled into your driveway and you got into the car, glancing at him. god he looked so pretty.

his brown hair looked extra fluffy today, resting on top of his forehead. his blue eyes looked like crystals in the sunlight, like glistening waves in the ocean. his face broke into a happy smile as he saw you come in, his lips were a perfect hue of pink- they looked so kissable.

theres was nothing more you wanted than to cup his soft cheeks and place a kiss on his lips. obviously you had kissed before, but you were never the one to initiate the kiss, it was always matt. his eyes flicked down to your lips and a wave of anxiety hit you- does he want me to kiss him? what if he doesn’t? what if my brain is making it all up?

negative thoughts filled your brain as you looked away from him. he let out a sigh as he started the car. he tried to make conversation- but you just kept giving short abrupt answers, overthinking every word. eventually he gave up as the car was filled awkward silence while frank ocean played in the background .

all your dates with matt before were romantic but casual- it was more of two friends hanging out and talking. now there was this label of ‘boyfriend- girlfriend’ you were scared because you felt like you had an obligation to be the ‘ideal’ girlfriend.

as you sat in the restaurant, you both talked and you felt a little more calmer than before. matts sweet laughter and light blue eyes peering into yours made it much better. that was until you noticed his hand inch closer to yours from across the table.

you felt your heartbeat go faster as you stared at your own hand wondering if you should move it to meet his or not. what if hes doing it subconsciously? what if he doesn’t want to hold my hand? what if he gets uncomfortable if i do so? all you wished for was the voices in your head to stop talking.

with much contemplation you decided against it as you took your hand off the table and folded your arms while attempting to continue your conversation.

matt noticed. he noticed your unusual silence, lack of eye contact. he was an observer, and it was weird to see your usual talkative this closed off. assuming you had a bad day, he decided to ask you about it when they reached the triplets house.

“hey,” he said stopping in front of her abruptly, looking into her eyes, “is everything all right?” your face scrunched up in confusion replying, “what do you mean?”

“its just…. you’ve been so quiet today. its not like you so… did anything happen? did i say something?” he asked letting out a soft sigh and putting his hands over your shoulders. “you know you can talk to me right?”

you broke eye contact as you stared at the floor. “oh matt- its not you. its just …. i dont know its quite stupid really” he brought up one of his hands towards your chin and tilted it upwards, so that you both held eye contact again. “tell me,” he whispered. his low voice and icy blue eyes staring into yours sent shivers down your spine.

“i don’t know. i just… you’re my first boyfriend and i just…. get nervous around you. i don’t want to mess this up i don’t want to mess us up. i feel like i’m so unexperienced that i’m going to do some stupid shit and ruin it all. and i don’t want this to end… ever. so… this is just kind of scary ,” you confessed.

“heyyy- come here,” he said, his eyes softening. he took your arms and slung them over his shoulders while wrapping his around your waist as he pulled you in for a hug. you rested your head on his shoulder, a feeling comfort spreading throughout your body as he held you in his arms. you stayed like this, holding each other in a tight embrace for a few seconds. matt broke the hug, his hands still on your waist, caressing your exposed skin slightly.

“i understand. but you dont have to be nervous- not around me. you’re doing so good and you’re already a great girlfriend. god i like you so much- nothing you do will ever piss me off ever. i know its scary… but try not to think about that alright? if i’m taking things too fast you can talk to me sweetheart,” he said while studying your face with his eyes. “can i kiss you?” he whispered, his eyes now looking at your lips.

you grinned as you both leant in and your lips connected. you pressed your body against his as your soft lips moved against his. you felt goosebumps cover every inch of your skin and butterflies in your stomach. god you were so grateful for someone like him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

a/n: i always rush the endings because idk how to end ts properly sorry 😭😭✊ lowkey hate thjs but whtev next one will b better trust

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff

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dovveri · 4 months

Text

ordinarily

synopsis: you’re having a few issues with your sex life so you decide to start seeing a sex therapist with your boyfriend

warnings: reader receiving, cheating, lots of sex talk bcs this entire fic is literally set around sex, fingering, clitoral stimulus, vibrators, dildos + strap on, sana watches reader masturbate

w/c: 7.8k

a/n: if u didn't know im a psych student and this idea came to me at 3am while cramming sexual dysfunctions for my finals and i ltr wrote this in a few hours bcs i was OBSESSED - that being said this is all still fictional bcs... let's be honest i js wanted to have sex with dr sana but some of the facts are still real! the treatment however... not so real LMAO

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“ms. l/n?”

“yes!” you scramble upwards at the sound of your name, pulling your boyfriend up with you and walking briskly towards the woman who’s called you. she offers a kind smile, gesturing for you to follow her.

“is it alright if i bring my boyfriend along?”

she nods, “yes that’s fine. it’s actually customary that both partners are here for appointments like these.”

she leads you towards her office, a clean, organised room with a small couch next to the doctor’s table and chair, and what looks like an upgraded version of a classic examination table.

she seats you both and rolls her chair forward so she’s facing the both of you when she talks. “so how can i help you today ms. l/n?” her eyes are kind, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“u-um just y/n is fine dr. …” you glance to her badge, “minatozaki.”

“alright y/n. sana is fine for me too then.” she smiles.

“r-right sana. so we’ve just been having some trouble with our- um- sex life recently and i think it’s mainly my fault.”

she frowns a little, picking up a notepad on her table to jot down some things, “why would you think that?”

“um well- i- i haven’t um- i’ve never had a penis in me before. my previous male partners would only ever use their hands or mouth but because we were getting a little more serious than that, i wanted to let ben-“ you glance at your boyfriend who looks a little uncomfortable, shifting around in his seat a little, “be the first and we’ve tried for a while now but it’s always just too painful? and i know everyone says the pain passes and whatever but it never seems to pass for me…” you blush, getting progressively embarrassed as you go on.

"i see. do you mind if i ask you a few questions about your sex life?"

you nod, feeling intimidated by the things she's jotting down into her notepad.

"how long has this been going on?"

"umm- i'd say we've tried to have penetrative sex for about 2 months now?"

"have you ever experienced anything like this before?"

"no."

"do you have any history of previous mental health problems?"

"not really, no."

"when you attempt to have sex, do you engage in foreplay?"

"u-um... yes."

"and are you able to secrete natural lubricant from that?"

ben lets out an undignifed snort. you elbow him, face burning red when sana looks up from her notepad, narrowing her eyes at ben who shrinks in his seat, covering his mouth.

"u-um yes i think so."

"ben? is this true?" sana's eyes are locked on ben.

"sorry doc are you asking me if my girlfriend gets wet?"

"for lack of better words yes."

"well yes she gets plenty wet. i always make sure she's turned on before i go in. if you’re asking about if i'm good at sex then yes. i am. plenty of girls in the past have cum because of me."

"i didn't ask that but thank you for your contribution." sana says a little sarcastically, looking back towards you and then down to her notepad. you elbow ben again in response who glances at you slightly annoyed, the tips of his ears red.

"what sorts of foreplay activity do you engage in, does it arouse you, and on average how long would you say your foreplay would go on for?"

"i- um- i-"

"this is a safe space. everything i'm asking is purely for diagnosis reasons, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about, i deal with lots of clients everyday who come in and have talked about much more bizarre things and none of them are nearly as attractive as you are which makes it a lot worse when someone comes in here claiming they have sexual proclivities towards aliens or otherworldly beings."

you blush, the throwaway compliment in there didn't fly past you. "do people really ask about that?"

sana chuckles a little, "oh you'd be surprised the things people come in here about."

you laugh a little in response as well, feeling more comfortable around the doctor, "um well i guess we do all the normal stuff. kissing, whatever, um it usually lasts about... 10 minutes?" you turn to ben who shakes his head a little so you correct yourself, "20 minutes maybe. and um yeah i guess it does arouse me."

sana hums, making a few more notes, "are your nipples sensitive? your breasts? does he play with them? what about your clitoris?"

"i- um- yes... to all of those."

"have you ever orgasmed before?"

"i- yes."

she senses the hesitation in your voice, looking up curiously, "have you orgasmed during sexual relations with ben?"

you shuffle in your seat a little uncomfortably. ben looks at you expectedly, but you can't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"yes. yes she has." ben replies for you instead when he realises you're not responding.

sana's eyes cut to his with a scowl forming on her face, "did you know only 64.4% of women are able to reach their orgasm during sex? and that number is even lower when the sex is just penetrative? in comparison, 91.3% of men reach their orgasm, in fact, sexual dysfunction in men is actually more common when men orgasm too fast."

ben raises an eyebrow defiantly, "your point doc?"

"that it's normal for women not to reach orgasm. and normal for them to fake it when their boyfriends are pretentious assholes that think they have the best game in the world but in reality, have inflated egos that would easily be shattered if he found out he wasn't as good as he thought he was. most of these women care too much about hurting their partner's feelings than to tell the truth."

ben leans forward aggressively, ignoring your protests for him to sit back down, "i don't know what kinda whack patients you got in here doc but i'm not one of them. i don't need anyone to worry about my feelings like you women do."

sana rolls her eyes, not backing down from his intimidation, "do you have any problems with sexual activity? come too fast? not able to get it up? not able to come?"

ben sputters, "w-what?! who do you think i am?!"

"it's a yes or no question."

"no! i don't have any of those problems! i told you i'm not one of your weird patients!"

"alright that's all we'll be needing from you today. i think this session will be much more productive for y/n if you leave the room. so if you'd please-" she stands up and opens the door, indicating for him to leave.

"what? you can't just kick me out! this is my girlfriend! i'm just as involved in this as she is!"

"actually, since you haven't admitted to having any problems with sex, and you've both said that foreplay and arousal is adequate, there's nothing more that involves you. so yes, i can kick you out."

ben looks back at you, his face red, but you push him forward, "just go ben don't make a scene. i'll see you outside." he frowns, sending a final glare to sana before stomping out the room.

sana closes the door softly after him, settling back down with a sigh.

"i'm so sorry about him i didn't know he would react like that i-"

"it's okay y/n. this is actually quite common. sexual dysfunction is often severely underreported in men, because of the masculine standards they put themselves up to, lots of them won't seek treatment. that's why most of the clients we get are women who come in here with their boyfriends, and a lot of the time these boyfriends don't think they have anything to do with the women's sexual dysfunction, and a lot of them can't accept that they do."

"but you just said-"

"i know what i said. and it's true that if your foreplay is indeed enough and arousing for you, and that this isn't because of any sexual dysfunction he may have, then it no longer directly regards him. however, just because it doesn't directly involve him, doesn't mean it's got absolutely nothing to do with him. i do think i have an idea of what you're going through, but to confirm i'd like to ask a couple more questions if that's okay with you? and hopefully you can be fully honest with me now that ben isn't here."

you shuffle in your seat a little. "yeah of course."

she smiles, going back to her notepad, "so backtracking a bit, i'm assuming ben hasn't been able to make you orgasm?"

you blush, shaking your head.

"how about with previous partners? is there anything they've done that's helped you reach that orgasm or are there any similarities you can think about between them?"

"mm well for one, i've only ever been able to come when i'm with women."

"oh?" sana looks up again over her specs, a twinkle in her eye.

"u-um yeah and with them it's mostly um, using their hands or oral, and even then i normally need at least some clitoral stimulation to come. i have tried using dildos before but i also find it a little too painful, but i'm at least able to bear it when it's with a woman, with ben i kinda just push him off because it's all too much."

"i see. that's quite normal. most women do require clitoral stimulation to be able to orgasm. a very small proportion of women are actually able to come from penetration alone. do you masturbate?"

you blush again, fiddling with your fingers, but her friendly smile reassures you, "yes. well- less since i've been with ben because he doesn't really like it when he finds out i've touched myself. he gets a little offended and always says i don't need to masturbate when i have him. he takes offense because he thinks i'm doing it since he's not doing a good enough job or something."

"hmm." she hums, jotting something else down, "is he doing a good enough job? i know you said foreplay was fine but i just wanted to check in on that again."

"he's alright i guess. like most men i've been with in the past he does kinda rush things a little, and he does do foreplay it's just a little rougher than i like sometimes. i also think um-" you blush, eyes flickering around the room.

"mm?" sana smiles gently again, encouraging you.

"i think he has trouble finding my clit? or i don't know he always kinda fumbles around when he fingers me so his hands always brush against my clit a little too rough and then he presses down on parts where he thinks it is and asks me if it feels good."

sana hums again, writing down some more notes before the next question. "so back to masturbation, before ben, how often would you say you masturbated?"

"oh u-um, maybe like once a month?"

"and you're able to make yourself come?"

"sometimes. sometimes it just gets too tiring and i end up just falling asleep."

"i see." sana writes a few finishing notes and then places her notepad on the table. "so from what you've told me today, it would seem like you have something called genito-pelvic pain or penetration disorder. normally this sort of behaviour has to go on for at least 6 months before it is diagnosable, but even though it’s only been two months for you, we can still work on ways to improve your symptoms. so there's nothing physically wrong with you or your body, this is more of a cognitive response to a fear of pain from penetration. what happens is because of this fear, you're vaginal muscles tighten when you're about to have sex, they're trying to protect you from this invasive thing that's going to enter your body and that it thinks will cause you a lot of pain. this is why it's so much more painful when someone does penetrate you, because you're muscles are already working actively to try and push it out, they only get tighter and tighter making sex more painful for you. this kinda creates this cycle of fear because it does hurt when you have sex, so the next time it happens, your muscles learn to anticipate this pain and try to close you off from this external invasion. does that kinda make sense?"

you nod a little hazily, the words floating around in your head.

"it's a good thing that you're still able to take penetration though. in some extreme cases women's vaginas have been sealed so tight penis penetration is impossible. now there aren't any medications for this unfortunately, but the main treatment is to unlearn this fear that's maintaining the disorder, and eventually you'll be able to engage in sex that is enjoyable for you again."

"how would i unlearn that?"

"well first of all, masturbation helps. a lot. you say you were only really doing it once a month in the past but actually, masturbating weekly or even twice a week is perfectly normal. and i know you said your boyfriend doesn't really like it but... well it's your body right? if he can't make you feel good then you need to start learning how to make yourself feel good. you need to start turning sex into a positive experience again. later down the line, that also means a lot more foreplay than what you're currently doing. i'm talking like an hour at least. using lube as well will be extremely useful, even if you are wet, it always helps to be fully prepared for that first penetration. i know this all sounds like a lot right now so we'll start slow. would you mind getting up on the examination table and taking off your pants and underwear. i'd like to examine your pelvic muscles a little more closely."

you nod, shuffling onto your feet and beginning to strip out of your clothes. sana pays you no mind, grabbing a new pair of gloves and slipping them on. you figure sana has done this plenty of times in the past, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. well... aside from the fact that sana was really pretty and her really pretty hands were about to be touching you and-

she's turning back around when you lay on the examination table, hands crossed on your stomach, fiddling with your fingers. you avoid her gaze but catch the way her eyes linger a little on your legs. she moves closer towards you, you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, feeling the tips of your ears go red at the attention.

she giggles a little and you're confused, "y/n you have to open your legs for me to be able to see anything."

"oh right i- um-" you shyly spread your legs apart, revealing your cleanly shaven lips.

sana squeezes something into her hand, "this is just lube. to see your pelvic muscles in action means i'll have to part your walls so i'm just lubricating them to make it a little more comfortable for you." she looks up at you, waiting for your consent, and when you nod, she gets straight to work.

you gasp at the cold feeling of the lubricant running down your folds, wiggling a little. then, sana's hands come in and start massaging the lube along your folds, spreading it so it covers the entire surface area of your core, fingers gentle as she spreads the liquid. your breath catches a little when she bypasses your clit, squeezing your hands together, and trying your best to not make any inappropriate sounds while in your doctor's office.

you sneak a glance down at her, watching the way she has her lip caught between her teeth while she focuses, eyes glued to your folds. she spreads your lips and starts applying the lube on your inner folds as well, meticulous with her work, making sure no slice of skin was missed.

"i'm going to start prodding around your entrance now alright?"

you can only choke out a hum in response, not trusting your voice to give away the fact that this was turning you on very much.

one of her fingers glides down to your entrance, her other hand still holding your lips open, and she starts to poke gently at your entrance, you can feel when a short fingernail dips in just slightly, wiggling around a little to try and loosen you up. at this point you're kinda glad sana went with the lube because it meant she couldn't tell she was actually getting you spectacularly wet on her own, your own slick mixing with the lube she's spread all over.

she starts pushing a finger in very slowly, but you cringe a little and shuffle your hips when she's about a knuckle in. she pulls out gently, "hurts?"

you nod, "a little."

she starts pressing gently against your folds again, "i'm just going to try massage your folds from the outside, hopefully it'll get your muscles to relax a little with some stimulation."

it is relaxing, the way she's gently pressing into you, it’s certainly never like anything you’ve felt before, it turns you on, but also eases you, it’s a combination you’ve never experienced.

when she gently runs a finger over the hood of your clit your hips jerk and you gasp.

“sorry! too much?” sana backs away quickly, hands raised so you can see she’s no longer touching you.

you inhale, forcing yourself to look at her, your gaze a little blurry, eyes lidded, “n-no. that was- g-good actually.” your voice is a lot scratchier than it was, you can’t believe how turned on you are from just minutes of being with her. “a-actually would it- um- are you allowed to take your gloves off? like if you want to! you don’t have to if you think it’s gross or anything i just think it could help a little so you can feel exactly where your skin and nails touch me.”

sana raises an eyebrow, seeming to consider you, and you want to crawl back into your pants, run away and never see be seen in public again the longer she takes to regard you.

but then wordlessly, she takes her gloves off, flicking them into the bin and reaching for the bottle of lube.

“oh um- you don’t have to. i’m wet enough i think.”

sana smirks then, squeezing some into her palm, “oh sweetie i know. remember what i said about lubing up anyway though? there can never be too much lube.”

you blush at the pet name, gritting your teeth when you feel the cool liquid and the soft touch of her fingers again. except this time it’s so much more real, you can feel every single brush, every stroke, every movement of her fingers against you. when she brushes against your clit again, you can’t help the faint moan you let out. your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you feel her still her movements against you. “s-sorry i-“

“it’s okay. you can make as many sounds as you want. just relax. stop thinking sweetie.” she brushes over your clit again, with a little more purpose this time, and you let out another whimper, trying to stop your hips from grinding against her hand.

the next few minutes are torturous. you're biting back moans every 2 seconds, focusing on keeping your hips solidly on the examination table, hands clenched tight together, you’re so wet you can hear the way she's sliding through your folds much more easily now, able to insert the entire length of her fingernail in with each stroke downwards. your breathing has gotten observably heavier, each inhale and exhale is strained, and you certainly couldn’t look at sana anymore, eyes glazed, just trying to focus on not giving yourself away.

"i’m gonna try go in again now okay?"

you nod, a little desperately, closing your eyes to block out the sight of her between your legs.

she gently prods at your entrance, now able to slide a knuckle in fairly easily, you feel like jelly around her, unable to control your own movements when you jolt downwards, sucking in more of her finger and moaning at the feeling.

“alright?”

“mhm just- just do it.”

“do what sweetie?”

“just- you know-“

“hmm?” she slips a little further in, and you clench around her, your muscles trying to trap her inside of you.

“f-fuck- i- yeah- fuck-“

she giggles a little and you flush, you realise again that she’s very attractive and very good with her hands and those hands are now inching even deeper into you, and before you know it, she’s got her entire finger buried inside of you.

you’re breathless at the feeling.

“painful at all?”

“n-no. not at all. feels- um- g-good.”

you can hear the smirk in her voice when she teases, “you feel good.”

you clench around her at the praise, unaware that sana’s trying her very best to stay as professional as possible, despite wanting so badly to rid you of all your clothes and fuck you until you were moulded to only be able to take her.

“relax baby. i’m going to slide back out now okay?”

you whine when you feel her retreating slowly, your walls gripping her finger, urging her to stay inside. but she comes out until just the tip of her finger is in you, and then pushes in again, filling you up deliciously.

you exhale deeply, back arching at the feeling.

“good?”

“fuck- so fucking good oh god-“

she’s pulling out and pushing in again, slow and careful, watching your body for any signs of pain and fixed on the way your face contorts in pleasure at the feeling of being sexually satisfied for the first time in months.

“think you can take another?” you peek open your eyes to find that sana looks slightly more dishevelled than before, her breathing also a little irregular now, her voice low with lust. you gulp at the sight.

“y-yeah.”

now that you've caught a glimpse of her, you can't look away, your eyes tracing the way her gaze is a little clouded, her tongue peaking out to wet her lips. then she's pushing in again with a second finger, rubbing your clit lightly with her other hand and pressing down onto the external parts of your folds to get you to loosen up.

you suck her in easily, whimpering a little when she stops and looks up at you in concern.

"k-keep going p-please- i can take it- fuck-"

so she continues her journey, pressing in deeper, and deeper, until she's able to fit two fingers snugly inside of you. you moan when she fills you up, pulsing around her, muttering curses and hands moving to hold onto the sides of the examination table.

but then, sana's pulling out again, and this time she doesn't come back. she clears her throat, moving towards the sink in her office to wash herself up.

you clamber onto your elbows hazily, completely soaked and watch in confusion as she dries her hands, her cheeks flushed.

"i think that's enough for today y/n. you can use the sink and this towel here to clean yourself up and get dressed. i'll wait for you outside." she doesn't spare you another glance and slips outside the room, closing it behind her to give you some privacy.

you take a second to recover because what the fuck just happened? you can only follow her instructions dumbly, picking up the towel she's left for you and cleaning yourself up, still incredibly sensitive when you twitch with each swipe along your folds. you put your clothes back on and rearrange your hair so that it doesn't look like you were just about to come mere minutes ago.

once you're tidied up and you've cleared your mind, or at least pushed all the lustful thoughts about being fucked into the table aside, you step outside the office, looking around to find that sana's with ben at the front desk, talking to the receptionist.

you clear your throat to announce your presence when you walk up to them. ben seems to have calmed down and he kisses your cheek sweetly when you sidle up next to him. you take note of the way sana eyes the action, her grip on the pen getting just a little tighter.

"alright y/n. i talked with ben to get an idea of your availability so i hope it's okay that i've booked you in for another session in about 2 weeks."

"yes that's fine!" your voice comes out unintentionally higher than you meant it to. the nerves and confusion hitting you at once.

"and i'll also set you a little homework. like we talked about, masturbation is key to getting better. so here's a self-care kit, it's got a clitoral vibrator and a few different dildo sizes as well as a couple of bottles of lube. i want you to try using the vibrator first, get used to the feeling of orgasming, and then start to bring in the smallest dildo. ben can watch if you want him to or help, but just remember what i said about making sex a positive experience. that's the main purpose of all of this, just relearning that sex is good and that it’s meant to be fun and enjoyable. i'll check with you in 2 weeks how the progress is going and we'll go from there. any questions?"

the entire time she talks to you, she barely looks into your eyes, it's clear she's already discussed all of this with ben who looks more than happy to be a bystander to your sexual pleasure if it meant he would be able to have sex with you later on. you find yourself a little disappointed that she won't acknowledge you. you shake your head no, and she slides you a few forms and the self-care package she mentioned, discreetly wrapped and in a cute little takeaway bag.

"great i'll see you in two weeks y/n. if you'll excuse me now." she sidesteps you and walks briskly back into her office, your eyes trail after her, but you shake the feelings from your head, refocusing on the present and the way ben has his arm wrapped around you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it's a fortnight later and you're sitting in a familiar waiting room, this time without ben because you convinced him to stay behind after his retaliatory actions the last time he was here. maybe you also just wanted to see sana alone but you weren't going to tell him that.

if you were being honest, sana hasn't left your mind once since you left the clinic two weeks ago. even when you were completing her assigned homework tasks, it wasn't broad muscles and rugged facial hair that you were thinking of, no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts always drifted back to the way sana had handled you so carefully, the way her fingers felt inside you, how she paid attention to every single reaction you made, every small sound, twitch, how attentive she was. and sometimes your thoughts drifted into territory that was a little more imaginative. those usually consisted of sana using the various toys she'd given you to bring you to heights you weren't able to bring yourself to.

"y/n?"

your head snaps up at the voice. you beam seeing her, she has her hair up today, pretty earrings and perfect features accentuated. she smiles in response at you, gesturing you to follow her to her office.

you settle into the familiar office again, much more relaxed and excited than the last time you were here.

"i see you're looking a lot more chipper than 2 weeks ago." sana comments with a smile, grabbing her notepad that you recognise from last week.

"just happy to see you again."

her smile fades a little at that, but you don't let that discourage you.

"right... so tell me how your fortnight has been. have you attempted to have sex with your boyfriend again? uh... bryson was it? or brendan?"

"ben. and no we haven't had sex again. i also took your advice and let masturbation be just a personal experience. he asked to watch and help but i told him it would be better if he didn't."

"that's good to hear. how has the masturbation been?"

"great! you were right! i've forgotten what having sex just for the sake of doing it for myself felt like. i've spent so long thinking i enjoyed it when i was really just an item for my partner's satisfaction. in a sense that brought me joy as well, being able to provide a source of happiness for them, but i realised that that's not a healthy thing to keep doing."

sana smiles genuinely, "very good y/n. i'm glad that masturbation has helped you realised that. how about your vaginal muscles? did you try using the dildos in the self care package?"

"um- yes i did but- i was actually hoping- uh-"

"hmm? what is it?"

"well i still haven't really been able to cum from using the dildos, only from the vibrator. it's not as painful anymore to put them in, and i'm still working up the sizes, but it still doesn't really feel good? like it just feels like there's something in me, it doesn't really derive pleasure or anything like that."

sana hums, thinking a little, writing down a few notes before closing her notepad. "would you show me?"

"i- um- sorry what?"

"how you've been masturbating. it may be something with the technique, but if it's something else more serious, i'd need to know about it."

"oh! yeah of course." you stumble upwards, repeating your movements from 2 weeks ago, stripping of your clothes, except this time, you take your top off as well.

sana yelps and turns around at your abrupt show of skin.

"something wrong sana?"

"oh- um- no nothing i just thought- um- i didn't think there was reason for your top to be off as well-"

"you wanted to see how i touched myself right? i generally try and stimulate my tits as well since my nipples are quite sensitive."

"right... yes of course." she turns around again, avoiding your gaze and looking to the floor, waiting for you to get on the examination table.

your lips quirk a little at how shy she's being, "is something the matter sana? you see naked bodies all the time in this line of work don't you? and you pretty much saw me naked last time as well..."

sana blushes even brighter, "um- well- yes but- most of my patients tend to be middle aged and they certainly aren't as attractive as you are."

"you think i'm attractive?" you're laid on the examination table now, head turned to the side so you can watch as the doctor fumbles where she's seated, still not looking at you.

"i- um- well- forgive me- i'm trying really hard to be professional right now and-"

"is that why you left in such a hurry during our last session?" you start trailing your hands over yourself, finding yourself easily aroused in the presence of the other woman.

"oh- um- well- yes i- i didn't want to make you uncomfortable-"

you moan gently when a practiced hand glides up to squeeze softly at a tit, the other sliding down slowly towards your centre. "you could never make me uncomfortable sana. well actually... i was only really uncomfortable when you left me so empty last time. i couldn't wait to go home and try out the toys you gave me, i haven't felt so turned on in so long and i needed to get that out of my system as soon as i could." you're trying to get a rise out of her, but everything you're saying is the truth anyway.

sana's eyes are on you now, wide and a little shocked at the words coming out of your mouth, and you revel in the way that meant her eyes now travelled your body. you try and angle yourself so she can see the way you squeeze at your breast, brushing over a nipple lightly with your palm and watching it pebble in reaction, your other hand dipping down to trace along your folds, finding that you're already dripping, the fact that the object of your sexual desires for the last 2 weeks is now only inches away from you, watching you touch yourself, driving you further off the edge of sanity.

"y/n..." sana's voice comes out almost 2 octaves lower than her usual register. you catch the way she wets her lips and crosses her legs.

"i'm so wet already i don't even need lube. and i know you kept saying to use it no matter what and trust me i did when i got myself off at home, but right now, just look-" you bring your hand up from between your legs, making an obscene display of licking your fingers and sucking on them, making sure she could see the arousal that coated your fingers.

sana's jaw tightens at the sight, she shuffles a little in her seat, unconsciously moving closer towards you.

"you don't have to worry about being unprofessional sana. i promise i want this just as much as you do right now." you slide your hand back down yourself, finding your clit easily after the practice you've gotten over the last fortnight, and rubbing circles around it.

"bold of you to assume i want this. this is my job after all." you leak at the register in her voice, it's something you've only been able to imagine in your fantasies.

"you don't want me?" you pout a little, turning onto your side so your entire body is facing her, your arm pushing your breasts together while a finger tugs gently on a nipple, your other hand still rubbing fast little circles into your clit.

sana chuckles darkly, her eyes closing, she seems to be trying to force herself to keep still.

"because just to be clear... i've thought about how you touched me every single time i came these past two weeks." your breath hitches when you recall the way you'd vigorously rub one out to her, sometimes multiple times a day ever since you started masturbating again. "i- oh fuck- no one has gotten me that turned on in such a short amount of time ever- nng- and i'd think about the way you felt inside me, and how careful and gentle you were- fuck- and then i'd think about how rough you could get as well- oh- and how i'd try and be so good for you- can you- can you pass me the dildo? i think i can slide the smallest one in now-"

she gets up from her seat wordlessly, exuding a dark aura that makes you clench your thighs in anticipation. she moves towards your bag, digging for the package and pulling it out, taking the smallest dildo and then moving back towards you. her pupils are blown, hungrily drinking you in, your fingers speed up just a little at the attention.

you reach out a hand mid-moan, asking for her to pass you the toy.

but she clicks her tongue, pushing your hand away gently and lubing up the toy herself.

you gulp, turning so you're laid flat on your back again, spreading your legs so she can see just how wet you were.

her eyes meet yours briefly, and you adore the way she checks in and makes sure you're okay with this, and you nod, giving her permission before she's sliding the dildo into you.

"oh shit-"

sana hums, pushing the little gold dildo in further, transfixed on the way your fingers move just a little rougher around your clit with every centimetre.

when she's completely inside you moan, clenching around the dildo, it was a comfortable size inside you.

"any pain?" her voice is rough, laced with barely concealed lust.

you whine, "n-no- you can move."

she starts pulling out, and it is almost painful the threat of being empty leaving you desperate, grinding down to try and keep her inside you, but she pushes back in, just a second faster this time and you moan unabashedly.

"f-fuck-" she starts up a rhythm, pulling out of you, then pushing back in, each time a second faster than the last.

you rub your clit, faster, harder, pulling on your nipple, switching to the other one to make sure both were attended to, you've never been built up this quickly. even when you were masturbating you had taken her advice and teased yourself for at least an hour before you got anywhere close to cumming.

you crave her, eyes lidded watching the way the veins in her arms become a little more visible when she thrusts in a little harder. you can hear the examination table shaking under you, you can't keep still at all, trying to meet her on each thrust, the tools and materials clattering about loudly. the possibility that someone could hear you outside flies across your mind but you can barely give it a second thought, in fact, it turns you on even more knowing that you were getting fucked by the most gorgeous doctor that you've been obsessed with the last fortnight, and on the other side of the door everyone was just going about their regular days, having no idea the heights of pleasure she was bringing you to.

"o-oh s-sana oh my god- holy fuck-"

"hmm? good?"

"yes yes so good- oh my god you feel so good inside me i'm gonna- oh fuck-"

"do you mind if i..."

you look down at her, vision a little blurry but you can tell she's asking to do something, "yes yes oh god- whatever- you can do whatever you want to me- oh fuck-"

you feel a soft hand come to rest on your stomach, sliding down to just a little below your belly button, and then it presses down just gently, "oh fuck!" your hips jolt upwards, pleasure running up your spine.

sana stops the pressure but keeps her hand on your lower stomach, "was that okay?"

"god yes- oh sana you're gonna make me cum please-"

so she presses down again, a little harder this time, and you feel the coil in you snap, white enroaching your vision, your thighs shaking, head tilted back, a high-pitched gasp leaving your mouth, feeling completely breathless.

sana waits for you to come down patiently, helping you through your orgasm, continuing her thrusts into your cunt but slower and much gentler.

eventually, you feel your back and hips meet the surface of the examination table under you again, breathing heavily and opening your eyes slowly.

sana's moved next to you, brushing strands of hair out of your face, you preen into her touch. but the next thing she does has you clenching tightly around the dildo that's still inside you. she brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in and making a show of wrapping her tongue around them. "exquisite."

you blush, clenching your thighs together at the sight.

she gives you a slow once-over again, before exhaling shakily and turning away, moving to the sink to clean up a little. you struggle a little to sit up, still recovering from your mind-shaking orgasm, and you're about to pull the dildo out of you when she speaks up again, still with her back turned to you.

"keep it inside you. that'll be your homework task for the next fortnight until our next session." she turns around, seeming to have collected herself a little better, her eyes fixed only on your face, purposely avoiding the rest of your body.

you sluggishly start to clean yourself up, wincing a little each time you accidentally move the dildo inside you.

"so you are able to come from penetration, you don't have to worry about that. and it's normal that you need some clitoral or other stimulation to be able to orgasm, often just penetration isn't enough. for the next fortnight i want you to continue masturbating, but i want you to practice leaving a dildo inside yourself afterwards, so your vaginal muscles get used to the feeling of something being inside. you can slowly work your way up the sizes, just don't push yourself and make sure you stop if it starts becoming too painful."

you nod, trying to bring your breathing back to a normal pace while you slip your clothes back on.

"alright. were there any other concerns you wanted to talk about?"

you shake your head, coming to a stand.

"okay. you can make the next appointment with the receptionist out front. i'll see you in 2 weeks y/n."

you nod, again, walking out the door when she opens it for you, but turning back before she can close it catching her a little by surprise, "thank you sana. i look forward to seeing you again soon." your voice is still a little scratchy but sana blushes, pursing her lips and nodding, closing the door after you.

you sigh a little dreamily, feeling more blissed out than you've been in a long time.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

this continues between the two of you for a few months.

you loved teasing sana and getting her out of her professional state. once you had worn lingerie under your coat to see her. you laugh remembering the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as soon as you took off your coat when you were in the privacy of her office. you'd let her fuck you however she wanted, and then you'd use each new experience to get you off during the fortnight that she'd give you new exercises, all increasing in intensity to help build you up to being able to take an average sized penis.

your favourite one to think about was that week that ben started complaining about how you'd been seeing sana for so long that surely you'd be able to take him by now. he insisted on coming to your next appointment but he was forced to sit outside and wait for you. little did he know you were on the other side of the door, a hand clamped over your mouth, the other holding you up against the door with your breasts pressed against it while sana railed into you from behind. of course she kept harnesses in her office. she had said they were mainly there for educational purposes, to show people how to put one on properly so it was safe and wasn't hurting anyone, it was just an added benefit that she also used them to pound into you with increasing dildo sizes each fortnight.

you lean onto your elbows while you watch her wash off the dildo she had just used on you. it was the biggest one yet and you're still fluttering a little remembering the way it filled you up while you rode her.

"what?" she turns around, drying off the dildo and slipping it back into your bag, pulling her shirt back on.

"just think you're nice to look at."

she rolls her eyes playfully, "shut up y/n."

you wiggle your eyebrows, "make me."

she glances at you, narrowing her eyes a little but making no effort to move closer, "as if you could go another round. you came so hard just then."

you giggle and sigh in satisfaction, resting your cheek on a hand, "i did. you're so good at what you do."

sana hums, finishing getting dressed and looking semi-presentable, settling back into her seat, but her expression changes a little while she studies you.

"what's up?"

"... have you tried having sex again with your boyfriend?"

"i told you i haven't."

she hums again, mind drifting elsewhere and you shrug, sitting up and starting to clean yourself up. "you can try now y'know? you were able to take that dildo and that's pretty much the average size of a penis already. unless he's bigger than that...?"

you scoff, shuffling into your pants, "no. he's actually smaller than the one you just used on me."

"then you should try having sex again."

you pull your shirt over your head, thinking over what she's saying. instead of sitting down in your own seat you climb into her lap, her arms wrapping around you automatically, hands gripping your waist while you make yourself comfortable. "doesn't that mean i won't be able to see you anymore?"

sana chuckles a little emptily, "i'm your sex therapist y/n. you knew this was going to end eventually."

"yeah but you don't fuck your other clients do you?"

sana laughs then, you feast in the sound. "no, no i don't."

"good. i was actually thinking..."

"hm?" she brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing slightly.

"would you... i don't know... like... i think about you when i get off yeah but i also think about you like... all the time..."

"mhm."

"so i was wondering if... i don't know if you felt the same if you wanted to like hang out outside of here? and like i don't mean to have sex i mean like go on a date maybe...?" you're shy, bringing this question up, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

"you have a boyfriend y/n." she deadpans.

"well yeah but i was thinking of breaking up with him anyway. now that you're bringing up having sex with him again i don't want that, and i don't want to stop seeing you. i guess just- just the threat that this all might be over soon- well i don't want it to be over. i like you sana." you say a little more firmly this time, meeting her eyes with decisiveness.

sana smiles then, all eyes, leaning in to peck you gently, "come back in a fortnight and we'll see. if you're no longer with him then... maaaybe i'll let you take me out."

your eyes brighten at her response, jumping out of her lap with excitement, "really?! oh my god i'll call him right now and do it-" you're reaching for your phone in your bag when she laughs, pulling you back into her

"don't do it over the phone silly. not even he deserves that."

you pout a little but it’s quickly wiped away when sana kisses you, lips slotting perfectly against yours with practiced ease. you sigh into her, addicted to the feeling, the taste, the smell of her. it was probably the easiest decision of your life, choosing your sex therapist over your boyfriend.

#sana #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana smut #twice smut #sana imagines #twice imagines #twice sana x reader #twice sana smut #dovveri

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junicult · 1 year

Text

!! the bachelors when they’re horny

contains ; much suggestive content. fem!farmer. established relationships (marriage). reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail. nsfw, no actual smut. sorta proofread.

note ; here’s another apology for disappearing :,,

harvey.

- the love of my life.

- he’s more of a romantic.

- so he tends to take a sweeter, gentler route into hinting at him being in the mood.

- it’s not a hard task, either.

- this man is so in love with you. when he’s in love, it can just be the sight of you to turn him on.

- some of the easiest, i’d say is anything that reminds him he’s married to you.

- like yeah, of course he knows that, but it always makes his day when he reminds himself of it.

- such as coming home to you, making dinner for you or when you make dinner for him.

- sitting in ur home together, eating and talking about your day. just reminds him of the fact that he gets to do this with you, and no one else does.

- since he knows how busy you are, he absolutely loves being a househusband. spoiling you by doing all the household chores while you work your ass off outside.

- and he genuinely enjoys doing that,

- but on the rarer occasion when you take most of the day off, and he’s out at work—that’s what really gets him.

- the smallest gesture of picking up his empty plate and washing the dishes.

- when you constantly say, “honey, i’ve got it,” as he tries to help…it does something to him.

- it’s a small act of love that shows him you care so much about him without saying it.

- now, maybe it wasn’t your intention to turn him on. i mean, it’s quite literally a regular, basic gesture—

- but here he is. throat aching, palms starting to sweat and his growing hard-on straining in his pants.

- all because you showed basic human decency.

- lol.

- also because it’s the love of his life doing it for him, but still. he can’t help it. he’s just so infatuated with you.

- as for getting the hint across to you? ofc he’s not gonna fucking say it.

- he overthinks everything. and the last thing he’d want is for you to feel obligated just because he wants to.

- but there’s an obvious tell when it comes to harvey, and it’s not just the fact that his cheeks get all red.

- it’s the way he starts to fumble over his sentences, mumbling and stuttering his words.

- he’s not very smooth i fear.

- but that’s what we love about him🫶

- it doesn’t take long to realize you’ve got him tense. feel free to tease him a bit.

- the minute you show you’re on the same page, however, he gets a pick up in his confidence.

- whenever he’s turned on like this, it’s always the best for you.

- his beautiful wife does something sweet for him? then you better believe he’s going to be even sweeter to you.

sam.

- i’ve said this before,

- but it’s not hard to get him in the mood.

- show him even the tiniest sign that you’re horny, and he is too.

- what can i say, he’s a simple man.

- now, don’t mistaken that as anybody that comes along, shows a little affection can turn him on. bc that’s not true. at all.

- in fact, he’s incredibly oblivious to that kinda stuff. if he gets hit on, he’ll just take it as a compliment.

- it’s you that turns him on. it’s your affection. it’s the fact that you want him.

- bc he’s just that in love with you, he gets all excited when he’s in those situations with you.

- SO!!

- he gets so cute when he’s needy.

- he’s always down hug and hold you, trust me. his love language is for sure physical touch.

- even just in general, he has to be holding your hand while you’re standing together, he’s latched onto you when you’re laying together. he’ll even hold onto you as you’re cooking dinner. he loves touching you.

- and when he’s horny it’s no different.

- it’s so random, but one of his major turn ons is watching tie your hair out of your face.

- super casually, too. can be mid-conversation, or he just catches a glimpse of you doing it across the room.

- “your mom wants a me to bring a largemouth bass for dinner tonight, can you feed the chickens please?” your explain as you secure your ponytail with a hairtie.

- he’s all sorts of distracted, obviously listening to your request but he can’t help but focus on the action.

- “yeah, for sure—totally,” he nods, and the minute u walk out the door he has to let out a large huff of breath.

- another thing that vvvv much turns him on is when u walk fresh out of the shower with only a towel on.

- like, i’m talking u can still see the droplets of water on your shoulders, and your hair is soaking to the touch.

- he’s a simple man i said.

- and what’s funny is, he always showers with you.

- so seeing you like that will happen 9/10 times after u shower.

- he looks pretty much identical to you, too. same sopping wet hair and towel around his waist.

- he’s cute with it though. like, ofc he stares at you, but he’s got the cutest smile & obvious flush across his cheeks.

- mumbles a soft, “you just look really pretty,” after you ask about it.

- …idk abt u but he’s getting it after that.

shane.

- there’s no hiding it.

- he’ll straight up tell you.

- honestly, i feel like every time he’s with you or he sees you, he’s always at least a little turned on.

- within reason of course.

- i mean, how can he not be?

- it’s just like, when you’re that in love, he’ll find you beautiful no matter what. and if you’re literally covered in dirt or soot from the mines head to toe, if you tell him ur horny he is not complaining 💀

- simply put, he’s always down.

- he’s very respectful, however. he knows if the time isn’t right.

- but anyways, when he’s rly horny, it’s not hard to figure it out.

- he makes so much more eye contact, and becomes like the most intense listener.

- i don’t want it to sound like he isn’t already a good listener, he’s not an asshole (for the most part <3)

- it’s not like he’s doing the bare minimum just to get in your pants. he becomes such an intent listener because he’s turned on from the way you talk.

- like he’s enchanted. he could listen to you forever. he genuinely wants you to continue.

- when ur lying in bed together before going to bed, casually recapping your day and he can’t help but think about how pretty you look while u innocently put lotion on.

- and then his thoughts wander. and then he’s thinking the other pretty sounds your voice makes.

- and once you finish, you ask a sweet, “so how was your day, handsome?”

- he’s all, “pretty boring. missed you a ton.”

- you’re too deep in your relationship to know his compliment is also a pickup line, and that his thumb rubbing your thigh isn’t him just showing affection.

- it’s only a matter of time before he’s looking over at you with the smallest smirk and glazed eyes.

- “you feeling okay? still got some energy left?”

- not subtle indeed.

sebastian.

- in the beginning of ur relationship, he was turned on by many things you did, but he’d wait until he had an actual excuse.

- let me explain,

- when you were getting ready for bed, and he was spending the night, he’d watch you delicately take off your jewelry and carefully put them away—instant turn on.

- but it wasn’t until u joined him in bed, gave him a couple kisses on the cheek, & hinted that u were in the mood yourself when he’d fold.

- like he’d wait until he had an “excuse” for some reason.

- as for now, when ur relationship is very committed and ur living under the same roof, he stopped overthinking as much.

- instead of watching your dainty fingers unclasp each necklace, it was his to help you.

- then a gentle press of his soft lips to the center of your neck, & all he had to do was listen to your soft laugh, before you turned around and kissed him deeper.

- when he’s horny, that’s absolutely what he does. it saves him from outright saying it, and from making you feel bad if you aren’t. a win win.

- for sebastian to blatantly tell you he wants to have sex right now—he’s gotta be DEPRIVED.

- even though he’s comfortable with you, and no matter how long he’s been with you, he’s just not that kind of person to outright ask.

- plus, he likes when you come onto him. it’s an ego booster.

- he just loves u in general, and the fact that he knows u love him.

- now just bc i stated he doesn’t like to ask, doesn’t mean he never will.

- it’s rare, but he’s been with you for years. he’s bound to suggest it at least once.

- and if that were the case, he’ll still be shy about it.

- he’s been thinking about you all day, even clingy enough to bring himself out to help you with work.

- he’s sorta like ur shadow the entire day, and for a guy that deeply appreciates his alone time, it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

- “what’s up, sebby? you’ve been really clingy today.” you giggle, leaning into his touch that wraps around your waist.

- you’ll get nothing but a hum and a shrug for now.

- and by the time your chores are wrapped up, the sun is long since set, and you’re all cleaned and full from dinner—is when you finally pry it out of him.

- “you’re just usually not like this,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair after kissing his cheek.

- “can i not show my wife affection?” he dryly jokes back, causing you to roll your eyes.

- “okay, i don’t need the attitude. of course you can.” you tease, smiling when he wraps his arms a little tighter around you and pulls you in for a kiss.

- “you just look extra beautiful today, and i wanna do something about it.” he all but shrugs, his voice low and quiet between his lips pressing against yours.

- “like what?”

- “why don’t you let me show you?”

alex.

- pfft.

- he’ll tell you.

- he’ll actually make it known to whoever’s near. he has zero shame.

- he always gets rly horny whenever ur out in public together, like at dinner w friends, or at town gatherings.

- it’s definitely because he gets to see you all dressed up, spritzed with perfume and makeup done.

- trust me, the sight of you in your loungewear still makes him a horny. a different kind of horny, tho. i’ll get to that in a minute.

- but there’s something so satisfying abt showing up to an event with a fucking goddess by his side. you’re dressed to the nines and you’ve got his hand in yours.

- it’s like a silent bragging right that you fell in love with him, not anyone else.

- he’s a little possessive in that sense.

- when you guys haven’t seen each other in a couple hours, he’ll always come find you after a bit to check in.

- it’s so cute cus ur a little buzzed, and so is he.

- he’ll easily slot himself by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close.

- just from the way your face immediately lights up, and a warm smile pulls at the corner of your cheeks is enough to turn him on.

- leans down to whisper in your ear, “when are you ready to head out? been dying to get this off of you,” while subtly tugging on the fabric hugging your hips.

- yeah, you’ll leave right after that😇

- and as for when he sees you in your loungewear,

- he tends to be a bit more loving.

- there’s definitely a side of him that only you bring out. he’s lowkey one of those guys that becomes such a softie when he’s alone with you.

- likes to hold u, or even be held if i may be so bold.

- so when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, mumbling abt how much he loves you and such, it tends to lead into a session or two.

elliott.

- he’s just beyond enamored by you and everything you do.

- he’s similar to shane in the sense that, no matter what he’ll always find you beautiful, and sexy.

- he’s the kind of guy who gets his own satisfaction by giving you what you want. so if ur horny, and you wanna have sex, well so is he.

- but for elliott, it’s different.

- it’s not so much as being horny and looking to just fuck,

- it’s him being in love with you, and wanting to make love to you, y’know?

- so when he’s horny, it’s usually when he gets his alone time with you.

- after you’ve finished work for the day, already showered, & he’s decided to wrap up his own work, is when you two can finally relax together.

- “you were out there for a while. busy day?” he asks curiously, silently patting his knee for you to prop your foot up.

- “ah, yeah, y’know, most of my crops needed to be harvested today and i had to run to pierre’s to plant some more.” you sigh, leaning back and indulging in his affection.

- it’s gonna sound a little weird, i know, but i feel like he silently loves when you’re a little sore.

- no, not because you’re in pain, but because he just loves the excuse to soothe you.

- he loves rubbing your shoulders and back, rubbing your feet when you’re tired while you tell him about your day.

- it’s usually then when he becomes infatuated, and all he wants to do is hold you and kiss you all over.

- so after some back and forth, talking about whatever news came up over the few hours you’ve been apart, is when he’s the most in love.

- there’s never really a verbal agreement, you two usually just feel it at the same time, which is when you lean in and it gets a bit heated.

- he can’t possibly pick one single thing you do that makes him hornier then another. it’s everything you do.

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entitled-fangirl · 8 months

Text

Sparring.

Jasper Hale x vampire!reader

Summary: As Jasper teaches how to fight the newborns, the reader and Bella talk about her past.

Words: 1,551

Warning: vampire stuff, talk of death, cursing

Author's note: I can't tell if I love it or hate it but here you go anyway!

Masterlist <3

............................................................................

The famous silver jeep of the Cullen’s pulled up as she watched Emmett be thrown into the dirt.

The entire family turned as Edward and Bella stepped out of the car.

As they walk to the family, so do the wolves.

Each vampire held to their mate as they watched said wolves come out from the tree line. Soft growls came from their snouts from the obvious smell of vampires.

Jasper held on to her as they did so, his arms around her waist, his chest providing support against her back.

Edward stepped to Carlisle, “They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.”

Carlisle nodded, “At least they came. That’s enough. Will you translate?”

Carlisle stepped towards the wolves, thanking them for coming before explaining that Jasper would be the teacher in this scenario.

Jasper’s loving mate smiled. She loved sparring as a family.

…

Some time passes and the girl now sits on the hood of the jeep next to Bella. She leans over, “I’ve always found this entertaining. Watching them, I mean…”

Bella smiled as Emmett flew threw the air once again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind me asking…?”

The girl nods, anticipating what the human could possibly think of to ask.

“Jasper knows a lot about this kind of thing… I mean… Why is that exactly..?”

His mate shifts slightly, not expecting that question. “Well, Bella. I don’t feel that I’m the one that should tell you. Perhaps you should ask him. It’s… a horrid story, honestly. I’m not sure he’d want it out there, you know?”

Bella nods, “yeah, right. I get it… sorry.”

The girl’s head perks up at the sound of her name being called by Carlisle. “Oh, shit. My turn to go. Watch me, Bells?”

Bella grins, “Of course.”

…

Jasper stood confidently on the dirt ground, his eyes trained on the person in front of him.

His pretty mate.

She held the same look in her eyes.

They had sparred many times before. And they were both quite good. He taught her practically everything he knows.

The entire family gathered around to see how it would play out. Would they go easy on each other? Who would win?

It seemed the two held that look in their eyes as well as they tried to scope the other one’s thoughts.

Then he rushed her.

They were both incredible to watch as if they were dancing. Their bodies seemed to always know what the other would do, even when changing their fighting style. It seemed the two lovers truly knew each other in and out.

Eventually she slipped, and Jasper seized his opportunity, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.

Pulled against his body, her face was mere inches from him. The tension between the two rose as his gaze fell to her lips. God, he couldn’t resist her even when he was pretending to be her enemy.

And she was no better.

She focused on the feeling of his strong grip, his sturdy fingers wrapped around her seemingly delicate wrist.

If they were alone, this sparring match would have escalated, like it usually does when they are so. But today, they simply stared at each other. Those who didn’t know them would assume they were calculating what the other might do next, but no. This family knew them quite well. And thank god no one else had Jasper’s gift, or the tension would bring a blush to their cheeks.

She gently leaned forward, their lips brushing. Jasper tilted his head down to receive her soft lips. But they never came.

She swept his leg out from under him, pinning him to the ground as she placed a knee on his chest.

She leaned down to his face, whispering softly in his ear, “What was that you said? Don’t get distracted?”

He smiled, letting his head fall back against the dirt.

She would be the death of him.

And he would love it.

…

The sparring continued the next day as she found herself sitting next to Bella on the hood of the car again.

She watched Jasper as he sparred with an admiring look in her eye. She loved the Major with all her heart.

Or, what was left of it anyway.

If it still pumped blood, she would be able to feel it beat for him.

“Do you mind if I ask you another question? A different one, this time?”

The girl nods, “Yeah, don’t see why not.”

Bella looks down at the dirt. “Can I ask what happened to you? How you… how you got here?”

She felt a breath come out of her unused lungs, “Oh. Yeah. ‘Course. It’s… not a pleasant story but any means… are you sure?”

The human nods, “Please. I’m trying to understand you guys better.”

The girl leans back slightly, regaining her bearings. “Alright. Well… I was born in 1941. I uh, grew up in the 50s. Not the best timing, obviously. Do you know much about the ’50’s, Bella?”

The human’s head tilts back and forth in thought, “A little. Civil rights and stuff..?”

“Yeah. Well, the Korean War was in the 50’s. There was this military guy that fell in love with me. And I to him. But… we, uh… how do I say this? He was… we were…?”

Bella leans forward, “…what? Just say it.”

“Well, we were different skin tones. And.. well, I don’t need to say much more. Anyway, there was this other man that decided he liked me. He was pigheaded and awful. I hated him. He tormented me everyday. I finally told him about the man that-“

“-what was his name?”

The girl’s head perked up, “Whose?”

Bella met her eyes, “…the one you loved.”

A deep sigh left the vampire’s lips, “…Johnathan.”

Bella nodded, leaning back again to let the girl continue her story.

“I told the man about… Johnathan and… the man began to tell everyone in town. It became the only thing anyone talked about until eventually…. Eventually...,” the girl’s voice faded out in thought. “…I’m sorry. I haven’t told this story in so long…”

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

“Thank you… uh… the man formed a mob and approached us in the park one day. Johnathan tried to protect me. And he did. Until they… killed him…” the girl stared at the ground, a somber look in her eyes. “…and the man ended up being a vampire… he changed me and… well… yeah.”

Bella nodded, “How did you find Carlisle?”

“Oh. Right. Uh, I was on the run… after I changed. I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me. He…. He stood to where I would crash into him, so he could talk to me. He knew everything. He took me in. And I met Jasper…”

Her eyes wandered back to Jasper. His sleeves were pulled up, exposing the skin of his forearms, and the scars that resided there. He was so strong. So perfect. Her knight in shining armor.

Bella noticed the girl’s longing gaze and smiled to herself. “…how did you know he was the one?”

The girl turned back to Bella, “Oh. You just know, Bella. It’s… ugh, it’s this feeling you get in your heart. Like you’ve finally taken a breath after being underwater for years. Like your souls have intertwined and have become one. It’s… strange to put into words…”

Bella nods, “It sounds wonderful.”

She nods too, “Oh, it is. Edward feels that way about you.”

Bella looks up in surprise, “Really?”

She smiles, “Yeah. He told me that the day he met you. Like he couldn’t think around you. You… occupy all of his thoughts. You fascinate him.”

The human grins, “And that’s how Jasper feels?”

“-How I feel about what?”

Jasper had walked up to the two, a grin on his face. He leaned against the car on his side, his arm resting over his girl’s leg.

His mate smiled, “Perhaps it’s none of your business… girl things…”

Jasper scoffed, “Sure, darlin’. Anything you say.”

Her hand reached up to run it through his hair.

The three sat in silence for a while before the girl broke it. “I need to go back to the house. Help me down, Jas?”

He stood, reaching his arms out, gripping her waist to help her down. She was vampire. She didn’t need help. And they both knew that.

Bella scooted forward, “Wait, before you go…?”

The girl turned around in Jasper’s arms. “…Yeah?”

“What happened to him? …To the guy that…”

The girl’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Her head turned slightly to look at Jasper’s face that held the same knowing smirk of his own. “Well, Bella. He… got what he deserved…”

And with that, she walked away.

Bella gawked slightly, now focusing on Jasper, hoping he could illuminate on the situation.

But he continued to grin, watching his girl walk away.

Eventually, Jasper felt Bella’s confused emotion and turned to her. “I made a vow not to kill after I met her…”

Bella’s eyebrows knitted together, and Jasper’s smirk grew into a grin.

“…But I fucking killed him.”

And with that, silence overtook the forest as he continued to watch his girl walk away.

.............................................................................

#jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #twilight fanfiction #twilight #vampire imagine #vampire fanfiction #vampire

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kiss-inthekitchen · 6 months

Text

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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jungkookstatts · 1 year

Text

Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can.

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.”

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex’s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.”

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.”

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear.

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?”

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.”

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together.

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.”

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?”

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?”

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all.

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart.

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook.

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience.

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.”

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?”

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.”

“Well, do you?”

“Of course, I masturbate.”

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?”

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl.

“Well, do you?”

You roll your eyes.

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.”

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.”

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh.

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,”

“Huh?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?!

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?”

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting.

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely.

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says.

You feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.”

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this.

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch.

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!”

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain.

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.”

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice."

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once.

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before.

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently.

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms.

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body.

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.”

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb.

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently.

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.”

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this.

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again.

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.”

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.”

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.”

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first.

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment.

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.”

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own.

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own.

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good.

“Kook,” you whine against his lips.

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first.

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this.

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time.

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you.

“Please,” he gives you permission.

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious.

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous.

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book.

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second.

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time.

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt.

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more.

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly.

“Can I?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper.

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you.

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face.

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him.

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair.

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg.

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue.

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.”

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again.

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat.

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek.

“Okay,” he smiles.

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer.

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you.

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?”

“Like a dildo?” you clarify.

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you.

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his.

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s.

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.”

“I can see why,” you exhale.

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand.

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.”

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick.

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face.

“Shut up,” you smile.

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look.

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.”

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.”

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body.

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle.

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions.

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to.

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.”

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question.

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his.

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.”

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles.

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so.

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same.

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you.

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea.

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace.

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues.

“S’ this okay?” he asks you.

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.”

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before.

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin.

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request.

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop.

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position.

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?”

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy.

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry.

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer.

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?”

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–”

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own.

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,” he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.”

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once.

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.”

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you.

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly.

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?”

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response.

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You okay?” he asks you gently.

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this.

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back.

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him.

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks.

“Only if the feeling is mutual.”

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

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