#and you know. at this point he is lying about everything. but i do wonder how much he actually believes that 👁️👁️

[vettelsvee]

THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER BEEN MINE | Sebastian Vettel

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sebastian vettel x race engineer gf!oc

summary: seb has lots of surprises for di because it is a very special day. however, di is so insecure about herself that she just thinks seb wants to break up with her.

word count: 7682

warnings: none! maybe just curse words, possible history series "spoilers" (however, at the beginning of the series you know they and up together, so...). lots of mentions to taylor swift. spanish words 100% real (as i’m spanish!) narrated on di's pov.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

I slowly opened my eyes and, still lying down, I began to stretch, moving from side to side. I reached out my hand towards the side of the bed where I supposed my boyfriend would still be, but all I felt was the cold of the morning seeping into every pore of my skin.

I sat up, fully opened my eyes and realized the guy wasn't there. Not there, nor anywhere in the room, not even in the bathroom despite its door being open.

A loud noise coming from downstairs and the smell of coffee were what set off the alarms. I decided to put on my slippers, throw on my robe and go down the stairs slowly, trying not to make noise and disturb Seb in whatever he might be doing.

I entered the kitchen and saw the blond guy with his back turned, holding the handle of a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. Next to him, on the counter, was a plate with a couple of waffles, a bottle of ketchup, and a couple of jars with coffee and juice.

I knew Sebastian Vettel was romantic, but I also knew he liked to sleep like a log, so this could only mean that either I was dreaming or the RedBull golden boy wanted something from me.

That he wanted to do something nice for his girlfriend was the last thing on my mind.

I decided to approach him and hug him from behind, not even flinching at my unexpected contact. Without stopping paying attention to the scrambled eggs, almost ready, the German turned around and gave me a short kiss on the lips.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?" he asked.

I just nodded with a murmur.

"If you let me, I can finish preparing breakfast," he asked, trying to push me away. "I've been awake for an hour and a half to make everything perfect so please, don't make me ruin it now."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Vettel."

I sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and let myself fall onto it, not without noticing the bouquet of flowers in the center. Orchids and roses were mostly what it was made up of, although I could also spot a few daffodils. I realized that what held them all together was a cord with a small label with something written on it. Tempted, I was about to open it, but I ended up not doing it because I was convinced it would be some gift for Sebastian that was none of my business.

"Do you like it?"

The guy put a plate in front of me which, for what he usually did, was a masterpiece. A waffle covered with fruit on top and, beside it, scrambled eggs and some small containers with ketchup, whipped cream, white chocolate and dark chocolate.

I was mesmerized, not knowing what to say to him. It was the breakfast my mother used to make me on weekends and on some special occasions, like my birthday. I would even swear that the containers with the sauces on them were exactly the same. My gaze was fixed on the plate, unable to look away from it. It was quite strange that Seb knew about this because, beyond my sister and my late father, no one else got idea about this tradition.

"Di, love, are you listening?" he insisted, pulling me out of my trance.

"What?" I asked, completely distracted.

"The bouquet of flowers," Seb replied, pointing to the vase. "Although I also accept feedback on the breakfast."

"Let me taste it. You know you're not the chef of our wonderful couple."

Sebastian nodded, took a seat in front of me and patiently waited for my final verdict. I took my time to slowly taste everything even though I wanted to devour it eagerly. I made all sorts of combinations: chocolate with whipped cream and waffle, ketchup with scrambled eggs, and I even dared to mix chocolate and cream with eggs just to cough, give myself nausea, and provoke laughter from my boyfriend.

I drank some coffee to get rid of the bad taste that had lingered in my mouth while I couldn't stop thinking about how on earth he could know my mother's exact recipe.

"So, what's the verdict? Pass?"

I lifted my head to look at him and smiled. Not just approved: it was such a masterpiece.

"Definitely, sunshine. I mean, not just the breakfast, don't get me wrong," I hastened to add. "All of this is wonderful," I pointed to the breakfast and to him, "but..."

But I’m starting to have the strange feeling like there's something behind all of this.

"But what, sweetheart?"

That you're doing this because you want us to break up.

"Nothing," I rushed to reply, dismissing the fleeting thought that had just crossed my mind.

I knew Seb wasn’t pleased with my answer, but it seemed to be enough for him.

I continued having breakfast, and soon he joined me with a protein shake and an apple. I couldn't help but feel bad eating such a feast in front of him.

"And how do you like the bouquet?" he asked.

"It's very beautiful," I replied, covering my mouth so he wouldn't see it full. "Whoever gave it to you has a very good taste."

"Are you saying I have good taste?"

"What? Did you buy them?" I asked again.

"Of course. Who do you think would give me flowers?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Any of the girls who chase you around the paddock, for example."

"Di: the bouquet is for you," he announced nervously.

I remained, once again today, in shock. Seb had left me speechless on many occasions, but today was simply too much.

I looked at the bouquet, looked at him, and looked back at the bouquet. His index finger pointed at the note. If I had noticed earlier, just as I was doing now, I could have seen, even if only vaguely, that it was his handwriting.

"Read the note, love."

Following his advice, I delicately took the card in my hands, trying not to break it and carefully untied the cord. When I opened it I could see that, in addition to something written in German, our mother tongue, it was accompanied by his signature, a poorly drawn heart and, of course, one of the happy faces he almost always used:

You told me I wouldn't have many firsts with you, but look: today is the first time I’ll give you flowers. I assure you there will be many more, my dearest paddock girl (although now I prefer calling you my beautiful girlfriend and, of course, my dearest race engineer).

My eyes filled with tears. Without thinking I turned around the kitchen island, running towards Seb, who was still sitting, and I threw myself at him to kiss him. I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his hands running down my back to my neck, pulling me closer without breaking our union.

We parted, breathless, a few seconds later, when we felt like we were running out of air. Our foreheads stayed together, and our gazes couldn't be torn away from each other's. A playful smile formed on Sebastian's lips, and I knew what he was thinking.

"Don't get so affectionate, Di. We have a lot to do today."

I pulled away from him and crossed my arms. He hadn't mentioned anything about that last night, not even when he convinced me to come spend a few days with him, knowing perfectly well that I couldn't just leave my job at the café during winter breaks like that.

"Well, you'll have to tell me what then."

He put his hands in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that he didn't hesitate to offer me.

"I made a list because I didn't want to forget anything, You know I’m a mess," he explained as I quickly glanced over what it said.

Try to find the album Lara wants, but the limited edition version.

It made sense. Seb's sister was as obsessed with One Direction as I was with Taylor Swift.

Buy a notebook (mom told me it's good so I don't forget things).

I didn't continue reading because the rest seemed to be a shopping list that wasn't very important. I left it on the table, trying not to get it dirty with breakfast leftovers, and picked up the dishes, ready to wash them.

Seb quickly came over to me, taking them out of my hands and depositing them all in the sink. Without saying anything else, he came closer and gave me a quick peck on the lips followed by a loving slap on the butt.

"No, today my woman is not going to do anything, so you better go upstairs and check if there's anything on the bed."

Following his advice full of intrigue, I hurried upstairs to the bedroom and looked for whatever my boyfriend was eager for me to see. It was quite easy to find as the fluorescent pink color of the post-it note that was where my boyfriend had told me to look contrasted greatly with the snow-white sheets. Look at the white box in the closet, it was the only thing written, accompanied once again by another one of his smiley doodles.

I contained myself from opening the box in the closet. I carefully placed it on the bed and opened it in the same cautious manner just in case there was something unexpected. And indeed there was: to my surprise, I found the dress I had been wanting for so long.

I took it in my hands, stretching it over me as much as I could and letting the softness of the fabric envelop my fingers. It was even more beautiful than what I had seen in that shop showcase, and I didn't know how Seb had managed to get it because when I went to inquire about buying it, I was told it was sold out.

I could see that there was something deliberately hidden under the tulle that wrapped it. Carefully, I placed the garment on the bed and saw that it was the set of lingerie in black and green tones with floral details that I fell in love with the one time Britta and I went to Victoria's Secret out of curiosity.

It was more than obvious what the blond wanted me, us, to do, with this.

"Seb! Was all of this your idea!?"

I waited for an answer that never came. I shouted at him again, this time even louder, but once again silence was the only thing that answered for him.

I decided not to wait for an answer that I knew wouldn't come, so I hurried to dress in my new outfit, also changing my underwear and shoes to ones that would match my new outfit better.

When I arrived downstairs I could see Seb already waiting for me at the door leading to the garage with his car keys on his hand.

"It looks much better on you than I thought," he said, lost in thought. "You look like a real life Cinderella version, but a thousand times prettier."

I didn't know what to say to him because I didn’t know how to answer every time  I received a compliment from him. I thought that when we started dating I would get used to Seb constantly complimenting me, but two months later it still hadn't been the case.

I smiled shyly and lowered my head. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led us towards his car.

"Did you like... that?"

"What do you mean by that, love?"

He knew perfectly well what he meant, same as me, but I wanted to play with him just as he seemed to be playing with me with so much mystery.

"You know..." he began, hesitating. "What, if I'm not mistaken, you're wearing underneath the dress."

"Oh, the bra and panties!" I exclaimed as I got into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. "They’re perfect, Seb."

We remained silent for the first few minutes of the journey with only the daily news from one of the local radio stations playing in the background.

"Di," he called me again, shifting his gaze slightly towards me. I hated it when he did that. "Did you really like the lingerie set or was it too risky? I don't want our first Saint..."

After saying that last part, he chose to quickly shut up.

I hated it when he did that, especially when the thought that he was behaving like that because he wanted to break up with me had started to creep into my head.

"Seb, seriously, I loved it," I assured him, trying to keep calm and, at the same time, make him keep it too. "Britta, more than having good taste, has a good memory," I added.

"Who says Britta helped me?"

"It's too much of a coincidence that last month, when we met and went into Victoria's Secret out of curiosity, I complained about how expensive this was," I explained, pulling a strip of my bra out of the neckline of the dress to show him, "and how much I'd love to have it. And, today, you show up with the dress I'd been saving up for more than I'd have liked.”

Seb smiled sideways. It was more than obvious that he was the one behind all of this.

"Maybe I should talk to my PR about more mundane things than press conferences and stupid rumors," he confirmed.

"If you want, only if you want... I can show it to you later."

Thankfully, the traffic light was red. His face quickly turned towards where I was, turning his gaze back to the road because that's what I made him do with my hand. The light turned green again, and he continued driving.

His cheeks had turned a shade of red that I rarely saw on him. I wasn't going to deny that I didn't like seeing him like that.

"Easy, Di. We've waited three years to be together. I think we can wait a little longer to do you know what."

A few minutes later we parked in one of the farthest parking lots from the mall. As he usually did, Seb got out before me to open the door for me, which I thanked him for despite being dying of nerves.

"Well, what do we have to do?"

I started walking next to him, picking up my pace and taking his hand. I let go of the union immediately, and he gave me a look of pity. Except for some exceptions of our trusted people no one knew, for now, that we were dating, and we didn't intend to make it public for now.

He gave me a look of pity that pierced me like a dagger in the chest, and that only increased the thought that we were living our last hours together.

"I thought we'd go to the music store first," he commented, avoiding what had just happened. "Then I want to go to a stationery store that has opened and that I know that you’d... well, it has a lot of office supplies that you’d like," he finally said. "And I also want to go buy several things for our house in case we have special guests coming up."

I didn't want to ask more to avoid unwanted answers. I assumed that Hanna was one of those unexpected and special guests, but I couldn't, for now, face hearing him say that.

The first stop, as Seb had said, was the music store. As we entered a combination of violins and pianos made me relax almost instantly. A section of vinyl records right as we walked in caught his attention, especially because the majority of them were from his favorite band, the Beatles.

"You have no idea how long I've been looking for this," he began, taking one of them in his hands and analyzing it in detail, "but today we didn't come for this."

He let it go and headed to another section that seemed much more youthful. I stopped to look at the price of the vinyl version of Abbey Road, and I decided to take a picture of it to know exactly which one it was and if I could get it cheaper because the few savings I had were spent to come see him.

"Di, look! Do you like it?"

I spotted him a few feet away from me holding a stack of records. I decided to approach him to see what titles were there. Speak now, by Taylor Swift, was the one that caught my attention the most to the point that I let out a muffled scream of excitement.

"Do you like any?"

I knew he had noticed my reaction, but I acted as if nothing had happened. I continued browsing through the ones he had seemed to pick out, but besides the one by the American singer and Rihanna, none of them interested me.

Actually not, sunshine," I lied.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, knowing perfectly well that my previous behavior contradicted my response. He repeated the question, and I denied it again.

"Seb, really, I didn't like any of them," I insisted.

"If you say so... then, let's go. I didn't find the CD my sister wanted, so everything's done here."

"But isn't this the one you were looking for?"

I discreetly pointed out the limited edition of One Direction’s Up all night behind him that I had seen as soon as we arrived. I noticed him starting to feel uncomfortable. A nervous smile came out of his lips, biting his lower one while playing with his hair.

He was nervous, and I was starting to get even more nervous when I saw him like that. I would swear that if it weren't for the fact that we were in public, I would have panicked.

I tried to laugh it off to calm myself, but I stopped as soon as he took my arm and quickly led me to the store's exit.

"Hey you, calm down," I said once we were outside. "What's going on with you? Now you're in such a hurry?"

"Well," he looked at his watch and I imitated his action. Twelve fifteen. Great, almost lunchtime and we had only partially accomplished the first goal on the list. "I just remembered that my sister already had it."

"And why did we come then?"

He said nothing. His gaze landed on the ground and on his feet, fidgeting. That was another clear sign that he was lying to me.

"Seb, you know if you have something to tell me..."

"Stay here for a second. I'll be right back."

He didn't give me time to react because I saw him disappear again into the store. I was filled with curiosit.; I peeked several times through the shop window to see what he was up to and hid each time he seemed to see me. A few minutes later he came out of the store with a paper bag in his hands. I ran towards him to try to see what was in it, but as soon as I peeked to see the content, he changed hands.

"I'm not going to tell you anything for now," he said mysteriously. "You'll see it when the time is right."

"Come on, Seb..."

The pout I made to try to get him to reveal something, even if it was a miserable clue, was in vain both at that moment and in the following hours.

As we went through the stores Seb wanted to see, I realized that he seemed to have established some kind of routine. We entered together, wherever it was, under the excuse of buying something that appeared on Sebastian's list. Once we were inside my boyfriend only took a quick look around, asked me if I liked or needed anything, and then we left. Every time he asked me something, I answered with a firm no, but he ended up going back in, asking me to wait outside, and coming out with a bag.

It was more than clear that he was plotting something, and I had the feeling that it wasn't anything good. I tried to find the background of it all, analyzing every detail because even when we went to eat at one of my favorite restaurants, I couldn't think of anything else.

Vettel ate eagerly, enjoying something other than vegetables and grilled chicken. I, however, toyed with the plate of carbonara pasta in front of me while I couldn't stop thinking that all of this was the imminent end of our short love story.

Was Seb buying things for Hanna, and he didn't want to tell me?

"Di, what's wrong? You've been too quiet for a while."

I noticed the concern in his eyes. I smiled to avoid raising suspicions, but the truth was that all I wanted to do was cry.

"No, it’s ok. I'm just thinking about the day we’re having," I replied shortly, still staring at my food.

"You're acting very strangely, love. Are you sure you're okay?"

His insistence made me want to spill everything, but my judgment urged me to proceed with caution to avoid risking our relationship even more.

He set down his cutlery and reached across the table to take my hands. He cared much less than I did about who might see us, but I felt a twinge of anxiety. Surprisingly, that simple gesture calmed me a bit.

"Yes, really," I insisted, now looking at him. "I'm trying not to get nervous about whatever you seem to be planning for you know who."

My smile was too forced, and so was his. I knew my response didn't convince him, but it didn't convince me either.

And what about his expression? Nothing more needed to be said when I saw how he avoided looking at me and how his lips seemed to downturn.

"What do you think if we go to the movies after we finish eating? I know there's a movie you'd like to see."

"I don't know, Seb. Do you want to go to the movies with me because you feel like it or because you're trying to distract me from whatever you're hiding?"

My tone was more serious than I wanted it to be. I glanced at his face and knew that it had upset him.

I felt worse, constantly thinking that all this fuss was nothing more than a silly excuse for him to take me to accompany him to buy gifts for his new girlfriend, who happened to be his ex-girlfriend, and he was going to break up with me as soon as he could.

"Di, really, I just want to have a good time with you," he assured, knowing deep down that it was quite difficult.

"And why all this fuss? Why so much insistence that I come, specifically yesterday, to spend a few days with you? What are you hiding?" I asked, with pain in my words.

"I'm not hiding anything, darling, and I'm telling you completely seriously," my boyfriend sighed, trying to find the right words. "I just want today to be a special day for us. Why did I bring you then to a place where you like to eat? And to the movies? I know how much you like the cinema, just like I know you love Taylor..."

"What's with Taylor?" I asked, interested in what I assumed would be a mention of the blonde singer. "Swift, I guess," I added.

"What movie do you say you want to see?" he countered.

In the end, he chose it because I didn't feel like sitting for at least an hour and a half, staring at a screen. A Few Best Men was the chosen one, and even though it was one that he definitely wouldn't watch, he did it for me, just like he did when he paid for the tickets almost without giving me a chance to do it.

Once we were inside the movie theater, he directed me to the section with a large selection of candy and snacks and urged me to choose whatever I wanted.

"It's enough that you paid for everything today," I said shyly. "Lunch, the tickets, whatever you bought in the stores..."

For Hanna, not for you, I thought, trying to push that thought away as quickly as it came to my mind.

But Sebastian, as stubborn as he was, didn't accept my refusal.

"Come on, Di. Choosing food you crave is part of the routine of going to the movies," he said, as if we went to the movies daily. "I mean it, love. Choose whatever you want."

"I'm not hungry."

The blonde didn't say anything else. He simply approached where all the snacks were and started choosing for me.

"So, for my Di, let's get popcorn now," he began listing out loud. “Let's also get her a bag of licorice and another one of M&M's to mix with the popcorn..."

"And what about you, Vettel?" I asked curiously while trying not to laugh at how well he knew me.

"The usual: sweet popcorn and nachos with cheese."

Seb took the wide and, perhaps, not so varied selection to the counter to pay for everything. I tried to convince him to let me do it, but it was impossible once again, just like carrying all the goods to the theater. Some popcorn fell along the way, and we spilled so much soda on the floor that we were scolded.

The ads were already showing when we entered. With everything dark except for the light emanating from the screen, we took care not to fall as we made our way to our seats, which were in one of the corners of the highest row.

Seb sat next to me, and what I thought would turn into a session of incognito kisses turned into a whisper warning me that he was going to the bathroom.

"I won't take long, I promise," he assured me.

"Sure, go ahead."

Since I saw him get up and disappear from the room I couldn't concentrate on anything other than his departure, especially when I saw that minutes were passing by and he didn't return. During the first fifteen minutes, I tried my best to focus on the movie, but it was impossible for me no matter how much I tried to get interested. About half an hour later, I was already thinking about infidelity, unexpected encounters, and even, why not, that he had left me hanging.

Forty-five minutes after he left Sebastian returned, giving me a kiss on the lips that I didn't respond to with the same passion as usual.

"How's the movie darling?" he asked as if nothing had happened.

I took a deep breath before answering him. I didn't want to mess things up even though, perhaps, he deserved it.

"Fine."

"Are you enjoying it? Did I choose well?"

"Yes."

Seb seemed to notice my curt responses, but it's not like I wanted to hide them. He approached me, wrapping his arms around me, from which I escaped. The last thing I wanted in those moments was to have him close.

"Is something wrong, Di? You've been acting strange all day, love."

"Nothing's wrong, Seb. I'm just a little tired," I lied again, avoiding looking directly at him. Was I the one acting strange?

"I was thinking of going out to dinner," he said a bit... sad? "But if you want, we can go back home. Today, I'm completely at your disposal."

"I see," I commented ironically.

The blonde man gently took my hand.

"I was thinking of taking you to a newly opened Spanish restaurant," he whispered. "Would you like that?"

"I would love it," I declared. He had caught me there. Wherever there was Spanish food, everything else could go away. "But you know as well as I do that we shouldn't frequent public places if you want this," I pointed to both of us with my finger, referring to our relationship, "to stay between us and our closest family."

"We had lunch at a restaurant today and nobody saw us," he reproached, raising his voice a bit more than he should. Some people turned to look at us, and I tried to hide.

"Yes, and what time was it, three-thirty in the afternoon? Who the hell eats at that hour, Seb?"

His silence confirmed my point.

"Well," he continued, not letting me enjoy the movie, "then I'm afraid I'll have to change a part of my surprise. You're lucky I'm a Formula 1 driver and fast thinking is my thing," he said, trying to make me laugh and achieving just the opposite.

"Don't we already have a problem?"

"What problem are you talking about, Diana?"

That his tone had gone from relaxed to completely curt, and above all. That he called me by my full name was a bad sign, a very bad one indeed.

"Sorry," he spoke immediately, realizing that he hadn't answered me and that he certainly hadn't spoken in the best way. "It’s just that I’m getting nervous. I'm sorry," he repeated, making me feel a little guilty. "Everything I had planned is just one mess after another, and..."

"It's okay, Seb. Let's go to dinner," I ended up giving in, ignoring what I had just heard and even though hunger was the last thing on my mind at that moment.

Seb kept talking to me about a thousand different topics for the remaining time of the movie, and did the same on the way back to the car and throughout the journey to that restaurant called La Casa. As much as I felt bad because my boyfriend seemed to have lost his spirits, my mind kept playing tricks on me and it was nearly impossible to stop thinking that the bad news was going to come at any moment.

Now, as I waited for Seb to come out with the order, and hopefully with the food already in his hands, my stomach was a bundle of uncontrollable nerves.

"I ordered a little bit of everything," I had seen him coming from afar, but I turned in my seat when he opened the trunk. "I know Spanish food is your favorite because you grew up with it for most of your life," he explained as he placed the bags in the back of the car. I was about to interrupt him, but he asked me to be quiet. "I also ordered some Asian food, which they also had, I don't know why, and I know you love that too."

"But don't you remember anything you ordered?" I inquired with curiosity now that my hunger seemed to have returned.

"Just some croquetas and tortilla de patatas. I don't understand Spanish, my dear," he replied as he got behind the wheel and resumed driving down the road. "When we get to the lookout you'll have to explain everything to me in detail."

As we continued driving towards the place, unease grew in me at the same time. A desire to vomit integrated into my throat, accompanied by cravings that I didn't try to hide. With each turn Seb took, I swore that the little I had eaten that day, which was already more than digested, was going to be thrown up when I least expected it.

Sebastian Vettel, the guy I had been in love with since, possibly, the day he stayed overnight in my hotel room the night before his first victory, was going to break up with me, the girl he considered the love of his life, and for whom he left his ex-girlfriend.

Surreal, right?

The driver parked the car, got out quickly and didn't hesitate to open the trunk. He took out a much larger number of bags than I would swear to remember. Then, he unfolded a blanket and placed it on the ground, putting a couple more on top, I guess so we wouldn't get cold. He also placed some cushions from his house and a paper tableware with children's drawings next to what I would swear was the food he had just bought.

My surprise came when he took out a box much larger than the one this morning. As if it weren't enough that it was closed, it was wrapped in Cars-themed wrapping paper, and to top it off, it had a big red bow on it.

"What's all this about?"

My still boyfriend, with the box in his hand, gave me a bittersweet look, as if I were speaking to him in a language he didn't understand.

"Sebastian, I'm telling you seriously," I got even more serious. I saw he started to laugh, and I got even angrier with him. "Don't laugh, you asshole!"

"What are you talking about, Di?" he asked innocently while I hit him with slaps on the arm.

"About today. All day long," I reluctantly replied, which was the last thing I wanted given his expression, quite a poem. "First, I don't know how, but you get up much earlier than me and make me the exact same breakfast my mom used to make for me," I began to enumerate, trying to control my anger. "Then, you give me a list that we didn't end up using because you did whatever you wanted. And let's not forget that you left me alone in the movie theater to, of course, go anywhere but to the bathroom," I added angrily.

Seb was unable to process an appropriate response, and that's when I realized everything. I tried to control my tears, just as I had done all day long, but I couldn't do it anymore. As soon as my tears began to fall down my face, I saw the pilot leaving the box he was holding on the ground, and coming closer to me to hug me. At first, I resisted, but I gave in when, once again, his arms became my refuge.

"The day I asked you out I told you we were going to have many first times, do you remember?" he said softly. I nodded, remembering how nervous I was all that day. "Don't you want us to celebrate our first Valentine's Day together in a special way?"

Valentine's Day.

Today was February 14th.

It couldn't be true.

I quickly moved away from Seb and looked around. Now everything made sense.

Everything he had been preparing was for me... or at least, that's what I believed.

"What do you mean Valentine's Day?" I blurted out, unable to hide my surprise.

"Well, Valentine's Day, Di. You know: the day when couples, or almost couples, or I don't know, do things for each other, and..."

"So you don't want to break up with me?"

I let it out so quickly, without letting him finish speaking and without thinking. I burst into tears once again. Now I felt much stupider than before, but above all, I felt bad because I had earned the title of the worst girlfriend in the world. Seb had done all this for me, and all I had done was pay him back by speaking badly to him, thinking he was cheating on me and of course, not buying him the vinyl he wanted.

"Break up with you?" I knew that right now he probably wanted to tell me anything but nice things. That he had hugged me again, and, above all, that his voice conveyed calm said a lot about him. "Di, where do you get those ideas from?"

"It's just that..." I inhaled and exhaled before looking up at him. I couldn't speak badly to him again, especially not for something that had been the result of my insecurity. "Everything today made me think you wanted to end it. The breakfast, leaving me stranded at the cinema... I thought you were getting ready to tell me you were getting back with Hanna," I finished saying.

Seb, after hearing that, held me even tighter against his chest.

"Di, I'm so sorry if I made you feel that way," he apologized. "All of this was to do something special for our first Valentine's together, not to ruin it. I know I messed up, and you have no idea how much I regret losing control over certain things because it's the last thing you deserved."

He seemed quite repentant, and that made me feel even worse.

"Do you want to see what's in here?" he said, pointing to the box still on the ground. "I've prepared it for you," he whispered shyly. "I just hope you like it; if not, you can tell me without any problem."

"I haven't bought you anything," was all I could reply.

"It's okay, Di. I prepared all this for you because I wanted to, and also because you deserve it, not because I wanted anything in return."

I tried not to overthink anymore. I sat on the ground, on the blanket and beside the box. With my hands slightly trembling, I started to slowly tear the wrapping paper. Seb sat next to me, too close, giving me an unexpected kiss on the cheek and not bothering to move an inch away from me.

The first thing I saw was a pile of confetti, which I didn't hesitate to push aside, revealing a wide variety of all kinds of sweets, especially my favorites, along with small details of stationary supplies that I remembered seeing in that stationery store and that had caught my attention.

In the center were two small gifts wrapped as well as possible, each with an envelope attached with my name, written perfectly in light blue capital letters.

"This is too much, Seb," I honestly exclaimed, turning to him. "Now I understand why you've been asking me if I liked certain things and then you would return to the stores just to come out with a bag that you wouldn't let me see..."

"I know it's been very wrong on my part, but I think the little scare I gave you was worth it. Just look at the beautiful and happy face you have right now," he revealed, laughing, squeezing my cheeks.

And here I was, thinking he was going to break up with me...

Definitely, I didn't deserve Sebastian Vettel.

"First, you have to read the note from the envelope carefully," the German explained carefully, "and then try to guess what it could be."

"And after all that, can I open it?" I innocently asked, although the answer was more than obvious.

"Of course. Here, try this one first."

He took the rectangular gift and handed it to me. Before reading anything, I started to make assumptions about what it could be, but I was so overwhelmed that I decided to finish my task within a few seconds.

With eagerness, I carefully opened the envelope so as not to tear it because I was going to keep it until the end of time to remember this day, and, with a bit of optimism, to be able to show it to our children someday if we were still together.

"Can you read it out loud for me, princess? I don't remember what it says."

You said that, fortunately or unfortunately, you had finished the first gift I gave you. I hope this second part is as good, or even better, than the first one," I read aloud and clearly. "P.S.: I hope from now on you write more, and better, about me.

I looked up and saw Seb smiling.

"Do you know what it could be?" he wanted to know.

Of course I did.

"Di's diary, part two."

He didn't say anything else although his half-smile had formed almost automatically, saying it all. With a slight nod of his head, he gave me the go-ahead to open it, and so I did. As soon as I got rid of the wrapping paper I saw a notebook that I would now use as a diary, and which, like the previous one, had a plain color and a photo of us after the victory of his first world championship, our first photo, in Polaroid format.

"Seb... I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything yet because there's another one here."

He handed me the second gift. This one had the form of a square and, by feeling it, I realized it didn't have just one envelope, but two. This second one, on the back, was much larger. Before I could take a look, Seb removed it and hid it behind his back, as if he were a little kid not wanting anyone to take away a candy from him.

"First the small one, which is the one you'll like the least," he clarified in a childish tone.

"Okay, okay..."

Just as I did with the previous one, I carefully tore open the envelope, opened it, and read the note out loud:

I see sparks fly whenever you smile. Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.

It couldn't be true.

I was so excited that I didn't even make guesses about what it could be. I tore the paper, now eagerly and with so much force that I saw an album falling to the ground.

As soon as I read Speak now on the cover, and saw a blonde girl wearing a purple dress, I let out a muffled scream.

“Taylor Swift's albums, Seb?! Seriously?!”

Taylor Swift and Fearless were also in the small package, and now the excitement was overwhelming. I screamed like I hadn't in a long time. I stood up, and seeing Seb doing the same, I threw myself into his arms and kissed him like I had never kissed him before, like he truly deserved to be kissed.

"If you're like this over three albums, how are you going to react when you see this?"

Without saying anything else, he handed me the larger envelope.

I hesitated whether to take it or not because his face was totally expressionless, although his eyes hinted that he was eager for me to know what was inside.

Tickets for the Speak Now World Tour. Impossible.

"Seb, tickets have been sold out for quite a while now..." I stuttered, unable to look him in the eyes because I didn't want him to see me cry over this. "You know I've been looking everywhere for months and haven't found anything..."

"Well, but you're lucky to have found a boyfriend who’s a Formula 1 driver and has certain privileges," he said, forcing us to hug each other. "I think you already know how we're going to celebrate the fourth anniversary of the day we met."

"You still remember?"

I pulled my head from his chest to look at him. His eyes were shiny, probably like mine were. The moment I saw him nod was when I couldn't contain my tears, and he couldn't control his either.

"How could I forget the day I met you, Di? It was March 13th, I'll never forget it," I was surprised he remembered, but what could I expect from this guy? "You met me in 2008, and in 2012 I promise you'll meet Taylor as surely as my name is Sebastian. Since we have to go to Australia for the first Grand Prix of the year it's no problem if we leave a few days earlier."

"You must be kidding," was all I could say in a voice so low that only I heard it.

I remained standing even as I saw him sit down and start to open the bag containing the takeout food he had ordered.

"Di, I don't know what you'd prefer first, so I'll put a bit of everything on the plate for you, and if you don't want more, I'll eat it myself or we can save it for tomorrow, okay?"

I sat down beside him, perhaps too close for us to be able to dine quietly and comfortably, but in those moments, I think neither of us cared in the slightest.

"I'm really sorry I didn't get you anything sunshine," I said as I picked up a glass of gazpacho. "Honestly, I completely forgot, and I won't lie to you: I've never celebrated Valentine's Day, so..."

"Don't worry about that, Di. Don't you dare to think about gifts or anything," he interrupted, leaving his plate of food on the blanket and wrapping his arms around me, taking my chin and forcing me to look at him. "From now on, we're going to celebrate everything," he stole a kiss from me and then pulled away. "But I don't want you to give me anything, alright? The best gift not only for Valentine's Day, but for life, is you, and nothing and no one in the world will surpass you, okay?"

"Okay, sunshine."

"Di," he called me a few seconds later as he started eating. "You're the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

I smiled and ate, trying not to choke, enjoying Seb's effort to sing Mine as best as possible while also trying to keep the piece of tortilla in his hands from breaking.

I felt happy, and I was afraid it would be snatched away from me at any moment. I allowed myself the luxury of not thinking about it, and as our voices joined together in unison in the chorus of the song, I couldn't help but think that on days like today, my boyfriend, my partner, the only person who had trusted me to rise in Formula 1, the blond German who had hurt me only to fix it afterwards, the one I risked considering the love of my life, was the one who made everything worthwhile.

[onboardsorasora]

Something something Lewis and Daniel have been on and off fuck buddies. They don't talk about feelings but it's clear to anyone with eyes that some exist.

Daniel is a little more considerate to Lewis and his moods than he is with other people. Lewis always seems Daniel out first when he has good news or updates. As far as everyone is concerned- they're dating.

Anyway Lewis has been feeling like maybe he should say something, maybe make things a little more serious. Because he thinks maybe it's time to stop lying to himself.

But Daniel feels something serious happening, felt the shift. Has been seeing Lewis staring at him with weight in his eyes. Been noticing that Lewis has been spending a lot of time talking to other people.

He doesn't know what meaning is in the depths of Lewis' chocolate stare but Daniel is sure it can't be anything good. Lewis for sure is about to end things- because why wouldn't he? What reason does he have to keep this up, keep their whatever this is going? All Daniel does is have sex with him, make sure he has the brand of oat milk he likes in his fridge and that Roscoe's extra bed and bowls are accessible when they stay over.

So when Lewis puts his cup down on the table one morning while Daniel was eating his morning cereal, he didn't bother to try and tell himself that it felt serious. Final.

"you know I was thinking that we've been doing this a long time and maybe--" Lewis starts and Daniel stands up to go to the sink. Cuts him off.

"yeah it's probably like run it's course I guess?" Daniel said into the deep metal. His bowl sat silently in the bottom.

"what?" Lewis asked, stunned. But Daniel didn't try to parse it. He hadn't expected his chest to feel so tight.

"yeah like, isn't that what you're going to say? I mean it's probably best we cut it. We probably wouldn't be a good fit or something. I think we'd be terrible together or whatever." His hands weren't shaking where they clutched the sink.

"is that what you want? For us to..break up?" Lewis asked slowly, staring at the tense line of Daniel's back. He'd been thinking about how happy he'd been recently and it was George who pointed out that Daniel might have been the source. They've been doing this dance for so long that it was easy to forget that they weren't together.

Lewis wanted to change that to the positive. But he hadn't anticipated that maybe Daniel didn't feel the same.

"isnt that what you want?" Daniel turned on the faucet- aggressively flicking the handle upwards. The rush of water pressure was harsh.

"why won't you look at me?" Lewis looked down at his cooling cup. Flinching at the loud ting of the metal spoon falling into the bowl.

"just-- say what you're saying." Daniel exhaled turning off the faucet and wiping his hands in the terry cloth towel hanging from the stove.

"well if you want to end things so badly then sure." Lewis couldn't believe he'd gotten everything so wrong. He frowned, sad and disappointed that everything turned this way.

"yeah. Ok." Daniel cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He didn't acknowledge the thickness in his throat or the burning in his eyes. He just nodded to the sink and turned to leave the room.

"that's it?" Lewis' voice stopped him and Daniel whirled to glare red rimmed honey eyes at him. "Daniel?"

"it's what you wanted right?" Daniel snapped.

"what I wanted?" Lewis' eyes widened.

"yes! You think I haven't noticed the staring and the extra time apart. The calls taken in other rooms. It's fine- id been wondering-" Daniel snapped his mouth shut.

"I haven't been with someone else if that's what you're suggesting!" Lewis stood from his chair.

"I never said that?!" Daniel scraped at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. He was just trying to get out of this with some dignity in tact. "But you're done with me-"

"who said that?" Lewis looked taken aback.

"you did!" Lewis walked over to where he still stood stiffly and Daniel watched him warily.

"that's not what I was saying." Lewis whispered. He grabbed Daniel's hand to find it shaking. "I love you."

Daniel inhaled sharply.

"I love you and I was thinking that we should make this official."

Daniel's breath shuddered out of his chest. "Why didn't you lead with that?!" He chastised.

"I didn't think you'd immediately like divert to breaking up!" Lewis defended.

"fuck!" Daniel sagged and rested his face into Lewis' neck. "I love you too." He mumbled.

"next time I'll lead with that." Lewis promised, squeezing his arms around Daniel's broad shoulders.

"yes please."

[lazycranberrydoodles]

getting back into the untamed and i had a thought. / follow for more yllz babygirlism

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

part two

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases. 

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 

Almost. 

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him. 

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

 He hums contemplatively. 

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 

“About what?” 

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?” 

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum. 

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you

I love you. 

[ellemj]

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 4

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read part 1, part 2, or part 3 yet, you should probably head that way first.**

Summary: Round two doesn't go quite as either of you expected.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, near somnophilia, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to let me know in the comments if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: I wish I could share the filthy mental image that I have for paragraph 10 of this, but sadly, it doesn't exist. How are we feeling here guys? Also, I'm fckin loving responding to you guys. I didn't expect to be so into it and it's just making me wanna take requests after this even more.

You awake suddenly, your eyes fluttering open and straining to adjust to the darkness around you. You’re on your right side, and as your eyes fully adjust, you realize that you’re lying inches away from none other than Bucky fucking Barnes. You’re already feeling overly feverish, with a flu-like body ache wracking your frame, and a pounding headache behind your eyes, but looking at him and remembering what you did earlier tonight adds a wave of nausea to the mix. How the fuck did the two of you let it get that far? You’re acutely aware of how exposed you are, with both of you having fallen asleep on top of the covers, there isn’t a blanket or anything that you can pull over yourself. You roll over as quietly as possible, moving to sit on the side of the bed and then reaching down to the floor and picking up your discarded t-shirt. You pull it over your head before checking your phone on the bedside table. 11:31pm. You’re three and a half hours in now. The pain that Bucky so kindly relieved for you earlier has returned, but it's rapidly worsening. You steal a glance at him over your shoulder. You’ve never seen him sleep before. Any overnight mission you’ve ever been on either involved one of the two of you being on night watch or, luckily, separate bedrooms. He looks peaceful like this, with his signature scowl missing and a serene expression gracing his features. You wonder if he looks like this every night, or only after sex. Something about the thought of him having sex any night other than tonight leaves an unfamiliar pang in your chest. However, you blindly chalk that pang up to being some random side effect caused by the chemical that’s working hard within you.

            As you sit there on the side of the bed, the darkness enveloping you like a hug from a close friend, you feel it. That deep, unrelenting need to be touched again, to be fucked until you’re so full that the pain you feel right now melts away as if it never existed in the first place. You’re stronger than this. Just lay back down and go to sleep. Maybe if you dream about sex, your mind can trick your body into thinking it’s gotten what it needs and you can get through this without splintering your partnership any further. You can do this. Laying back on the bed as quietly and gently as humanly possible, you decide within yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t need his hands traveling along your searing skin, simultaneously cooling you down and making you feel impossibly hotter. You don’t need his dirty words filling the space between you and dancing around your mind until all you can think about is letting him take everything from you. And you most definitely don’t need his cock. His cock. Fuck, why did you let that into your head? Now all you can think about is the way he reached so deep inside of you, his girthy length stretching you enough that for a moment, the pain of his cock entering you for the first time was the only pain you felt in your entire body. You catch yourself tilting your head to the side to look at him again. He must’ve gotten up at some point while you were asleep to put his boxers back on, and honestly, fuck him for that. You’re left staring at his abs, at the way they rise up and drop back down so subtly with every breath he takes. Your eyes travel down his vibranium arm. You always liked his arm. Hell, you liked it even when it was silver with that damn red star. But now that it’s black and gold, built for strength and stealth, it looks like it belongs on him. Biting your bottom lip, you let your hand run up the front of your t-shirt, your fingertips deftly sliding beneath the collar of it and pulling his dog tags out so they’re no longer against your skin. You run your finger over the raised letters that spell out his name, wondering how many times he’s done the exact same thing himself. It’s almost calming. Or at least it would be if you weren’t currently replaying the moment that he pulled you in by those same dog tags earlier and fucked you until you couldn’t think straight.

            A soft sigh leaves your lips and you know your resolve is crumbling, you know you’re seconds away from doing something you really shouldn’t do. Your thumb traces over the top inscription once more, James B Barnes. Fuck it. You didn’t have a plan when you threw your rational mind out the window, but suddenly you find yourself moving to straddle Bucky on the bed. As soon as your left leg crosses his lap and your drenched pussy is hovering inches above his clothed cock, he begins to stir, a low, pained groan rumbling past his lips. He needs this too, you’re sure of it, and that’s what encourages you to seat yourself on his lap. His eyes fly open now and he looks first at where your bodies are making contact, and then straight up at your flushed face. He’s died and gone to heaven. That’s what’s happened. He’s positive. When he sees you on top of him, wearing only a t-shirt and his dog tags, he has to wonder how yesterday’s mission went so unbelievably right that he ended up here. His hands are quick to find your hips, pushing your t-shirt up a little so he can touch your skin directly. The touch immediately soothes some of your bodily aching and you lean forward, bracing yourself with your hands resting on the bed, on either side of his head. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to gather himself enough to think straight while he keeps his eyes trained on the little silver shapes dangling from your neck right in front of him.

            “Did you need something, sweetheart?” Bucky taunts after a few seconds of composing himself beneath you, a smirk playing on his lips. Even barely awake and caught off guard, he’s an ass. You shake your head and grind yourself down on his already hard cock, the friction making you fight back a moan that’s threatening to rise from your throat. He lets out a groan of pleasure now, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively and his eyes closing.

            “Shut the fuck up, Barnes. Don’t act like you don’t need this too.” You retort, continuing your actions with your hips as you lower yourself down until your face is only an inch away from his. You let the tip of your nose brush against his and he opens his eyes, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “Be honest with me, you offered to do this as some kind of heroic act, but you secretly wanted this.” Bucky swallows audibly and you’re starting to get high off of the effect you have on him. Technically, it’s the effect that the chemical is having on him but you let yourself pretend for a moment that it’s all you. As your breath fans across his lips, he feels an unwelcome anger spreading through him. Anger stemming from the fact that you’d tease your lips in front of him like this, dangle something so tempting right in front of his face yet refuse to indulge him.

            “Think what you want.” He huffs, his grip on your hips loosening and throwing you off guard momentarily. You freeze on top of him, backing away from his face a bit and trying to gauge his mood. He’s obviously horny enough to fuck, as evidenced by the hard-on that’s currently pressing against your soaked panties. Is he just trying to act like he doesn’t want it because you accused him of wanting it? God, the pounding headache intensifies and you scrunch your eyes shut. You really need to stop thinking.

            “What’s got you so pissy?” You ask, sitting back fully on his lap and rubbing your temples with the thumb and middle finger of your right hand in that way that always worries Bucky in the field. You only do it when you’re struggling to make a decision or when you’re severely bothered by something, like bothered to the point of putting a bullet in some shithead’s thigh just to get them to talk. He wasn’t planning to say anything about it, truly. His plan was to fuck you until the only thing you can possibly do is moan his name. But to hell with it. He brings it up anyway.

            “You took my cock so well tonight…” His voice is full of lust and has a teasing air to it, setting your nerves on fire. The way he praises you has your thighs clenching at his sides. “But you didn’t say my name one. Fucking. Time.” Ah, there it is. That’s what’s got him so pissy. You’re learning that he has a possessive streak, which isn’t your problem at all considering you’re not someone he can possess. He can get some other girl to moan his name, but you won’t be doing it.

            “You didn’t give me any reason to.” You snap back. You’re lying. You know it and he knows it. He fucked you until you saw stars and made him promise not to pull out of you. His name was on the tip of your tongue more than once, but you restrained yourself for reasons he’ll never understand.

            “Fine. If that’s the story you want to go with, that I didn’t do shit for you earlier, you can get yourself off.” He says smugly, that damn smirk appearing again as he sits up suddenly, pushing you off of him. You land on the bed next to him as he quickly shoves his boxers down his legs, tossing them on the floor and laying back once again. This time, that little shit lays back and places his hands behind his head in the most relaxed position you’ve ever seen him in. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his cock, where it’s fully erect over his lower stomach and leaking clear drops of precum. Shit. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down on it a little too hard, nearly drawing blood. You arch a brow at him, wondering why he stripped if he’s going to make you get yourself off. Just like he does in the field, he reads your mind from that one look. “You’re going to get yourself off on my cock…or not at all.”

            You can’t say that you’re ashamed at how fast you mounted him and seated yourself down on his cock. You can’t even say that you despised him for making you put on a show for him like that. You lied to him and pretended like he didn’t give you the best sex of your life only an hour ago, so he chose this as your punishment. A punishment that you accepted and used to your advantage, riding the fuck out of his thick cock just like he told you to. At some point, your hands were braced on his chest as you bounced your ass up and down, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix every time you slid back down. This drew sounds from you that could turn any nightmare of his into a wet dream. Once you were right on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night, he was sure you were going to moan his name. Your head was tilted back, showing off all of that open kissable space along the column of your throat with his silver chain still draped around it, and he swears he saw his name flashing behind your closed eyelids. But you moaned out a simple fuck instead, and then you continued riding him until you both came, hard. For the second time tonight, as he empties his cock into your pretty little cunt, you both feel like you’re floating away on a pain-free cloud of euphoria. He glances over your shoulder a few minutes later when he sees you checking the time on your phone. 12:10 am. If his math is right, he may have as little as four hours left to get you to moan his fucking name.  

            Little does he know, that as you drift off to sleep next to him, under the covers this time, all you can think about is fully letting yourself go and moaning his name out while he fucks you in every position known to mankind.

Next Part

TAG LIST

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[gasstationlady]

GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader

drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.

notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.

disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)

masterlist ⋆ previously

yourusername

liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others

yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3

View all 22,504 comments

yourbestie STUNNING

user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭

↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo

↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him

↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA

user love u more than anything

user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together

↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point

↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens

user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍

user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..

thetodayshow

liked by landonorris and 67,298 others

thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡

We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”

Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!

View all 342 comments

user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.

user some of those questions were a bit invasive

↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally

user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭

user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando

↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹

↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview

↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??

↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”

↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡

user y/n handled the situation perfectly

↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy

user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW

ynupdates

41,086 likes

ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!

View all 462 comments

user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭

user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS

user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys

user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭

↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early

↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama

user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?

↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead

kymillman

51,159 likes

kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE

The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com

View all 343 comments

user omg it’s happening it’s happening

user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER

user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is

user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭

user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔

user the hand holding 🥹🥹

user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n

user damn god really out here choosing favorites

user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others

landonorris Singapore 🥈

View all 3,229 comments

user so proud of you lando!!

user AHHHH y/n cameo

user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando

user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹

— — —

8 months later

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others

landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️

View all 24,395 comments

yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips

↳ landonorris 😐

user they're the reason i believe in love

user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo

user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭

user luckiest man alive i stg

user how does she always look so good

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others

yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you

View all 35,719 comments

landonorris that guy's pretty handsome

↳ yourusername very :)

yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy

user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year

user might sleep on the freeway today

user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone

user LOL not the third pic

user i love them so much 🥹

user if you ever break up, love isn't real

[sweets4dolls]

omg im literally obsessed with ur work !! the aesthetics and dialogue and everything is just so chefs kiss :3 this is my first time requesting something so hooray !! i wondering if u could do a bunny! reader with an over protective! alastor? i think he would be the security guard type of boyfriend like thats so yummylicious :D thank you so much and remember to drink lots of water and eat plenty of food !!!!!!

pairing: protective!possessive!alastor + fem!bunny!reader

content warnings: toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, canon typical violence, not proofread, kinda dark!alastor?

notes: but he totally would be thoooo :0 also I just added on possessive for fun oopsies - also, YAY CONGRATSON UR FIRST REQUEST! :D

its in his nature to be protective for people that he likes, so actually being in a relationship with him makes his possessive nature go into overdrive.

although most sinners know better than to try him, there are the occasional few along with some of vox's people that do come after him.

he doesn't like to kill in front of you, he just thinks that you're too cute n pure to witness those sort of acts:(, but don't get it wrong, he's more than willing to rip sinners apart, ready to destroy anything he deems a threat.

that also includes if anything were to say something bad about you, he'd be dragging them away from you and tearing them in two before coming back all smiles.

although he is a gentleman and doesn't like to kill people who he thinks don't deserve it, he'd be lying if he hadn't thought about annihilating some of your friends that he thinks get too touchy with you - if that is the case, you'll end up wondering where they went until alastor comes in, convincing you that you don't need them because you have him!

being so protective, he'd also coax information out of you if he ever saw that you seemed to be bothered, putting on that charming smile of his before he has you spilling your heart out to him.

definitely likes to be by your side 24/7, and at some point it almost gets invasive so you leave by yourself, which he gets very upset at since you didn't tell him first, so. he waits in your room until you get back.

"I thought that you weren't in the mood to go out, dearest bunny?" he says with a hum as he rests in the armchair in the corner of your room, eyes gazing down at you as you chew on your lip nervously.

"just went for a walk is all," you mumbled, hand shifting to grip your upper arm in a comforting fashion.

"to go and see that friend of yours?"

he's worried for your safety, not wanting his precious bun to be kidnapped or killed by one of his many enemies :(

sometimes it leads to fights between you too, you always claiming that you need space from him

"its like I don't have a life outside of you!" you cry, eyes slightly bloodshot from an abundance of tears falling.

"of course you do," a lie, "I just can't have my little bunny getting hurt, can I?" he says in a sweet tone, trying to get you to calm down.

if his words don't work on you, he would leave you to see how hell really was while he wasn't there, leaking information to his enemies on your whereabouts, letting them run after you before he swoops in like the romantic hero of your story that he is and saves you, this time not sparing your pretty eyes from witnessing the carnage he creates.

he takes you back to the hotel, you a mess, weeping in his arms, all frightened and shaking.

"oh, my sweet, silly bunny, how foolish you were to leave without me," he says, nearly patronizingly as he holds you in his arms.

"I'm so, so sorry alastor, you were right," you shakily let out between chest-heaving sobs as you cling to him, afraid to leave his presence for a mere second.

he's always right, he just needs to make you see that too <3

[straykeedz]

Do you think you could do felix with a reader that takes a long time to cum and is super insecure about it but he reassures her that he would love to try and make her cum even if it takes her a long time (and it does) but he actually does it and she's so shocked. Thank you!!!

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; mentioning of faking orgasms ; reader has had shitty exes who made her feel bad ; poor communication at the very beginning ; oral sex and fingering (f receiving) ; dirty talk ; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 2,1k ; ♡

a/n: i’m not suuuper proud of this but i had a lil writer’s block so…. also, i edited this on my phone so it might be shit shxhsh. hope u like this anon!! ♡

this contains smut. minors dni. 18+ only.

Lying in bed, spent and out of breath, Felix wonders what he did wrong.

You didn’t cum, that much is very clear to him. And it’s not that he’s offended or questioning his skills, he’s just really confused about it. He felt you clenching around him, and you did moan just a pitch higher. Did you try faking your orgasm hoping he wouldn’t notice? Did he really fuck you that badly? Maybe he should’ve communicated better, checked up with you more, asked if you were enjoying yourself.

He’d been shoved away from your pussy when he was giving you head earlier, you tugging at his hair to get him to stop eating you out. He’d been lapping at your clit for minutes when you’d muttered out a breathy “I need you now”. Now that he thinks about it, the very same thing had happened when he’d fingered you the first two times you slept together. And you didn’t cum that that day either at this point, Felix is sure.

You’ve slept together twice now and you faked your orgasms both times. Felix feels he should bring this up before it’s too late and it becomes a routine for you. Only… how? He wouldn’t want to make you feel bad about it, he just genuinely wants to understand if there’s anything he could do to really pleasure you the way you deserve.

Coming back inside the room a couple of minutes later after freshening up, you immediately notice that Felix looks lost in his thoughts. Nevertheless, he smiles at you once he witnesses your presence inside the room and pats the empty spot next to him, implying for you to come lie down and cuddle, which you do, resting your head on his chest and throwing your leg across his lap as he covers the both of you.

The room smells awfully like sex, which is a constant reminder to Felix that he has to talk to you. Your relationship is at its early stage, and he wants to talk this through with you before everything crumbles - sex might not be the most important aspect in a relationship, but communication is, and Felix needs you to know you’re completely safe to talk to him. He wants you to tell him if he’s not doing something right in bed.

He really, really likes you and wants to be with you for a very long time, that’s why it’s so important that you trust him with this kind of things.

“Baby?” His deep, hoarse voice vibrates in his chest, “you good? You’re not sore, are you?”

He feels you shaking your head. “Nope, just tired, but I’m good. Are you?”

Physically, yes, but his own brain is killing him with the constant overthinking.

“Yeah,” he just answers while thinking of an efficient way to bring up the fact he suspects you faked your orgasms.

Thankfully, though, you kind of do it for him.

“Did you… did you like it?” You ask timidly, feeling kind of stupid for asking, but the way he looks so deep in thought is kind of making you feel self conscious.

“Of course I did,” he doesn’t sound like he’s lying, and you sigh out of relief when he pulls you closer and kisses your head. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, but Felix knows you’re sugarcoating the truth to him somehow, and he hates it.

“Baby,” he mumbles after a while - a deep sigh follows the petname. “I know you faked it.”

Blood runs cold in your veins. You open your mouth to justify yourself, thinking he’s mad at you or something, but he beats you to it. He sits up on the mattress, and you do the same, however you keep your head down, not meeting his eyes.

“Felix, baby…”

“Before you say anything, I just want you to know I’m not mad at you. I just… don’t understand? I mean, is there something I’m doing wrong? Is there something I can do better? You can tell me, baby. I won’t get mad at you, I could never.”

You shake your head, fidgeting with the hem of your pajama shorts. Taking a deep breath, you shake your head as a no, “you’re not doing anything wrong, I promise.”

“Then what is it, baby?” He asks, voice full of concern - he wants you to help him understand. “I want you to always have a good time when we sleep together. I don’t want you to experience disappointing sex with me and feel like you have to fake it to spare my feelings. We’re a couple, you should tell me if you don’t like something I’m doing. Even- even when I give you oral or try to finger you, you never finish, you just push me away after a couple of minutes.”

The room falls awkwardly quiet after Felix’s words, until you finally find the courage to speak and tell him the truth, even though it’s embarrassing - to you, at least.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you begin. “It just… it takes me a while to, you know… cum. A long while,” you sigh. “You… I like everything you do to me, baby, it’s just… it takes really long, and I wouldn’t want you to get bored or anything.”

“Baby, just… why on earth would I get bored eating you out or fucking you? I don’t understand, you know I’d die between your thighs, baby.”

His words go straight to your core, and you’re sure you’re red in the face by now.

“You say that now. But I can assure you, you will get bored.”

All of your exes did, after all. But if there’s one thing your relationship with Felix has taught you, is that he’s nothing like your exes.

“Baby,” he says in a serious tone, “I won’t,” he assures you. “I know I won’t, and I’ll be honored if you ever want me to try to make you cum, baby, but only if it’s something you want. You know I’d never pressure you into anything, baby.”

“You mean… right now?”

Felix pulls you in his lap, his arms around your waist. “Whenever you want to. If you want round two right now I’m down.”

You’d be lying if you said you aren’t horny right now, especially when Felix’s underneath you, completely shirtless and only in his boxers. However, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. After all, Felix knows you’ve been faking your orgasms and he’s willing to try his hand at making you cum. What if you don’t?

Felix can’t help but notice you’re too much in your own head, so he places two fingers under your chin and delicately lifts your head to meet your eyes. “We don’t have to. It was just a suggestion, baby.”

You shift in his lap and he makes a pained sound, already getting hard. “No! It’s not that. I want to, it’s just… I’m scared to disappoint you.”

He pulls your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ears. “You could never disappoint me. Understand?” He looks you in the eye as he speaks.

You nod. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good,” he whispers on your lips, “now let me eat you out like you deserve.”

Sprawled on the bed with Felix between your thighs, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous as he slides your panties down your thighs, letting them fall on the floor. Felix, however, looks completely enamoured with your pretty pussy.

When he places the first kiss on top of your thigh, your body jolts. “It’s gonna take a while.”

“Relax, baby,” another kiss on your inner thigh, “don’t think too much. Just lie down and enjoy yourself.”

Felix takes his time peppering your skin with soft kisses, all the way until his lips finally reach your most sensitive spot. You squirm when he licks a stripe that goes from your entrance to your clit, and his head immediately snaps in your direction. “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, felt good.”

Felix smirks and licks his lips, licking another stripe on your pussy, and then wrapping his lips around your clit, humming as he buries his face deep in your cunt. He keeps sucking and licking and lapping at your most delicate spot. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, and the wet, squelching sounds he makes are the only thing that can be heard, together with your heavy breaths.

It feels nice, really nice, but you don’t feel close yet. Maybe it’s because you can’t really empty your head and relax like Felix said.

“Felix, baby…” you try to entangle your fingers in his hair, “it’s… it’s okay if you wanna stop.”

Felix shakes his head, with his mouth full of your pussy. “Don’t wanna,” he mumbles, completely pussydrunk. “D’you want me to stop?”

“I don’t want you to get tired…”

Felix chuckles, sucking on your clit harder until you let out a whimper. You can’t see him, but Felix smirks satisfied. “Does it look like I’m getting tired, baby?” He lifts his head to look at you, and you can clearly see your arousal all over his chin, mixed with his spit. “I fuckin’ love eatin’ this pussy, baby. ’s so sweet. So fuckin’ sweet, baby, I could eat it all day.”

He grips your thighs harder, eats you out like a desperate man, very pleased with the moans you let out each time he sucks a little bit harder on your sensitive and swollen clit. Felix smiles to himself when he feels you clenching your thighs around his head, and this time he’s sure you’re not faking your reactions, because your legs are genuinely shaking. You arch your back when Felix inserts a finger inside of you slowly, inch by inch, and then a second finger, while his mouth is still on your clit. Your breathing gets quicker and quicker when he starts moving them in and out of you.

“You like it, yeah?” Felix slurs, fucking you with his fingers slow and deep, stimulating your g-spot over and over again. “You like it when I eat you out while I fuck you with my fingers, huh?”

You nod. It feels different than any of the other times you’ve done this. This time, you feel you could actually cum. “Like it. I like it, baby. Keep going, please. Don’t stop,” you whimper.

“Is my baby gonna cum f’me?” Felix kisses your clit sweetly. “Are you gonna cum for me f’real? Y’re not gonna fake it this time, baby, are you?”

You shake your head, legs desperately trembling - you can practically feel your orgasm, it’s there. Felix is about to make you cum for the first time. You moan when he latches his mouth back on your clit, eating you out and savoring the way you taste on his tongue. Entangling your fingers in his blond hair, you push him into your cunt as you feel yourself releasing in his mouth, arching your back.

“Baby, baby!” You moan, your whole body’s shaking, “‘m… ‘m…”

Your body falls back on the mattress, completely spent, chest rising and falling quickly. Felix pulls his fingers out of your cunt, wiping them on the sheets to dry them as he lifts his head from your thighs. The lower part of his face is entirely covered in your release, and he manages to lick most of it to clean himself, wiping the rest away using the back of his hand before collapsing on the bed next to you with a grin on his face. Circling your waist with his arm, he pulls you closer so that you’re resting your head on his chest.

“I’m… I’m guessing you didn’t fake it this time, huh?” He jokes, breathing heavily himself.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, blushing like crazy. “I didn’t, I really didn’t.” After a while, you say, “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Felix only pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. “Ah, baby. What matters the most is that you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did, baby. I liked it very much.”

“Good,” Felix reassures you. “I don’t mind going down on you or fucking you, baby. In fact, I love it. I’d spend the whole day buried between your sweet thighs, you know that.”

“Are you for real?” You can’t help but ask, lifting your head to meet his eyes.

Felix nods, then his gaze shifts to the large, watch patch on the front of his grey boxers. “Does it look like I’m lying, baby? Now gimme a couple of minutes and I’ll fuck you real good, too, baby, promise.”

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[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Some batfamily headcanon

They all have auditory processing disorder at this point, except for Damian and Duke

Damian is the youngest and Bruce and the others protect him most and Duke uses armor plus his powers makes him a little difficult to get hurt

Dick is partially deaf in his left ear and Tim is partially deaf in his right ear

Bruce and Jason suffer from chronic pain

If Steph or Damian just stopped and went into some blank state for more than two minutes call the most responsible adult near immediately, they are having an anxiety attack (they just freeze and stare at nothing, this is their anxiety attack)

Tim has narcolepsy actually this is why he has the worst sleeping schedule of them all

(Tim's narcolepsy may be undiagnosed, diagnosed but his parents hid the result, Tim refuses to take his medication because he believes he can "handle" it, it's up to you)

Jason, Cass and Damian have PTSD

(all of them have it actually, but these three have the worst attacks)

Dick emergency contact is Donna Troy

and it doesn't matter what the batfamily do or say, Dick is always puts Donna as his emergency contact

Damian emergency contact is Maya Ducard

Damian had a lot of nightmares in him early years, the family takes turns to take care of it

Jason and Damian have intrusive thoughts (hurt the others and hurt themselves, Jason villain era was basically 'I let my intrusive thoughts win' ) - today Damian handled it better than Jason did in the past (Jason I love you, but I will never forgive you for what you did to Mia Dearden)

Bruce created a lot of personas for his work and because of it Dick created the "hamburger theory"

If he accepts the hamburger and eats it with both hands it's Batman; if he starts eating his hamburger with fork and knife it's Bruce Wayne; if he's holding the burger with a napkin and smile it's Brucie; but if he rejected the hamburger just run, it's not safe near him in that moment

Dick made this theory when he still was a Robin and this is some 'don't tell dad' information between all of the kids

They usually share information with Cass in audio to help her understand, Babs still helps her with how to read but she prefers to use emojis or audio messages

Cass may or may not respond to their audio, but she will view it

Bruce and the others have no clue about Dick real health status because the only person who has legal rights to it is Donna and she doesn't share with them

One time Tim tried to steal Damian medical records to put in their data, he found out that Maya already did that and now she is the only person in the world legally allowed to have that information

Both Dick and Damian don't regret their decision because they really trust in their sisters more than the bats

(and yes, Bruce feels breyated because of this)

14!Damian is still a little afraid of sleeping, because he doesn't know what kind of dream he might have (he doesn't have nightmares like he used to, but the anxiety is still there)

Duke and Damian usually hang out more than the others; one time Steph asks why in the common channel and Duke only answers "you know that me and him are basically immortals, right? When everyone leaves, we'll still be here" (Duke is immortal because of his powers and Damian... Do you really think his family would allow him die?)

No one knows exactly the kind of shit Damian was submitted in the league and as Tim falls in get his medical records they'll never knows

The same applicants for Cass trying, what exactly Cain did with her is something she'll never tell

Jason actually has amnesia from his league days or some kinda of weird and very selective amnesia, everything just looks like a blur to him

Jason believes that he was hypnotized to forget everything or some weird magic stuff. But on some nights, in the silence of his room, Jason still seems like a fat baby lying near him, he wonders who is the baby and who they are now...

Some days, because of his chronic pain, Bruce uses a cane to walk around the house, but only inside

[skzdarlings]

chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin

masterlist.

threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.

summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.

pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.

enjoy <3

-

Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call.   You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom.  You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends. 

You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces.  Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis.  You don’t know what you would do without them.  Just the thought has you sniffling despondently. 

After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other.  Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.      

You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears. 

“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails. 

“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.

Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces.  At least you think so.  It is hard to see through your tears. 

“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says.  At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”

You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it.  You sniffle and pout. 

Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.” 

“What?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Huh?”  Jeongin says.

You blink away your tears and look at them properly.  They are the very picture of concern.  They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips.  Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.  

These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic.  Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you. 

You drop your face and cry some more.  They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down. 

“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed. 

“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”

“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs. 

“Me too,” Hyunjin says.  Their sour faces speak volumes. 

“What!”  This distracts you from yours tears for a moment.  “You guys told me you liked him!”

“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says.  He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head.  He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you.  “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”

“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says.  He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter.  He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically.  “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says.  “You’ve always got us.” 

At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head.  He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves.  Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face. 

You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life.  They are still looking at you with concern when you surface. 

“Sorry,” you say.  “The point is, my mom would ask about him.  You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.” 

You love your family, you do.  You do not regret using visiting your parents.  The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight.  You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city.  You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends.  Your parents are proud of you. 

They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement. 

You are not in a relationship.  You have never been in a relationship.

Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious.  You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern. 

You try to show grace.  Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night.  Which is not true.  Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed. 

To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit. 

“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while.  After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”

“Uh oh,” Jeongin says.  Hyunjin grimaces.  Yeah, your friends know you well.  They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going. 

“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say.  “My mom invited me out here for their summer party.  They throw one every year to start the season.  They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids.  It’s huge.  I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do.  Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”

“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?”  Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow.  Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine.  “It’s not funny.  I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”

“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control. 

“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say.  “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me.  I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!” 

“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly.  “What did you say exactly?” 

“I just said he was busy with work,” you say.  “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up.  I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.” 

“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says. 

“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal.  “That’s the problem!  And also—”  A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again.  “I know it’s so stupid.  We’re all grown-ups now.  But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along.  My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it.  They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.”  You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving.  It makes you feel like that little girl again.  It only worsens your angst.  “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say. 

“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says. 

“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says.  They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt. 

“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.    

“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds. 

“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed.  “At least a little bit.  I know it’s silly.” 

“It’s not,” Hyunjin says.  At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.”  They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other.  It makes you laugh through your tears.  You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say.  “I just have to face it.  It’s my own fault.  Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”

“You’re perfect,” they say in unison.  It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once. 

“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat.  “You’re our girl.”

“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says. 

“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says. 

“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases.  “He’s kinda stupid too.”

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice.  Jeongin sticks his tongue out. 

Their antics make you laugh.  You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen. 

“Okay,” you say.  “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed.  It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.” 

They both smile at you.  They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else.  They are your boys.  They are all you need. 

You go to bed with a smile on your face.

-

That smile is gone the next day.  You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning.  Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety.  Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises.  You claim he is still working but you are optimistic.  You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would. 

At least you look pretty.  You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish.  If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully. 

You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them.  You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.

Here goes nothing, you think. 

You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests. 

They come in waves.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends.  You greet everyone pleasantly.  There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else. 

You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend.  Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group. 

“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says.  She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying.  It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions.  This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party.  “Is he going to be here?” she asks.  “I can’t wait to meet him!  He’s your first boyfriend, right?” 

You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth. 

You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. 

“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say. 

Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.  

“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat.  You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house.  You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it.  You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath.  Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on. 

You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips.  It catches when you see who is standing there.

“Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision.  Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him.  His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look.  It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket.  A silver chain sparkles around his neck. 

He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself. 

“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says. 

You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush.  You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down. 

“Oh, wow,” you say.  “You shouldn’t have.  But you look really good.”

Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots.  He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body. 

“Yeah,” he says on a breath.  “You too.”

Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him.  It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled. 

“Stop that,” you say.  “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me.  And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here.  I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.”  You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard. 

Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good.  Okay?” 

You very literally fall into the yard.  Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright.  You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest.  He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.

“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave. 

“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn.  She immediately starts hollering for your father. 

“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you. 

“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin.  “Oh, I’ve heard so much.  No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything.  Tsk, crazy girl.  Always with her secrets.  But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome!  Look at those dimples.”

“Mom!” you wail.  “Stop pinching his cheeks!” 

Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt.  It is the girl from before and she is grinning.  He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you.  You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not.  Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin.  A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up.  You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes. 

In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again.  You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.

“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts.  “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair. 

“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself.  He takes her hand and pats it affectionately.  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you.  Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile.  You refrain from smacking your forehead. 

At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse. 

Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile. 

“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you.  “Your boyfriend is here!  Everybody, this is Hyunjin.” 

Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago.  Now, it freezes solid.  It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut.  You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you. 

You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father.  Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket.  He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin. 

Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you.  Hyunjin looks at you.  Your mother looks at you.  Everyone looks at you.

“Um,” you squeak.  

Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting.  And why is it so hard to swallow?  Where is your tongue again?  Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.

You clear your throat and look up.  Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.” 

“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him.  He blinks at her.  Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight.  His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity.  Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother.  He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one. 

Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two.  No, not even, because they are fake.  You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends.  That must be a feat. 

“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence.  She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce.  “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you.  Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle.  “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically.  “Oh, that’s just like her too.  You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact.  Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university.  You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”

“Mom!”

Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time.  You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin.  He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks.  They watch as your mother takes your hand.  “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details.  But it’s a brave new world.  There’s all sorts of different loves out there.  I’ve been reading books!” 

“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party.  “We would never judge you for who you love.”

“That’s great,” you say.  This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people.  “Thanks,” you say. 

Your father is holding barbeque tongs.  He claps them in the air and smiles.

“Great!” he says.  “Who’s hungry!”

-

It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin.  It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard.  Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. 

You slam the door shut.   

“Seriously!” you shriek.  “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!” 

They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet.  They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door.  You cover your face with your hands.  “This is insane.  My life is a joke.  Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.”  You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered.  You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong.  When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table.  He smiles nervously.  “Sit down,” you say, unamused.   

Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time.  They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom.  Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy.  The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on.  It’s not.  No.  No.  You refuse. 

“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says.  “We should have checked first.  With you, at least.”

“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head.  “I feel really embarrassed.  You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”

“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.

They keep speaking in their defense.  You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology.  It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you.  The complete opposite.  Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do.  From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything.  No task has ever been too big or too small.  If it’s for you, they will do it.  You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.  

They are your boys.  You are their girl.   

“I’m sorry too,” you say.  “In fact, I’m even more sorry.  This whole thing is my fault, after all.  I should have never lied in the first place.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says. 

“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds. 

“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him.  It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins. 

It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it. 

It’s no good.  Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless.  The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you.  When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering. 

“Come here,” he says. 

You take his hand and he tugs you towards them.  You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower.  Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek.  Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.

Not just your face.  Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower.  Your toes even curl. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says.  He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?” 

Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.    

There is a moment of tense silence after this.  You look between them and they look at you.

You all jump when there is a knock at your door.  Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor.  Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised.  You sit straighter.  Hyunjin groans and rubs his head. 

The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.  “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night.  But right now we have company.  Come spend time with the guests.  Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool.  Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”

No one gets an opportunity to even answer.  She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came. 

There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?” 

“Ow,” Hyunjin says.  “I think I bruised my elbow.”

“Oh my god,” you say.

-

You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets.  When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.   

You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty.  Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it.  You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows.  You smile affectionately. 

“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting. 

“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.    

You giggle but also drop your gaze.  Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys.  Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display.  When did he get so damn fit?  He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now. 

Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow.  He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean.  His hair is also damp.  You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears.  He really is absurdly good looking. 

You blame the heat under your skin on the jets. 

“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers.  His foot nudges yours under the water.  “Is that them?” he whispers. 

You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there.  A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction.  It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about. 

You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly.  You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water.  You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys. 

You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod.  You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you.  You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest. 

“What is it?” you whisper. 

“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile.  “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?” 

“Oh,” you squeak.  “I suppose that’s true.”  You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin.  Your heart is pounding against your hands.  The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy.  “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice.  Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends. 

Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets. 

Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question.  Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy.  Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile.  He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him.  It is a teasing expression.  It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water. 

He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface.  And it is a grab.  Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover.  He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things.  But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes. 

Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck.  Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control.  Your mouth falls open with surprise.  Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in. 

Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not.  His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm.  He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips.  You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his.  That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder. 

They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong.  You melt between them, all heat and need. 

You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire.  His eyes are dark, lids heavy.  You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face. 

You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about.  “Get it girl!” someone shouts. 

“Oh my god,” you say.  Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed.  Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him. 

You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.

“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.

“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively.  “We’re all making out in a hot tub.  Of course I’m hard.” 

“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss. 

You look over your shoulder.  Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.

“Hyunjin!” you cry. 

“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply.  “Are you saying you’re not turned on?” 

“I—hmmph—you—no!”

“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head. 

“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him.  He just smiles at you.  “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?” 

You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever.  You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you.  He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again. 

“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh. 

-

You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day.  The guests have all gone home.  Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight.   You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility. 

Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt.  They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear. 

You did not bring much sleepwear.  You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room.  You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone.  Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten. 

You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference.  You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.

“Good night,” you say. 

Hyunjin turns off the bedside light.  The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards.  Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position.  You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence. 

You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow.  You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head.  There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says.  You feel him roll onto his side, facing you.  “You didn’t kiss me.”

You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment.  But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again. 

You shake your head and look at the ceiling.

“Yes, I did,” you say.  “What should we do about it?”

“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says.  You look at him.  He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?      

“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin.  “Only because that’s fair.” 

Jeongin does not hesitate.  He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be.  Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head.  He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips. 

You quickly lose yourself.  Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling.  Yes, falling helplessly head over heels.  You have been for a long time. 

You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds.  Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots.  His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours. 

That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass.  Your breath catches and the kiss breaks.  He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours. 

You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder.  Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised. 

“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back.  You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin. 

You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body.  His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest.  You arch your back instinctively.  Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts.  It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you. 

Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing.  You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality. 

In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you.  But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging.  You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap.  He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you. 

You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel.  He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used.  You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness.  But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there. 

Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass.  Your shorts are riding up from your position.  He could get an eye-ful at the right angle. 

“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice.  It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity. 

It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again.  Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant. 

“What do you think about?” he asks.

You make a noise back at him.  It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled.  You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh?  Think about?”

He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer.  You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator. 

“Hyunjin!”  You cannot help but scold him.  “I told you to stay out of there!” 

“You know I like to investigate,” he argues.  “I can’t help it.” 

“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead.  “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”

Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face.  He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face. 

“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape. 

Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile. 

“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks. 

You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest. 

“That’s none of your business,” you say.

“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk.  He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes.  “If you think about us,” he finishes. 

“I—no—you—”

“It’s fine,” he says.  “It’s normal.  I think about you.” 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp.  You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is.  You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed.  Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up.  He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth. 

“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry.  I bet you’d look pretty.” 

You swallow hard.  Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy.  You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin. 

“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”

“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases. 

“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him.  He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently.  “Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand.  You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them. 

“My friends are perverts,” you say. 

Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch.  Jeongin is sitting upright behind you.  You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks.  Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye.  He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick.  They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh. 

You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back.  You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband.  You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear.  You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.

“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile.  “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.” 

“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands.  He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise. 

Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck.  He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective.  You squirm a little.  The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close. 

The boys shuffle quickly.  You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest.  Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture.  You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast.  You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this.  Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time.  You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.

It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up.  You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm.   He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks. 

When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy. 

The room feels very quiet when the toy stops.  You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom.  Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.

Hyunjin follows your line of sight.  He grabs the bear and turns it around.

Okay. It’s fine now. 

You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly.  He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour.  Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down.  They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear. 

You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his.  When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again.  Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips.  Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in. 

You are caught by surprise when you come again.  Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms.  A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms.  Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy. 

Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face.  You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek. 

“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says. 

You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth.  It goes easily.  In the end, they follow your lead.  You know your boys.  They would do anything for you.  They would start.  They would stop.  

You do not want them to stop. 

“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence.   Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet.  Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin. 

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks.  He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them. 

“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer.  “Please.” 

“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple.  He smiles at Hyunjin.  “Since you asked so nicely.” 

You all tumble over, laying on your sides.  Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you.  Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist.  You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.

Then it feels like their hands are everywhere.  Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin.  You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside. 

“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs. 

“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him.  Hyunjin shoves him back. 

“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick.  “I’ll get her ready.” 

You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you.  If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there.  You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you. 

Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves.  It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back.  Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you. 

“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest.  You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand.  He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.

It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him.  He nods to Hyunjin.

“Move,” he says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead.  He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off.  You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed.  He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin. 

“Your turn,” he confirms.  They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you.  You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in.  He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations.  It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan. 

“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands.  You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly.  You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it.  But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future. 

You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”

“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you.  Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes. 

You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out.  Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back.  He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed. 

“You can swallow,” he says.  His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it.  But you gaze up at him and swallow.

And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs.  You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy.  Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations.   Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time. 

They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting. 

“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard.  “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this.  Two boyfriends is no joke.” 

The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel.  When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep. 

-

Your parents return at lunch the next day.  While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish.  She is practically beaming at you. 

“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says.  She kisses your forehead.  “I heard you on the phone the other night.  I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”

“What?!”  You look at her with alarm and surprise.  “But – but you didn’t say anything!  You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”

“Of course!” your mother says.  “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend.  Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog.  Easy.  Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her.  And you found two.” 

Your mother wraps you in her arms.  You are still surprised but you hug her back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says.  “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone.  But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”

“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up. 

“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle. 

You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh. 

“I knew it,” she says.  “Sometimes fate just needs a hand.  Maybe two.” 

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away. 

“You are glowing this morning.  Maybe I should get another man too.”

“Mom, please!”  

[t4rt4gl14]

Cockwarming the genshin men and watching them squirm 😻😻 in public or not is fine [drool]

#.c0ckw4rm1ng…

-> 𝙁𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 : DICKZ!! — diluc. itto. childe. kaeya. zhongli. [ BONUS : PANTALONE !! thoma. xiao ]

☻ — 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : mndi. DARK CONTENT AHEAD. FEM!reader + c0ckw4rming duhh 🙄 + edging + sub!reader & dom!reader + spanking + degradation + praise + brat taming + body praise + hickeys <3 ( giving and receiving ) + kinda public s3x ? ( diluc — childe — kaeya ) + b3lly bulge ( itto — pantalone )

A/N : y’all 🔥 I ADDED PANTALONE AS A BONUS cuz i didn’t know if i could write him well 💀 but first time 4 everything ig

DILUC !!

🌀 — here you are, sitting on his lap, his chest snug against your back, you patiently wait for him to do his paperwork whilst you sit on his lap however you cannot ignore the pleasure pulsating yet unsatisfying as you sit in your spot with dilucs cock deep inside of you. your soft gummy insides make him want to bend you over and pound you right there and then but he convinces himself to sit still so the pleasure will be fucking delicious later on. “d-diluc..please move! i cant~ i wanna feel good”, you whine with a small frown on your face, “i wouldn’t want to punish you dove, now do a small favour and keep your lips sealed as i finish off this paperwork, i assure you once i am finished you’ll be in bliss.” and he wasn’t lying..30 minutes later he’s destroying your insides, reaching so far inside as you he uses you like a personal fleshlight..you’ve no choice but to take it and enjoy it like the good girl you are!~

ITTO !!

🌀 — “c-cupcake m’sorry just for a little while more, m’kay?? my good girl”, his thick cock stuffed inside of you, reaching all the deepest places, you knew it was big but not this big. “itto! please m-move mmmghh!”, your pleads and cries fell on deaf ears just as he snuggled up to your hips even more, biting and nipping at your neck whilst you tug on his horns, at which, the bulge becomes evident at some point especially when you sway your hips back and forth, just yearning for some sort for friction! even when you scratch and claw at ittos back- he still can’t help himself. is it wrong that he’s been edging you despite no punishment being deserved, in fact you’ve been good to him the entire week! but he can’t help it!! the tightness of your gooey cunt, the unexpected contractions and squeezes, you two might be here for a while <33

CHILDE !!

🌀 — well i must say this is a punishment for you both, whilst he signs off his paperwork and you patiently sit there with his cock nudged inside. so big that it presses right up to your cervix and each time you cry and beg for more, the tears cascading down your flushed cheeks, he only tuts and adds on 10 minutes, patting on you the back, occasionally he’ll allow you to move, a thrust or two just to edge you tease even more but that’s about it however he admires your patience and courtesy..constantly reassuring you that once your punishment is over he’ll fuck you so good that you won’t even remember your own name. the thought alone causes you to contract around him— if childe were not holding back he would’ve cum long time ago- painting your inside a pretty white but none the less he holds it all in just so he could torture you more ! <33

KAEYA !!

🌀 — kaeyas only intention was to have you sit on his lap whilst marking knight of favonius paperwork however the plans seem to have diverted..now both of you are here kissing each other, practically snogging, you wonder when you’ll take a break for air although it seems as though it’s not needed. the tip pressing right up into your sweet spot which only causes you to tighten, “s-snowflake-! a-angh you’re c-clamping down mm~”, and it’s only a matter of time before kaeya sets all the paperwork to the side and place your back gently on the table, railing you and claiming your insides as his own. which we all know, eventually leads to your cunt being so full that his seed leeks out whilst some sloshes inside <333

ZHONGLI !!

🌀 — despite handing over his gnosis to the fatui and attempting to live the rest of his life as a mortal— he still gets such symptoms of when he was rex lapis; for example! the horns and even a tail can be seen from time to time but only when he’s extremely horny…and today he demanded you to sit on his lap and take it all in despite it being much larger than usual! if you whined, he would only shove his fingers down your throat and order you to be quiet, “such sluts do not have the right to whine. let alone disrespect an archon”, however for your sake, he’ll rub your clit ever so slowly just so the pleasure doesn’t die down but only increase >:)

☆ BONUS ☆

-> PANTALONE !!! : edging with pantalone is certainly something. he’ll keep smiling with that ‘innocent’ smile of his even when you’ve been sitting on his cock for hours. massaging your tummy, pressing down on the bulge just to make you even more sensitive, he just loves it when you arch your back, the way your face contorts- it turns him on so much! he wonders how long you’ll be able to stay in this position until you break.

-> THOMA !! : thoma is so cute! his skin etched red as he tugs on the ropes, gaze clouded with lust whilst eyeing your body, the spot where you two connect- wondering when you will move; just do something..anything!! move up or down or back n forth! he doesn’t care he just wants to feel good :( his cock engulfed by the warm of your sweet cunt. thomas completely at your mercy just to be your good boy~

-> XIAO !! : xiao is just skfbjsdbsn, cheeks flushed as he hides into your neck, his precum smearing across your gummy walls whilst he clutches onto your shirt, almost tearing it. you could hear the slight mewls and whines even when he tried hiding, biting his lip found no avail so eventually in the end he just attempted to get you to move…which only caused you to prolong the time of his punishment— truly you show no respect for the adepti >:(

TAGGING : @kxisuke @itthoee @currysrealm @leathernourishingshoepolish @stygianoir

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You Will Stop the Wedding! - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.260 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And they just found out that someone was you.

Jamil was not present at the Housewarden's meeting, since he isn't one. But it didn't take long for Kalim to tell him, especially because he was panicking. He starts saying loose sentences about ghosts, kidnapping, marriage and especially your name. Jamil gets very serious and asks Kalim to stop for a few seconds, calm down a little and explain things clearly. And if that doesn't work, he has a plan B: ask one of the other Housewardens. Riddle would be an excellent choice.

After fully understanding what is happening, he himself panics for a moment. But then he clears his throat and calms himself down. He asks, no, he orders Kalim to stay safe in Scarabia while he joins the others in the rescue groups. When Kalim tries to convince Jamil to let him help them, Jamil gets straight to the point and says it's dangerous, both for him and for you. Does he really want to risk ruining everything? It's your life that's at stake here! Jamil was being harsher than usual, but Kalim knew why, and promised that he would stay in Scarabia hoping that everything would go well. He would behave well for Jamil and for you.

However Jamil is too cautious to simply believe him. So most likely, without Kalim noticing, Jamil will put him to sleep or something with some spell or with his Snake Wisper. You know, just in case.

Jamil asked to be in the last group. A little like Azul, he is the type to first analyse all angles of the situation before forming a more appropriate plan.

When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Jamil tells one of the others to do it. He always managed to show himself as a good strategist and someone who conveys the confidence of a leader, so the others just followed this order without questioning much. His behavior showed that he seemed to have a plan in place. He ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.

He could follow the plan, but he knew himself well in this regard. He is good at hiding his true feelings, but he is not good at showing feelings that are antagonistic to his true ones. The princess would definitely notice this as she noticed some of the others' strategies. For these reasons he had a plan B, but still wanted to try the original plan.

“Your majesty, you must stop this wedding. You are taking with you someone who doesn't want to be with you. If you don't marry someone who loves you back, both of your lives... afterlives? will be miserable. And that's why I'm here. Please accept me as your husband and I promise to do everything in my power to make your afterlife wonderful.” Everything was going well, until he proposed to her husband.

The princess said out loud the same thing that you also noticed. In these sentences his emotion almost disappeared, showing that he was lying. And she accused him of trying to deceive her.

Jamil sighed. He was now forced to follow plan B, which he never really likes to follow. Be honest.“You are correct, your majesty. I was lying. But-” Before he could continue speaking the princess ordered the guards to catch him. And he had a plan for that too.

He managed to dodge all the ghost guards and was heading towards the altar where you and the princess were. But one thing wasn't part of his plan: One of the guards turning into a giant ghost. Obviously he still tried to fight and did his best, but he still lost against the guard. As soon as the guard caught him, the princess wasted no time in slapping him, she didn't want to hear his excuses.

However, Jamil remained able to move. Everyone gasps, including the princess. When the guards ask what's going on, the princess says it can only mean one thing. The thing is that her slap is capable of petrifying anyone, except those who have already found their true love. The reaction from all NRC students is like "What the F-?!" And Jamil’s reaction was to lower his head to try to make his hair hide his face.

Then he lifted it again, with an upset and slightly obscured expression on his face. He really hated exposing himself like that, but at that moment, it was his last shot to save you. “Do you want the truth? I'm here for someone, yes, but not for you. I'm here for the person you kidnapped to force to be your partner.” She starts to say that she didn't kidnap or force anyone. “Your delusion disgusts me.” The guard shakes him, threatening him not to insult the princess.

But now the princess is interested. He was there for you? So why did he ask to marry her? “Because we had a plan.” Jamil admits, as if he's had enough and just wants to resolve everything once and for all. “Making you accept one of us as a husband to put a ring on your finger that would send you to the afterlife.” The princess is offended and feels attacked by that. And while she and the guard start to say how outrageous that is, Jamil looks at the princess again, but this time with a condescending look.

“If you're going to take someone with you, take me then. Let (Y/N) go. Let me go in their place. From a young age I learned that part of my job would be to be willing to give my life for someone. Let me give my life for someone I lo... care about, then.” He couldn't fake something like this that well.

And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. Having someone willing to give their life for you like that. This was the greatest proof of love anyone could give. How she wished she had someone like that for herself too. And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself and say that he would give his life for her, after all, technically, he had already done so.  And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

As soon as the guard releases Jamil, he runs to you. “Are you well? Are you hurt?” You were petrified, but shortly afterwards you could move again. Jamil never left your side until the ghosts left.

After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Jamil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He couldn't look at you, and he was trying to hide his face with his hands or his hair. He had practically already declared himself to you during all that madness. So you decide it's your turn to tell him that you feel the same way about him. He looks at you in surprise and you can see how flattered he was.

Knowing now that your feelings were mutual, he becomes kind of smug. “Does that mean you would give your life for me too? That you would serve me if necessary? *chuckle* Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. Unless you don't mind.” You say you would, at least, kiss him right there and then. He holds you by the waist. “Be my guest.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[darkbluekies]

Silas & Dr Kry drabbles: releasing knock-out gas to capture you

Mafia!yandere OC x doctor!yandere OC x reader

Warnings: mentions of basement punishment, mentions of breaking reader, bimbofication(?)

Silas:

You've locked yourself in his office after Silas threatened to throw you into the basement. Him and his men has gathered outside the wooden door. His men want to shoot the door open, but Silas doesn't want any of the bullets to go through and hit you.

"Baby, I'm warning you", he chuckles and feels the door handle. "You're just making it worse for yourself! Come out now and I'll be nicer to you."

Liar. You look around desperately for something to protect yourself with, knowing that he'll find a way in sooner or later.

Silas turns to his men and lowers his voice. "Get the sleep gas."

They nod and run. Silas stretches his neck. He doesn't need the sleep gas, but he's has enough of your childish outbursts. He would rather do everything calm and quietly instead of having you kicking and screaming over his shoulder.

"Y/N, if I were you I'd walk over to the couch", he says. "Or else you'll have a concussion. Your choice."

The men return with the gas and start to pump it under the door. Silas can hear how you gasp and take a deep breath. He chuckles. Do you really think that you can hold your breath and avoid it? Silly thing.

It doesn't take long before he hears your body hit the floor. Silas smiles cockily. Once again, he wins.

"Now, shoot", he says and signals for his second in command to shoot the lock. "They're on the floor, no bullets should hit them."

The second in command shoots the lock until the door bursts open. Silas sees you lying on the carpet, knocked out cold. Of course you didn't listen to him about hitting your head. He walks over and sinks down by your head. Carefully, he caresses your cheek with his rough hand.

"You stupid little thing", he whispers and picks you up in his muscular arms. "You just never learn your lesson, do you? Have to make me do all of this to teach you where your place is. My dumb baby. "

Your head automatically slump onto his shoulder. Silas breaks out into a smile. He adores the feeling of having you in his arms — especially when you're not struggling or throwing punches at him. He walks past his men, towards the basement stairs. This time, he'll break you.

Dr Kry:

You’ve locked yourself in a medical supply closet to prove a point to Dr Kry. You know everything about the poisoned air purifier. Normally, he'd unlock the door and grab you, but not this time. Not when you're this frantic. Not long after you can hear a heavy knock at the door.

“If you don’t come out now, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, Y/N”, Dr Kry says warningly with his forehead pressed against the door. "I don't think you want that!"

You look around, but there's nowhere to go. No window, no door, no vent. Panic sets in.

Dr Kry goes to get the gas, figuring that it'll be easier to unlock the door without you butting in. If you start to scream and cause a scene, the other doctors will be suspicious ... and stick their nose in Dr Kry's business. Maybe even take you from him. The thought makes him shudder. They'll misunderstand. You're just scared, nothing more.

He returns and start to pump it under the door.

"Don't be alarmed, Y/N", Dr Kry says. "Just take deep breaths for me and I will get you out of there shortly."

"No, no, no!" you panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

You try to unlock the door, but he forces it shut. He changes his mind. You're going to pay for your actions. You have to learn from your mistakes. It's for your own good.

He waits for a minute before he pulls up his keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. You're lying on the floor in your hospital gown, fresh tearstains on your cheeks. Dr Kry picks you up in his arms and sit on the floor for a moment, just to feel your wonderful body. He rests his head on yours, sighing. You're too scared for your own good. He has to take better care of you.

"Let's get you back to bed", he says, knowing that you can't hear him. "I'll restrain you, you don't have to be afraid of yourself anymore. I'll take every measure to make sure you're safe."

Dr Kry kisses your forhead and stands up, walking back to your room.

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter Two: Bad Dreams

[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]

[Ch. One]

Summary: You realize, while asleep, that just because you're out of the facility doesn't mean you're completely free. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, mentions of blood and vomiting (nothing too graphic), Angsty Simon Word Count: ~3.5k (don't quote me on that) A/N: Was gonna wait to post this, but it's on my AO3 already (i posted this first ch. a couple days ago on there, but am just posting it here now) so i wanna post it here too. I have Covid, and time to write, so why not post it now? Hope you enjoy~ The angst is only going to pick up from here tbh

You toss and turn in bed. Your covers are strewn across the room and you’re sweating. Your eyes are screwed shut as you lie there whimpering. You can’t even force yourself awake.

“You are not acting very nice.”

Your gaze does not even meet the scientist’s. His eyes bore into yours, but you can not force yourself to look at him. Instead, you stare at the floor. Your mind is racing, you are everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Did you hear me?” He asks. You nod. “Then act better.” He marks something down on his clipboard and you watch him closely now. “Next time, there will be no warning. You will be punished.”

You nod again. Your hands rest on your thighs, gripping your bare thighs and shaking violently. Your whole body is shaking. At this point, you can’t think of a time you weren’t shaking. Your eyes cut from the man’s hands and up to him. You see the reflection of the bright lights of the lab in his glasses. You sniffle slightly.

“You look sick.” He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours. You don’t look away this time. “After all this-” He motions around him. “That won’t happen anymore. You won’t have to worry about silly little sickness or your immune system at all. You know, after all of this, you will be the best.”

If it works, You think. You are almost certain you should have died by now. You have absolutely no clue what they have been injecting you with. You know it makes you sick. That’s about the extent of your knowledge. Well, you also know, you can die at any given moment. Whether the medicine or the guards around you takes you. Something can happen any time, and you just have to let it happen.

You remember lying in your ‘room’, throwing up blood and bile. No one checked on you. Not until the next round of testing. They gave you nausea medicine and you only hoped it’d work. Now, you're staring down the scientist who has ‘stuck by your side’ through all of the experiments. He is the only one who survived, you think. There have been several others. But you only saw them once or twice.

You aren’t sure if or how they died. You don’t like to think about it.

“We are going to test pain tolerance today.”

You perk up, in the least enthusiastic way possible. It caught your attention and set your skin ablaze. What does this entail? You can’t help but run through scenarios in your mind. The scientist pulls out a smaller syringe and places a needle in it. It’s full of a clear liquid. You don’t move. You’ve learned it’s best to not move.

He motions for you to hold out your arm. You do so, willingly. You’ve also learned it’s best to do as you’re told. He injects the needle into a vein and you try to stay relaxed. You whimper and shut your eyes. Suddenly, everything is on fire. Your body burns. A scream releases from your throat and you fall from the metal stool you had been sitting on. You curl up, clawing, scratching at your skin.

You begin to beg, “Please!” You scream for someone to stop it. “Please, help me!”

“Don’t worry,” His voice is so monotone. “It’ll pass. This is completely normal.”

You sit there, screaming and crying as the pain grows worse. You wonder if you yell loud enough if the guards would step in. But, so far, no one has stepped in. No. One. You can’t count on anyone. Not anymore. Your clawing slows down, the burning subsides. You relax and let out a small whimper. You sit up and inhale slowly. You slump over and look up at the man in front of you.

“Better?” He asks. You nod. “Good, now get back up.” You follow his instructions. “Now, I have a scalpel here. I’m going to poke you-” Your eyes widen. “-I’m not going to stab, or cut deep. I’m just checking pain levels.”

You sit back on the stool and hold your arm out again. The man grabs the scalpel from the side table and pokes into your arm. Blood rises and drips down. You feel pressure from the poke, but nothing else. You don’t react. You soon find out, maybe you should have.

“Hm, nothing?” Everything seems to be going according to plan for him and whoever was coordinating this. “Okay, next test.”

The scalpel is dug into your skin. Dull pain comes to the area, but you aren't feeling anything you should be feeling. You are too startled to scream. Blood rushes down your forearm and your eyes widen. You have learned to not pull away, so you stay there.

“Astounding…” He grabs the gauze from the small table and wraps your arm. “We will continue testing this in the morning.” He motions for some guards to come in. “I have to make sure that this… This is permanent.”

“If it’s not?” The words slip out.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

The words, his tone, they send chills up your spine. You are grabbed, harshly, by the guards and pulled into the hallway, out of the little, ‘cozy’ lab. Your eyes adjust to the dim lights of the hall and you squint. You are dragged to your ‘room’. The guard flashes his card in front of the door and it slides open. They toss you in, you hit the floor. There is no pain this time.

You want so badly for that to be a good thing. You can’t help but feel sick to your stomach though. You crawl to your mattress and lay down. You don’t even have a cover. You sigh. You curl up and go to sleep.

You wake in a cold sweat. A scream rips from your throat and your body tenses. Your breathing is ragged and a knock is coming from your door. You look towards it. You examine your surroundings. You exhale trying to calm yourself.

“Ace!” The knocking becomes violent.

Your brows furrow. You stand from your bed and walk towards the door. You swing it open and find Gaz standing there. His eyes lock with yours, before falling to your sweaty, sticky form.

“Who’s Ace?” You ask, not caring that he is probably staring at your chest.

“Sorry,” He mumbles and tries to close your door. “I shouldn’t-”

“No,” You swat at his hand, opening the door further. “Who is Ace?” A cool breeze hits your bare legs and you realize why he’s being so funny. Your mouth forms an ‘o’ and you step back. You remember that you’re wearing your tank top and panties. You grab your shorts and throw them on. “I’m Ace, aren’t I?” You finally ask.

“That is… Was your call sign.”

You notice Gaz swallow hard. You can’t help but wonder what has him so shook up. He had to have seen some thighs and cleavage before. It registers, he must not have seen yours. You make note of that.

“It’s okay, Gaz,” You reassure him, “I promise it’s fine if you look at me.” You’re trying to not laugh. You can’t help but smile though. His eyes cut from the floor and up to you.

“Are you laughing at me?” He asks, you can see him grow embarrassed and irritated.

“You’re being silly,” Your smile widens. You watch Gaz relax. You cock your head. “Acting like I’m the first pair of thighs you’ve seen in your life.”

Gaz groans. “You don’t like-” He stops himself. “You used to not be comfortable with us seeing you like this. I don’t wanna overstep any boundaries.”

“You’re very sweet, Kyle.” He lights up as you call him by his name. “I do remember being that way though… I had always been that way ever since I can remember.” Which isn’t very much, you decide it would be best to not joke about that though. “But, I guess becoming a little lab rat kinda nipped that in the bud.”

Gaz doesn’t ask further questions. “I came to check on you, because you’re thirty minutes late.”

“Let me guess,” you purse your lips, “I used to never be late.”

Gaz is at a loss for words. “Well, no! You and Price were always first at debriefings.”

You note that as well. “I guess I need to change?” You question him. Gaz keeps from dropping eye contact. You are sure you need to change. Going to whatever you needed to go to, with nothing but a tank top and shorts on would probably not be the best look on your first real day back. “I’m fucking with you, Gaz.” You turn from him and he huffs. You grab some clothes from the dresser. Gaz excuses himself and you decide it’s best to not fuck with him further.

As he closes your door, you begin to mentally prepare yourself for what the day holds. You know you’ll be digging up old memories. You know recent wounds will resurface. You have to prepare now. You run through different questions and answers.

You're on autopilot as you get dressed. You finish up and walk back towards your door. You swing it open and find Gaz waiting. “Oh, you’re still here.”

“Figured you’d need help finding the room. Unless you don’t-”

“No, no,” You interrupt, “I don’t- I don’t know where the room is.” Having to admit that hurts. Gaz catches that. He doesn’t say anything further. You follow him down the hall and through a corridor. You reach a double door and Gaz lets you in first. You spot Price, then Soap, then Ghost. Every last one of them seems uncomfortable.

You walk into the middle of the room and stand there. The door closes behind Gaz and he walks up beside you. You stand there waiting for anyone to say something. No one breaks the silence, so you decide to.

“I don’t think I like sleeping alone.” You look at Price. “I haven’t- I didn’t have a roommate in the-” You keep stopping yourself. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a roommate. I don’t know how I'd react to one. But I can not sleep alone.”

Price nods. “That can be fixed.” He is reassuring. “We'll get you set up with-”

“I want it to be one of you.” You interrupt him. All of them tense. “I know I don't remember much of anything… but you four seem to know me the best. I want it to be one of you four.” You nod to yourself as you say the last sentence.

“Do you have a preference?” Price seems like he isn't judging who you pick, but you can't help but feel like they're all judging which one you pick.

“How about-” You place a finger on your chin. “We could alternate?”

“Alternate sleeping arrangements?” Ghost speaks up.

“That can be arranged.” Price nods. “We can talk more about that later. We really need to figure out what you do know.”

“Easy,” you shrug, “I know I have a mom and dad- We moved a lot growing up. I know that I used to be self conscious.” You remember this morning.

“Used to be?” Soap asks.

“Well, yeah, being stuck in a lab changes a person.” The whole room becomes uncomfortable. “Sorry…”

“It's alright, love,” Gaz pats you on the back, and you look at him. You don't tense. You don't attack. You just stare. Your stomach flips out how he says ‘love’. “But that's not what he meant. Do you have any information on what was happening?”

You inhale slowly and close your eyes. “Okay. I don't know where I was. But I do know people came and… uh went. A lot. Do I know where they went? No. I'm assuming the guards took care of them. It was too important for people to just come and go as they pleased. The experiments were too-” You pause. “Classified. But the scientist that was with me when Soap saved me, that was my main scientist. I never got anyone's name. They said I would get, uh, stuff like that if the experiments fully worked. I'm not sure they ever had it work though-”

“On others?” Ghost interrupts. You nod. “There were others?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. I overheard a couple times, of different,” you pause again, thinking of what they called you, “subjects just… dying. In reality, I don't know why I'm not dead. I also believe there were more because I was dubbed Subject Five. There were, I assume, four before me. Unless they just wanted to call me Five.” You shrug, growing uncomfortable. “I do know, for a fact, they were only getting military personnel.”

“Dae ye ken how come thay picked ye?” Soap is about as uncomfortable as you are now.

“Not entirely. But the scientist had said that I was compliant. I was… pliable, that is the word he used when I walked in for the very first round of testing. He didn't want me. He made that very known. But he had me, so he did everything he could to make everything work. It wasn't always smooth. But,” you shrug, “it is what it is.”

You see Ghost shift. He looks angry. It's making you more uncomfortable. “What do you mean, it wasn't always smooth?”

“The testing was extensive. The amount of times I've been poked and jabbed is unknown at this point. I mean,” you roll your head to the side, exposing your neck, “I have little scars littering my body from… everything.”

Price can tell you're growing tense. “Have you eaten this morning?”

“Not hungry.” You respond, trying to seem as normal as possible. “But, I would like to shower… I haven't had a hot shower in, uh, four months. I only ever got cold ones.”

“One of us can show you where-”

“No, no,” you wave your hand, “I saw it earlier. I'm sure I can find it myself. You four probably have a lot to talk about. I'll be out of your hair now.” You force a smile.

You exit the room and head back to your room. That probably wasn't going to be your room much longer. You grab some clothes and head towards the showers.

Your head hurts and you want nothing but to sit in hot steam and scrub yourself under scalding hot water. You make your way into the showers and find it empty. You sigh. You go into one of the little showers and close the door. You turn on the water and relax as the warmth hits you. You groan and roll your head back. It's the nicest you have felt in months. ——————————— Simon has not felt so angry in so long. He wants to find who did this to you and kill them. Every single one of them. The way you had seemed to shrink when talking about what happened. How you look to be a shell of your former self. And how you probably don't even remember your former self.

“What do you mean we are going to alternate sleeping arrangements?” Johnny asks. Simon wants to know how it’s going to work too.

“That’s up to her.” Price finally says. “I’m assuming she’ll pick one of us to stay with during the night. We can change it every night. Or however often she needs.”

Simon needs you to pick him. But, he also hopes you don’t. Your last interaction with him has seemed to have left a horrible taste in his mouth. He wants to protect you so badly, still. Maybe you don’t need it now, or anymore. But he has to. Even if you don’t remember what happened.

“Simon,” Price’s voice is low, soft, reassuring. “This is not your fault.”

“You keep saying that.” He growls. “You weren’t there. I was. End of story.”

Simon plays the night over and over in his head. Every day. Ever since you were taken. The night at the safe house. It was you and him… It could have been him they snatched up. But it had to be you. He can’t stop thinking about how differently it could have been if it were him they took. He isn’t so pliable… His blood is boiling.

“Ghost,” Johnny speaks, bringing him back down, “she’s okay now.” He places a hand on Simon’s shoulder and tries to reassure him. Everyone is so reassuring… Simon wishes they would stop. He isn’t used to not being able to contain himself. And yet, here he stood. Seething. Ready to bash the heads in of anyone who even thought about bringing harm to you. He can’t take it.

“Fuck this.” He needs to clear his head. “I gotta go.”

Price, Johnny, and Kyle let him leave. Simon thinks maybe a hot shower would help him as well. He inhales deeply as he walks towards the showers. The door swings open and Simon realizes there is only one shower running. Good. All he can hear is water. Steam covers the room. It’s practically a sauna. The water stops running.

Then he hears it. Soft humming. A hum he knows he’s heard before.

Memories are flooding back. Your fingers running through his hair, his head on your chest, and your soft hums the only thing he can hear. Suddenly he can’t breathe. He’s frozen. He’s moving in autopilot momentarily. He’s making his way towards you. He spots you. A towel is wrapped tightly around you and your back is to him. Your hums turn to singing and Simon reaches you. He opens his mouth to speak and he realizes too late he has startled you.

He’s reaching for your shoulder when your hand grabs him. You swing him around and slam him into the concrete wall. Every bit of breath is knocked out of Simon. Your hand is on his throat and your eyes are dark. Simon notes they’re way darker than he’s ever seen.

“Oh. It’s you.”

“You’re in the men’s showers.”

Simon watches as your face drops. You look around. “No one was in here. I didn’t- My brain was too foggy.”

Simon’s hands are up. He relaxes as you let him go and his eyes don’t leave yours as you fix the towel covering you. His eyes briefly drop and he looks at the scars littering your skin. You were right. They’re mostly smaller scars, but there is one on your forearm, right under the bend of your elbow. There was force behind that one.

“Should have let us show you where it was.” He smiles under his mask. You look embarrassed. “I’ll make sure no one comes in, if you wanna get dressed, love.”

It slips out. Naturally. He tenses as the word leaves his lips. Love… His back is to you as you get dressed. He does not dare peek. As he begins to relax, words leave your mouth causing him to tense all over again.

“Ghost?”

He wants you to call him Simon. “Hm.”

“Gaz called me ‘love’ earlier too… I know it’s a British thing, but the way you both said it-” Simon tenses as you pause. “What were we? All of us?”

Simon really does not know how to answer that. He can easily tell you about him and Johnny, or about Price and Gaz. But you? Fuck, it was confusing. He didn’t entirely know what you were with the others. But he did know the both of you were close. But, never like that…

He says your name. His eyes shut. “That’s complicated.”

“Hm…” He hears you hum. “You can turn around now.”

Simon turns to find you approaching him. You’re dressed and holding your towel in your hands. “Sorry about earlier… I don’t know what happened. I didn’t know it was you-”

“It’s fine.” Simon motions for you to walk in front of him, letting you leave before him. He watches you closely. He wonders if you can feel his eyes on you. If you can, you don’t say anything. Simon wants nothing more than to reach out, rest his hand on the small of your back, and walk you to where you’re going. He refrains.

“I’m sort of hungry now…” Your words bring Simon back. “Can you show me to the cafeteria?”

Simon nods, “Of course.”

He walks in front of you. His body begins to lead the way, while his brain is stuck on you slamming him into the wall. He can’t stop thinking about it now. Processing it. You looked absolutely feral, and a little terrified. He tenses, his fingers curling into his palms, as he thinks about what happened to you to make you that way.

Simon doesn’t want to have to go through the pain of remembering certain things. But he hopes that if you do remember who snatched you up, that you will tell him who it was. So that he can cause them just as much turmoil.

[vixstarria]

Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.  

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.  

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.  

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it. 

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group. 

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.  

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.  

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.  

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.” 

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.  

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?” 

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said. 

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck. 

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.  

Shit. 

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.  

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said. 

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!” 

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.  

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.  

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart. 

“We have a system,” Tav replied.  

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart. 

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day: 

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.  

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.  

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted? 

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...   

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso. 

Then she stirred.  

Shit. 

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer. 

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist. 

Perfect... 

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort. 

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.  

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart. 

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.  

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.  

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.  

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.” 

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale. 

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap. 

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued. 

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.  

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.  

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.  

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.  

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further. 

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.  

It couldn’t have meant anything.  

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.  

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.   

And then everything that followed after... 

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins. 

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous... 

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.  

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy... 

‘Yours’ 

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.  

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted. 

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.  

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.  

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.  

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.” 

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed. 

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.  

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. 

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..? 

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.  

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious. 

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.  

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow. 

Nothing.  

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers... 

You were laughing.  

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!” 

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme. 

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.  

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.  

“What have you got there?”  

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.  

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered. 

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?” 

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.” 

“To the hilt?” 

“Is there any other way?” 

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.” 

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound. 

None of them want me there. 

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Delightful. Simply delightful. 

“It will be funny!” 

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.” 

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick. 

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips. 

Not in the least. 

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice. 

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.  

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.  

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.” 

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap. 

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire. 

You would endure the prattle of your companions.  

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.  

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.  

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders? 

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

[amentomensmut]

first time for everything pt2

Drug Dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 5k

this is part 2 to my fic first time for everything! read the first part here.

Summary: After an unforgettable hookup with your friend Sara’s drug dealer, Mike Schmidt, you go to a college party to try and put a stop to your constant stream of thoughts about it, and more specifically, him. However, when you wind up bumping into the man you had been thinking about non-stop at the party, you can’t help but give in to the one person who started it all. 

Warnings: 18+ content, so much banter. Like, so much. Mike is a smug bastard, alcohol consumption, swearing, kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, unprotected sex 

Note: we are so back. also i really hope you guys like this omg. (p.s. sorry that this part has no cannabis use in it. I know that’s like kinda the whole point, but with the story i wanted to tell i couldn’t find a place to put it and i didn’t just want to shove it in randomly so i sorta just left it out.)

Like smoke filling up your lungs, Mike Schmidt has infiltrated your mind in every way possible. 

Thoughts of him invading every corner and crevice of your brain, making them impossible to shake. To say the least, ever since you had the pleasure of meeting him, your mind has been rather occupied. 

His lips on yours, the smoke from his mouth permeating your own, his hands on your body, your skin on his skin—it's all too much, you think. In fact, if you could go back and erase the entire interaction, you would. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about, and it’s all Mike Schmidt’s fault. 

You wonder if he thinks about you too. You know it’s probably unlikely, but you can’t help but feel like he might. Like he also dreams about it. Like he also yearns for you again. Maybe he gets off thinking about it, like you do. You shake those thoughts away, however, when you come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t as special to him as it was to you. 

"Okay, Y/n, what the fuck?” Sara's voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you.

You whip your head around to see Sara standing behind you. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and her face is painted with a worried expression. 

“What?” you respond, confusion evident in your voice.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for 20 minutes.” Sara says it with an accusatory tone, like she caught you doing something you shouldn’t be. 

“I’m just thinking.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. I mean, you’re not lying. You were trying to do your homework, and then you started…daydreaming. Thinking. Whatever you want to call it. 

“Yeah, I know. Thinking is all you’ve been doing this week. What’s going on?” Sara sighs, and you can see the genuine concern in her face. She sits on your bed next to your desk, trying to meet your eyes. You have a hard time lying to her, and catching her gaze will only make you more vulnerable, so instead, you choose to stare down at your homework. 

“This isn’t like you. You’re the most studious person I know, and you can’t even focus enough to finish a couple questions. Tell me what’s going on.” She continues. You weigh your options. You could tell her you fucked her drug dealer. She couldn’t be that mad, right? Or, you could keep it a secret, but continuing to lie to her is the last thing you want to do. You let out a deep breath and just decide to bite the bullet.

“Okay, um, remember when I went to your drug dealer's house last week?” You wearily start. Sara nods her head, signalling for you to continue.

“Well, one thing led to another, and we kinda, sorta had…sex?” The room is silent after your confession, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When you look over at Sara, you expect to see disappointment or anger on her face, but instead, she's looking at you with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.

“I knew it!” Sara exclaims, jumping up in a rush of excitement. 

“I knew there was a reason that you were practically glowing when you got back from his house!” You groan at her loudness, putting your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment. You should’ve known she wouldn’t have been upset with you; she practically shoves you at any man who gives you some sort of attention in the hopes that you’ll break your introverted habits. “Wait,” she excitedly adds. “Does this mean you can get me a discount?”

“No, Sara, I can’t fucking get you a discount. I haven’t seen him since it happened.” You say, and you try your best to mask the disappointment in your tone. I mean, what did you expect? That he’d come running to you the next day, get down on one knee, and propose? You knew it would most likely be a one time thing, so why were you so upset about it?

“So that’s why you’ve been so out of it this week. Plagued by the thoughts of a good fuck. Trust me, I've been there. ” Sara sighs dramatically, shaking her head like she knows this feeling all too well. 

“I don’t know... as cheesy as it sounds, I sort of can’t stop thinking about him? It was so good, and now it’s all I think about.” You admit, and Sara takes her place back on the end of your bed. She takes one of your hands in hers, and she nods her head in an understanding manner.

“You know what you need?” She says, and you shake your head, "No.".

“To get your head out of your chemistry books and go to a goddam party! No wonder you’ve been thinking about him; all you’ve been doing is thinking.” She says, motioning to the copious amounts of school-related papers on your desk. 

“Trust me, Y/n. The best sort of remedy for this kind of thing is to just let loose and forget about all your shit for a little while, you know?” As much as you’ve tried to avoid parties and distractions during your college experience, you can’t imagine there’d be much harm in going to one party. Besides, if you can get your mind off of Mike for a few hours and just have some fun, it’ll be worth it. 

“Alright. Yeah, I think you’re right.” You say, and Sara jumps up excitedly as she begins to talk about one of her good friends that is throwing a party that night, and that it’ll be the perfect excuse to get away from all stress of exams. You nod along, a smile plastered on your face as you try to match Saras excitement. You’re not quite sure if this “remedy” will work or not; however, you’d just about try anything at this point. And like Sara always says, you’re a hermit, so this will be a good way to break you out of your shell. I mean, the last time Sara told you to do something, it ended up going better than expected, so what’s the worst that could happen?

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

“Sara, I feel like I’m going to flash someone.” You say as you pull on the hem of your very mini skirt. The walk to the party wasn’t long, but your bare legs are cold and you’re itching to get warm. You’ve never really worn something as revealing as this, but Sara insisted you wear something from her wardrobe. 

“Your skirt isn’t that short; don’t be dramatic.” Sara teases as she leads you towards a house that's booming with both music and people. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. You haven’t been to a party during your time at college, and to be honest, you weren’t ever planning to. Focusing on getting your degree without any distractions was always your goal. An unrealistic goal? Maybe, but it had been working well for you up until a week ago. However, things don’t always go as planned, and now you’re stepping into a house full of sweaty, inebriated bodies and music so loud it makes the entire house shake. The air is thick and humid, and you’d get lost in the house’s dim lighting if it weren’t for Sara’s hand in yours guiding you through the sea of bodies. Your shoes stick to the floor as you walk through the house, and you know alcohol drunkenly spilled from overflowing, cheap solo cups is the culprit. Sara drags you to the kitchen, where all the alcohol is stashed. 

“We should do a shot! To commemorate the first party of your college career!” Sara yells over the music, already pouring each of you a shot of tequila. You give a little laugh at Sara’s enthusiasm, and you nod your head in agreement. As you wait for Sara to hand you your drink, you notice just how many people there are. You watch through the kitchen window as someone throws up on the lawn. You wince a little at the sight and at the thought of how much alcohol they probably drank. You briefly wonder if going to this party was even a good idea, but you try to shake away any negative thoughts. 

“Babe, you’re thinking too much again.” Sara says, waving her hand in front of your face as she passes you the shot. 

“Sorry!” You half-yell, but Sara dismisses your apology with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be sorry, just have fun!” Sara replies as she effortlessly downs her shot. You also attempt down your tequila; however, it’s not as effortless, and you grimace at the sharp taste of the tequila on your tongue. It takes everything in you to swallow it without gagging, and you wish you had something to chase it with. 

“Fuck, that’s awful.” You groan as you pull a face. You don’t typically drink alcohol, and when you do, tequila is certainly not your first choice. Sara laughs and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“That’s what makes it good!”

The next hour or so goes by pretty smoothly. You’ve essentially been following Sara around like a lost puppy, accompanying her as she greets her friends, which feels like just about everyone at this party. You watch as Sara effortlessly navigates the room, her laughter ringing out above the chatter and deafening music. As you stand alongside Sara, watching as she converses with a group of people you recognise as being on the school's soccer team, you feel a wave of insecurity wash over you, like an invisible barrier separating you from everyone else. You feel out of place at this party, and in a way you are. You haven’t been to a party in your three years at school, and now you've realised that you barely know anyone around here. You haven’t seen one familiar face, other than Sara, in the past hour and a half since you arrived here. You begin to wonder how different your college experience would be if you just got over your fear of people and parties, and went out like Sara had. You try to dismiss your destructive thoughts, but it’s no use. You feel like somehow everyone knows that you’re not really supposed to be here, and it makes your throat feel dry with anxiety.

“Hey, Sara, I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” You loudly whisper in her ear, trying not to interrupt the conversation she was currently in. You’re anxiously wanting to get away from the crowd, and your body language shamelessly shows it as you bounce your leg and bite the skin off your lips.  

“No, I’m okay,” Sara says, and you watch as her eyes survey your body, her eyebrows knitting together. “Do you need me to come with you?” She bends down to speak in your ear, although her words are slightly slurred, and you softly giggle at the way her alcohol intake has affected her speech.

“No, I’ll be okay.” You assure her as you walk away from the group, giving Sara a little wave as you make your way to the kitchen. 

You had intended on getting a drink, but when you got to the kitchen and saw the door to the backyard, your desire to escape the muggy, stale air landed you on the back patio instead. Your lungs thank you for the fresh air as soon as you step outside, and the cool winter breeze feels refreshing on your sweaty skin. There’s still plenty of partygoers outside, but it’s certainly not as packed as it was inside. You watch as people play beer pong on a ping pong table on the lawn, and the sight only solidifies your fear of missing out. The sound of hearty laughter and the smell of weed only make you want to go home more, and you sigh as you push off the patio railing to leave. You turn around to make your way back inside when you see him.

At first, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you. Like you had been thinking about him so much that an apparition of him was here to taunt you. Like your thoughts of him for the past week had now turned you delusional. However, his eyes lock with yours, and now you so badly want it to be a hallucination, or your mind playing tricks on you. Dread washes over you and you wish you had never come to this party. You want the ground to swallow you whole when you see him beginning to walk towards you, and for a split second, you consider running away. 

You mean for your words to come out nicely; you truly do. However, they don’t come out that way, and instead you say this:

“What the fuck are you doing here?” If your words shock or hurt Mike, he doesn’t show it as he now stands in front of you with that goddamn smirk on his face.

“I have a business to run, Y/n. But you’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” You’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap him, but you roll your eyes anyway at his smug tone. He gives an unbothered laugh at your attitude and actually, you’d definitely rather slap him right now.

“Your business is selling weed to intoxicated college students?” You retort with a scoff, crossing your arms against your chest like it’s a defence mechanism. You hate that his presence is making you jittery, but you hold your ground, your eyes never veering away from his.

“Funnily enough, they’re my top customers.” Mike smugly says, and you don’t even try to hide the scowl on your face. You squint your eyes at him, trying to read his intentions. He smells like weed and spicy cologne, and it immediately brings you back to his house, and more specifically, his living room. There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and before you can work up the courage to say something, he speaks again. 

“Cute outfit, by the way. Have you dropped the innocent act yet?” He asks, obviously satisfied with his words. He's clearly trying to get under your skin, and you won't let him.  

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” You fib, shrugging your shoulders like the question is irrelevant. If he's going to try to tease you about your hookup, you won't feed into it. 

“You know, after that night, I don’t think you can really call yourself a good girl. You’d be lying to everyone. You're lying to me right now.” 

“Fuck you, Mike.”

“You should come by my house tomorrow. You're probably all out of the weed I sold to you last time you were around, right?” He says nonchalantly, changing the subject. You furrow your eyebrows at the change of conversation, and your stubbornness to let Mike have any satisfaction during this conversation doesn’t falter.

“I don't smoke weed.” You quip.

“Lie all you’d like, Y/n. It doesn’t change the truth.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face before walking back into the house without giving you another look.

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Usually people use the phrase “walk of shame” when you’re walking home from a hookup, however, that phrase pretty much sums up how you feel as you walk up Mike Schmidt's driveway.

You’re not sure how you’ve ended up back on Mike Schmidtd’s doorstep again. Maybe it was the satisfying sting of weed going down your throat and into your lungs, or the insatiable hunger for the man who supplied it to you. Either way, the front door is being opened and the man who you’ve been thinking about non stop for the past week is behind it. 

“Had a feeling you’d be back.” He says with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you’re high before any weed has even entered your system. 

“Don’t cream your pants.” You mutter as you push past him and walk inside. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know why you were here, you both knew. After Mike left you at the party, you knew you were completely and utterly fucked. That any other attempts of trying to forget him would be worthless. That like a bee to a flower, you’d be back here, in Mike’s house, searching for the one thing you had been denying yourself for the past week. 

“So I was right then, you’re all out of weed.” He says as he closes the front door. You take your jacket and scarf off, hanging them on the coat hanger at the door. You face Mike, who's currently leaning against the front door, watching you. 

“Can I have a soda?” You ask, and Mike cracks a smile at the familiarity of the situation. 

“I would’ve offered, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be here.” He says, trying to bite back his smile. You follow him to the kitchen, watching as he grabs two cans of soda. Your fingers brush as he hands you the cold can, and you look up at him as he clears his throat.

“So…an eighth again?” He inquires, looking at you over his can of soda as he takes a sip.

“Mike, I’m not here for your goddamn weed.” You laugh. Mike laughs as well, and the exuberant sound is like music to your ears. 

“So you came for my soda instead?” Mike teases, and you shake your head with a smile.

“I think you know why I’m here.” You say, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of what happened last time you were in his house. Your fingers tighten around the soda can at the thought of touching Mike again, and you so badly want to reach out for him.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. You weren’t very nice to me last night at the party.” He smirks, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the kitchen counter. He places his soda can on the kitchen counter and tilts his head at you, waiting for your rebuttal. 

“I was nice enough.” You simper, shrugging your shoulders. If he’s going to make you work for it, you’ll play along. 

“Say please. I can’t believe I have to teach you how to use your manners.” He coos, and you huff when you realise you won’t get what you want right away.

“I'm very polite.” You stubbornly stand your ground, but you can feel your resolve weakening with every word that comes out of Mike's mouth.

“You might be polite, but apparently you forgot how to ask for things.”

“Please, Mike.”

His lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. All the build up from the past week, all the sexual tension between you and Mike is released into the kiss. The kiss is frantic and needy, like even being this close isn’t enough. His want for you shows in the way his rough hands grab any part of your body they can reach. You blindly slide your soda can on the kitchen counter before threading your fingers through his hair, softly pulling at the root making him moan into your mouth. He tastes like cream soda and weed and his hands caressing your body send a shiver up your spine, and you haven’t felt this way since the last time he touched you. 

“You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you.” He says in a gruff voice as he walks you backwards and lifts you up onto the kitchen counter. You spread your legs so he can slot himself between them, and he presses soft kisses into your neck. His hands are on your waist, stabilising you as he kneads the soft skin there. 

“I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.” You shyly admit, and he softly bites your neck, almost scolding you for your words. 

“Are you serious?” He asks incredulously, removing his head from your neck to look at you. His heavy lidded gaze makes you feel nervous, and his reaction makes you feel like you said something you shouldn’t have. Your silence serves as an answer to his question and he shakes his head at you disapprovingly as he slowly gets on his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You suck in a quick breath at the sight of Mike in between your legs, and an involuntary whine escapes from your lips when he begins to undo the button of your pants. 

“Y/n, the only thing i’ve been able to think about is you.” He groans, and you lift your hips off the counter to help Mike as he pulls your pants down over your ass. Your pants hit the floor and Mike is pressing open mouthed kisses into the insides of your plush thighs. He takes his time, kissing and sucking on the expanse of your thighs, and you think you might go crazy if he continues to tease you. Your thighs slightly close around Mike’s head, looking for any friction you can get. Mike lets out a laugh and you throw your head back in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you’d like?” Mike innocently asks, looking up at you as his mouth gets dangerously close to your pantie clad pussy. A sadistic smile paints his face and you put your hands in Mike's hair, trying to pull him closer to the place you need him the most.

“Mike, stop fucking teasing.” You pant, and a dissatisfied sigh leaves Mike's lips.

“I thought we talked about using your manners.” He mocks, and although he's the one on his knees in front of you, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s certainly still in control. 

“Please, Mike. Please, I need you.” You beg, and not long after, Mike is licking a hot stripe up your covered cunt. You bite your bottom lip, your chest heaving as Mike continues to press messy, open mouthed kisses to the wet spot on your panties. His grip on your thighs is strong, and the feeling of his blunt nails digging into the soft skin makes your head spin. Soon enough, his thick fingers are hooking into your underwear and pulling it down your legs. He wastes no time, quickly latching his lips to your swollen clit and making out with your pussy like a man starved. Your jaw drops in pleasure, and your hand tugging at his hair makes him moan into you. 

“Mike, h-holy shit.” You cry out, as he enters one of his long fingers into you. His tongue swirls around your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, and the sounds of him eating your pussy are absolutely sinful. Mike replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your clit in slow circles as he slowly enters another finger into you.

“You’re so tight.” He mutters, and his eyes are glued on your soaked cunt and the way it sucks his fingers in. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them upwards, hitting a spot that makes you jerk your hips upward. 

“M-Mike, I’m gonna-” You start, but cut yourself off with a moan as Mike reattaches hip lips to your clit. With his fingers rapidly moving in and out of you, and his mouth doing god's work on your clit, you swear you’re starting to hear colours. Your thighs begin to shake as you start to grind yourself on Mike's face as you near your orgasm. You let out a loud moan as you finally release, the only thing you can feel is the pure pleasure surging through your body as you cum, and Mike coaxing you through it. Your breathing is heavy as you come down from your high. Mike removes his fingers and mouth from your pussy, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he stands back up in front of you. 

“Open your mouth.” He softly demands, and you do, letting Mike shove his cum covered fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, humming as he lets his fingers travel to the back of your throat, making you gag. “That's it.” He praises, caressing your cheek as you suck his fingers. He removes his hand from your mouth and places them on your hips, helping you off the counter. He turns you around so you’re facing away from him, and he presses a hand to the centre of your back, bending you over the counter. He presses himself into you, and pushes your ass back against his covered erection. Mike leans over you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull you up against his chest as he brings his lips to your ear.

“How could I forget about you when you look like a fucking angel when you cum.” He confesses in your ear, bucking his hips against you as he releases you, letting you fall back over the counter. The sound of him undoing his belt and pants makes you involuntarily clench your legs together, and you turn your head, watching as Mike spits in his hand and strokes himself a couple times before lining himself up with your pussy. 

“Have you been thinking about this?” Mike taunts, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit. 

“You have no idea.” You whine, pushing your hips back in an attempt to just get Mike to fuck you. However, Mike holds your hips steady, restraining you from grinding back on him.

“Enlighten me, then.” Mike responds, like he has all the time in the world. But to you, it feels like the end of the world with the way your pussy is throbbing and in need of stimulation. A defeated sob leaves your lips at Mike’s teasing, 

“All the fucking time, Mike. I felt like I was going crazy.” You babble, and your words seem to be good enough for Mike, because he’s filling you up with his thick cock. All your thoughts, any worries you’ve had over the past week are gone. The only thing you can focus on is the way he fits perfectly inside you, and the way the grunts and groans leaving his lips sound like perfect melodies to your ears. His hips snap into yours roughly, and you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I couldn’t get high without thinking about you. You fucking ruined weed for me.” Mike admits with a laugh, like the whole thing is preposterous. His fingers work quick circles on your clit and you shiver as Mike places a hand under your jaw, lifting you so he can press kisses into your neck.

“Good. Maybe you’ll smoke it less. It’s bad for your lungs.” You breathily tease, and Mike sucks a particularly dark spot into your neck in response to your words. Mike continues his rough pace, and you clench hard around him.

“Gonna cum.” You whine and Mike only continues to fuck you, wanting to get you there. You cum for the second time, your body jerking as the overwhelming sensation hits you. Mike holds your shaky body up as he cums inside of you, letting out a strained “fuck” as his own orgasm washes over him. You both stand there afterwards, catching your breath as Mike release slowly begins to leak out of you and down your thighs. 

“Did I seriously ruin weed for you?” You hoarsely ask in a disbelieving voice. You feel Mike’s chest rumble as he laughs, and actually, you think his laugh is the most perfect sounding melody.  

“Trust me, It’s embarrassing to admit.” He says, and you let out a quick breath as he pulls out of you. He grabs a cloth out of a kitchen drawer and runs it under warm water in the sink before cleaning up the cum between your legs. He tucks himself back into his boxers before pulling his pants up, and you follow suit. 

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.” You jest as you button your pants. 

“Maybe.” Mike says with a smile, and when you look at him, you think you wouldn’t even need weed to get high. You’d just need this feeling.

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