#he does smile more the longer he has friends I promise

[zillychu]

human form reveal! he wears his hair in a variety of styles, which include: whatever Sam or Tuck want to do that day (if left alone he will simply do nothing and get it caught in everything)

[freedomfireflies]

Whiplash*

Summary: The second part to Knockout*

The one where Harry does something dangerous in the shadows, and he'll do anything to keep you out of it.

Word Count: 9.4k (again...so sorry)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, slight blood kink, slight pain kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

There’s no protocol for what to do when a handsome stranger you hardly know (but occasionally fool around with), stops showing up at your diner. 

You stare at his booth for far longer than you should. Willing him to appear. To walk through the door and make things right. Ease this ache in your chest.

You have no way to contact him. You don’t know his last name, or his phone number, or his address. You don’t even know his license plate number. He’s a ghost to you. More than a stranger but less than a friend.

You give him a few more minutes to appear. Maybe there was traffic. Or maybe he forgot you were working tonight.

But soon, a few minutes turns into an hour, and booth 505 remains empty.

So, you put the idea of him to bed. Carrying on with your shift while wearing your heavy heart on your sleeve. Perhaps he’s gotten bored with you. Or perhaps he’s found other ways to occupy his nights.

You almost think you’d prefer this alternative to the other. The one where he’s not here because he’s not…here. That wherever he goes and whatever he does has finally caught up to him.

It makes your stomach wrench to imagine, and you forcibly shove the thought free before returning your attention to your newest pie.

Peach. Another one of Harry’s favorites.

3 a.m. has never felt so liberating. Bringing you the perfect escape as you clock out and rush through the doors for the parking lot. Eager to rid yourself of this wretched night and head back to your apartment to worry about your stranger in peace.

You step out into the cold morning air and pull your jacket a bit tighter around your frame. Exhaling a shaky breath that you can see dance across the dimly lit space.

There are only two other cars over by the right side of the building, and much to your continued dismay, you notice that Harry’s still isn’t one of them. 

So, with a sinking stomach, you reach into your pocket for your apartment keys, and begin walking for the subway. Yet right as round the corner of the diner, you notice something move within the shadows just beside you.

With a jump, you gasp, and spin around on your heel with your keys raised and aimed at the ready.

The figure that emerges sends your heart straight into your throat.

“Harry?” You drop your arm and move closer for a better look. “What…what…?”

The battered and bruised man offers you a tired smile that hardly reaches his lips. “Hi, Cherry.”

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. There’s a nasty slash going down his left eyebrow, a dark bruise forming along his jaw, and blood dripping down his arm from beneath his sleeve onto the pavement below.

You search for the right words – for any words at all – but before you can, he’s stumbling forward. Just barely able to catch himself before he collapses onto the ground.

With another gasp, you surge forward, quickly taking hold of his shoulders in order to keep him upright. “Harry—”

“M’okay,” he murmurs, and you can hardly hear him. As if he barely has the strength to speak. “I’m fine. I promise—”

“Harry,” you repeat for a third time, almost incredulously. “You…this is not fine. You’re…what happened?”

Even before he shakes his head, you know he won’t truly answer. “Nothing. S’just a little worse this time, but I’m okay. Really.”

You feel sick. Sick that he’s so hurt, sick that you can’t help him, and sick because you don’t understand who does this to him. “Okay, we…we need to get you to a hospital, we need to get you some help—”

“No.” His head shakes again, a bit more insistently. “No, I can’t go to a hospital. I just…I had to see you.”

You feel your throat constrict. “What?”

His hand lifts, palm finding your jaw until he can softly caress your cheek. And you feel a streak of blood smear across your skin from where his thumb brushes at your chin. 

“I had to see you,” he repeats softly. “Had to make sure you were all right. M’so sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

You want to bury yourself in his arms. Want to kiss him, and hold him, and fix him. Make everything better again.

“It’s okay,” you nearly whimper. Pushing yourself into his touch. “I’m just really worried about you.”

The smirk grows. “I’m all right. I’ll go home, take some pain pills, and be right as rain by tomorrow. Really.”

 You’re hardly convinced. “Harry—"

“I’m all right,” he insists, dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to worry about me, Cher. S’not the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ll be okay. I just wanted to see you.”

And you don’t believe him. You don’t even think he believes him. But he smiles at you as though he wants to. As though he wants to offer you any sort of consolation for his pain. To make this better…for you.

You allow him to hold you a moment longer before you pull back and declare, “I’ll help.”

His brows pinch together. “What?”

“I’ll help. I’ll go with you. Make sure you’re okay, and…and help you clean up.”

His expression softens, but he sighs heavily. “Baby, I can’t…I can’t ask you to do that—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“I know, s’just…” He holds your cheeks in both hands now. Keeping you in his sights. “I made a rule with myself. A promise that I wouldn’t drag you down with me. That I’d make sure you were okay, and that you’d never hurt because of me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens, but you merely straighten up. “How could this hurt me? I just want to help.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he breathes. “But letting you come with me means breaking my rule. And I can’t do that. I won’t.”

You wonder what he means. You wonder if you really want to know.

“Then you come with me,” you decide. “You can come back to my apartment, and I can make sure you’re all right.”

Another heavy exhale, but you can tell he’s touched. “Cherry—”

“I mean it. You’re not…Harry, I’m really worried about you. You can hardly stand and you’re bleeding from more places than one. You could have really hurt yourself and you shouldn’t be alone. I won’t let you be alone right now.”

He considers this. “Cherry, I’m trying to protect you—”

“And I’m trying to protect you, too,” you argue firmly, but with a persuasive grin. “Please let me.”

There’s a long lull of silence, those gentle green eyes studying you closely. He looks so very tired and wrought with grief. Yet when he sees you…his entire world seems to change. Lighting up about as bright as the moon.

“Okay,” he finally agrees. “Okay, we’ll go. I trust you.”

I trust you. Three little words that have never sounded so good and you can’t help but push up onto your toes to kiss him as gingerly as you can.

“Okay, where’s your car?” you ask, letting go in order to look around. “My apartment isn't too far, so I can drive until we—”

“No.”

“What?”

He squeezes onto your wrist almost pointedly. “No, we can’t…can’t take my car. S’not safe.”

“Oh…” Your lashes flutter. “All right. We…we can take the subway. I was going to take it anyway because a friend of mine is borrowing my car for the night, but…that can work. We can make that work.”

He says nothing, instead swaying a bit from the loss of blood as you rush to take hold of him once more.

“All right, okay. You’re okay,” you murmur softly. “Just hold on, okay? It’s only a few stops to my place, and we’ll be there in under twenty minutes.”

He nods weakly in response, and you’re quick to pull his arm around your shoulders in order to help guide him through the parking lot.

He seems grateful for this hold on you. Smirking to himself before leaning over to press his lips to your temple. Keeping you tight against his chest as though the two of you are merely going for a stroll in the park. 

Like a real couple.

You cling to his stained hoodie and help lead him toward the subway station. Making sure that you don’t walk too fast (or too slow) in order to get him there in one piece.

You don’t talk much – although there’s so much you want to say – but you can tell he’s pleased. Grateful to be in your company, even despite the circumstances. 

Once the train arrives, you both slip through the doors, and take a seat near the exit. You push your shoulder into his and he pushes his shoulder into yours. Leaning against each other almost contently and smiling to yourselves as the rest of the crowd saunters on.

The subway is relatively empty for this time of night. Or rather, early morning. And you’re more than all right with that. It means less people to stare at the bloody, bruised man dripping onto the train floor. 

He doesn’t notice the odd looks. He doesn’t seem to notice anything but you, instead staring down at where your fingers are tracing his. The way they run tenderly over the cracked skin across his knuckles before intertwining together.

He hums contently, lips stretching into a gentle grin.

You’re at your stop only fifteen minutes later, practically leaping onto your feet in a rush to get him out.

He seems to have a bit more energy now, perhaps from being able to rest for as long as he did. But he still holds onto you as tightly as he can while you walk along the sidewalk.

And you can’t help but let him.

“My apartment might be a little messy,” you attempt to preface as you head inside the tall building. “I was going to clean it before I left, but something…came up.”

He nods understandingly before glancing over the side of your profile. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” you tease, gesturing toward him.

He smirks, but that curious look doesn’t slip. “Are you?”

You press the elevator button with one hand and squeeze his palm in the other. “I will be once you are.”

Apartment 505 is on the left side of the building, just beside the stairwell. It gives you a perfect view of the city, and you spend most of your days out on the stairwell watching the sun rise and set.

There’s a wreath on your door, hanging just over the number, and your stranger smiles when he sees it. Seemingly amused by the bright flowers and dainty bow that stands out amidst the dark grey paint.

After fumbling with your keys, you finally manage to get you both inside. Exhaling a deep breath and tossing your things toward the coffee table.

“Lock it,” he murmurs just as you’re moving for the kitchen.

“What?”

“The door. Lock it,” he says, almost firmly while nodding toward the handle. “Right now.”

A tad surprised by the resolute tone of voice, you nod, and turn around to oblige. Making sure the lock is turned and the door is secure before glancing over for his approval.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. “I want you to always lock it when you come in, all right? Always.”

“Okay,” you agree softly, returning to him. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” you whisper, raising your hand to his face to press a kiss to his cheek. “Can you let me take care of you now?”

He seems to chuckle as he allows you to stroke his jaw. Settling into your gentle touch before nodding.

Pleased, you take his hand, and lead him toward your small bathroom. Sitting him on the edge of the bathtub in order to get a better look.

But the moment you see each cut and scrape beneath the bright, fluorescent light, there’s a hitch in your breath. Overwhelming you with sorrow and anguish at the sight of him. 

“Harry,” you exhale, almost unintentionally. 

His lashes flutter as he smiles, reaching out to lightly tug on your waitressing dress. “M’okay, Cherry. Really.”

He’s not okay, and you both know it. “I’ll…I’ll need to clean them first. Where…how many are there?”

A beat while he thinks. “There’s a couple on my chest. Plus, the one on my eye, and, you know, my hands.”

You nod, and vaguely gesture toward him, willing yourself not to shake. “Can…may I take off your hoodie? So I can check?”

The corner of his mouth curls up and he nods as well, reaching for the collar of his sweatshirt in order to begin peeling it off his torso.

You attempt to help, making sure he can get his arms through without having to bend too far or cause any strain to the injuries.

But once it’s off, you feel your stomach twist.

 His skin is littered with scars, scrapes, and fresh bruises. A variety of colors that range from light pink to an unsettling yellow. Blood is smeared across tattoos you didn’t even know he had, and there’s a rather nasty gash along the side of his ribcage. 

You hear yourself gasp, and he quickly tugs on your hem again. “Cher—”

However, you brush his hand away and move closer, running the tips of your fingers along his shoulder and down his sternum. Trailing each inch of stained skin until you reach his heart.

“Harry…” you say again.

He takes hold of your wrist and offers you a look of remorse. “I know.”

You aren’t sure you have the strength to ask, instead swallowing thickly as you pull back, and turn around. Searching through your cupboards for everything you’ll need.

He watches you closely, and it seems your reaction causes him more pain than anything else. It’s a look you know well. One where he’s desperate to comfort you, and you wish you could let him.

You rejoin his side with bandages, rubbing alcohol, and a sterilized needle with thread. “All right, I have to clean them first, and then…”

His eyes flick down to the suturing supplies with a smirk. “Ah.”

You grimace. “It’ll probably hurt.”

To your surprise, he shrugs. “No worse than what gave me the cut, I imagine.”

You hum to yourself and move for the alcohol. “And this might sting.”

“Mm. I’m counting on it.”

Dipping a cloth into the potent liquid, you begin to dab at each open cut that’s painted along his body. Making sure to be as gentle as you can and avoid any potential infections.

He tenses every few moments, jaw ticking as he takes steady, even breaths. But he makes no noise of complaint, nor does he flinch away from your touch. Almost leaning into it as you move between each scratch.

“How’s that?” you whisper, glancing over his face curiously before moving for the cut on his brow. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, red-rimmed eyes trained on you. Seeming to study you while you study his injury. “M’okay. Are you?”

You smile. “Yeah. Don’t like hurting you, though.”

“You’re not. Could never.”

“Hope you’re right.”

You smooth back the dark hairs of his eyebrow as gingerly as you can before reaching for the medical tape. Cutting the strips to the right length, you place a couple over the cut, and step back to observe.

“All right,” you declare. “Now, um…now I’ll need to…”

You both look toward his stomach where the worst gash lies, and he nods. “Where do you want me?”

“Just…there. Is fine.” You collect the needle and thread before crouching down near him in order to get closer. “It shouldn’t take too long. Be over before you know it.”

“All right.” He’s oddly calm, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched, Cherry. I’ll be all right.”

 “I can see that,” you mumble to yourself, reaching now for his abdomen. “Just…tell me if it hurts too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

With a deep breath, you pinch his skin between your fingers, and bring the tip of the needle closer. Piercing the skin and threading it through slowly and with great precision.

He looks down, watching for a moment almost as though fascinated. “You’re really good at that.”

You offer a tight-lipped smile. “Should hope so. Spent three years learning how to do it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My, uh…my parents really wanted me to pursue a career in the medical field,” you explain as you continue working your way down. “And I thought being a nurse would be good because I liked the idea of helping people. And I liked learning about the body and how to heal it.”

His eyes remain on you.

“Anyway, it didn’t…I didn’t have a great experience in medical school,” you continue. “And it made me realize that it wasn’t what I really wanted to do. I wanted to…help people through food, I guess. Which probably sounds silly—”

“No,” he says, almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”

You smile a bit bigger. “Well, my parents were pretty pissed when I dropped out. Which makes sense, since they were the ones paying for it. But…they told me that if I wanted to pursue baking, I’d have to do that on my own. Financially, anyway. Hence all the late shifts at the diner.”

His brows furrow together almost sternly.

“And I don’t mind it. I really like working there. I like my coworkers, I like the people I meet.” You pause now and brave a glance up. “And I really like that it brought me to you.”

There’s a softness in his expression that makes your heart skip. “M’glad it brought you to me, too.”

You chew on the inside of your lip to suppress a rather giddy grin before returning your focus to the wound. “All right, your turn.”

“My turn?”

You nod your chin toward his injured body. “Why do you keep letting this happen?”

He sighs, and his stomach tenses with the strained breath. He wears the same look he wears each time you ask, and you already know he’s searching for the right way to deflect the question. 

“I don’t know.”

You expected nothing less, yet tonight, you insist upon the truth. Scooting closer as you glance up almost pleadingly. “Where do you go? Who does this to you?”

He hesitates. “Cher—”

“I won’t judge you. I’d never judge you, but this isn’t…Harry, this is really scary. And I want to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Another heavy pause as you continue the suture. He contemplates his response, the small bathroom filling with a tense sort of energy. You wonder if the truth hurts him more than the scars.

“I…fight,” he finally says, and you feel your pulse stutter. “I get paid to fight. Three nights a week.”

And even though you’d already begun to assume that was the case, you feel the blood drain from your face. “Harry…”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs quickly, reaching out to brush his thumb along your cheek. “I’m okay.”

You want to argue, but you bite your tongue. Zeroing in your focus on your hands.

“I like it,’ he continues. “Don’t know why, but there’s just…there’s this rush, you know? This adrenaline. Makes me feel alive to be so close to death, I guess.”

You hum quietly, features pulling together in a wince. 

“S’about the only thing I’m good at, too,” he adds with a wry chuckle. “And all I have to do is win.”

Your head lifts. “This doesn’t look like a win.”

“Yeah, well. You should’ve seen the other guy.”

And despite his attempt at humor, you look back down, lashes fluttering.

It’s quiet for another long lull before he says, “It’s how I met you.”

You choose to keep your eyes downcast on the needle this time, but your ears perk up.

“One of the guys I work with said your desserts were the best he’d ever had. Said he used to go there all the time, for every fucking meal.”

You pull the thread though his stained skin and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

But his story is undeterred. “And I always get kind of a sugar craving after a fight, so I thought I’d go. And then…you.”

You remember the night vividly. The sight of him, hands wrapped in gauze, eyes dark and inquisitive, that familiar hoodie pulled over his head.

He was mysterious and strange, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

You have been ever since.

“And he was right,” Harry whispers now, tucking his finger beneath your chin until he can see you. “Never had anything as sweet as you.”

Your heart returns to your throat, and there’s a sort of longing in your stomach that can’t be tamped. You aren’t sure if you want to laugh or cry, so you merely release a soft sigh and finish closing the wound.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” you ask of him again. “Really?”

He runs his tongue over his cracked lip. “Sometimes.”

“And would they let you leave? If you wanted to?”

The silence is deafening. 

His thumb moves to your mouth, brushing over the pink fibers that part for him. “Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to find out.”

It’s not a perfect answer. But it’s the one you choose to cling to, reaching up to squeeze his wrist in desperation.

You suppose this explains more than you realized. Why he won’t tell you who he really is. Why he won’t let you into his world. Why he insists on keeping you safe.

But it only makes this new reality that much heavier.

“Just make me a promise, okay?” you exhale. “Promise me that you’ll be all right. That you’ll stay safe. That you won’t…”

The unspoken word carries a weight that nearly crushes you, and he seems to understand as he squeezes your chin.

“That you’ll always come back,” you finish.

“I promise,” he says, even if you both know it’s not a promise he can make. “Always.”

You kiss him. Quickly and without pause, surging forward until your mouth meets his. You take his lips between your own, careful to mind the cut while remembering just how much he enjoys the sting.

Instantly, his hand curls around the back of your neck, tugging you as close as he can get you. Tongues tangling, teeth clashing, and soft grunts that reverberate all the way down to your chest.

“Careful,” you gasp, attempting to pull back when he guides you between his legs. “Your cut—”

“Don’t care,” he whispers, bringing you back to nip at your bottom lip. “Don’t fucking care.”

You whimper against him, hands resting delicately on his chest. “Har—”

“I know. Just missed you. Really missed you, sweet girl.”

He tugs you between his thighs and you allow yourself to be moved. Melting into his touch as he uses his height advantage to fully take control of you. In more ways than one. 

Desperate pants fill the tiny bathroom, and you can’t help but feel undone by him. Already feeling a certain throbbing in the pit of your stomach that can’t be tamed by anything else but him.

“Harry,” you try again, moving your hands to his hair. Carding your fingers through his matted, bloody curls. “Please…”

And then…you feel it. Rather, you feel him. Hard and prominent, pressing right up against you. 

You gasp, and he rests his forehead against yours. Cursing to himself when you nudge yourself forward.

And that’s when you realize. 

“Does pain turn you on?”

There’s a quick pause before he nods once. Trailing his lips along your cheek and toward your throat.

Your head spins. “Really?”

Another motion of his head. “It’s not really pain when it’s you.”

Breathlessly, you drop your touch to his lap, palming him through his dark jeans while he groans again and buries his nose in your neck. Inhaling you deeply while bracing himself against your knelt frame.

“Think it’s my turn now,” you say. “My turn to be good.”

The grip on your neck tightens, and you can feel him release a warm exhale against your collarbone before he’s kissing just below your ear.

Then, he shakes his head, and mumbles, “No.”

You stop, fingers freezing over the bulge between his thighs. “What?”

“No,” he repeats gently. “S’not about me. Wanna make this about you.”

You lean back just far enough to catch his eye. “But—”

“There are a lot of things I’ll never be able to give you. Or do for you,” he explains gingerly. “But I can do this. I want to do this, sweet girl. Wanna give you the fucking world because it’s what you deserve.”

You consider this for only a moment before settling on the floor. “Har…”

His head shakes once more. Thumb stroking the curve of your jaw while tilting your eyes up. “Never be able to tell you how beautiful you are. I don’t…I can’t even understand it. You’re perfect, Cherry. So fucking perfect, and I will spend the rest of my life wanting to be near you.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. One that nearly knocks the wind from your lungs as you gaze at him.

“Wanting to taste you…” he continues, dipping down to brush his nose against yours. “Feel you…touch you. You…are the best goddamn thing I will ever have.”

You whimper, pushing yourself closer until he finally kisses you. “Then let me…”

But he merely smiles. “One day, sweet girl. I promise.”

You want to push. You almost want to insist that he let you take his cock into your mouth, but the look on his face is resolute. Decisive. You aren’t changing his mind, at least not tonight.

And you decide that maybe it’s for the better. His body needs to rest in order to heal, and perhaps any extra strain would hurt him or rip the stitching.

So, you oblige. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

With a chuckle, he kisses you again. “Good girl.”

The kisses grow more frantic. About as frantic as before, and you have to physically yank yourself out of his grasp in order to calm yourself down.

“No,” you say this time as you stand. “No, you need to lay down. And rest. Okay? Give your body time to heal. And get better.”

He watches you go, but he’s unconvinced, already looping an arm around your hips to pull you back. “This is how I get better.”

And even though you’re concerned for his health, you can’t deny the pulsing between your thighs. “Harry—”

“You make me better,” he says, trailing his lips along your arms, all the way down to your palms. “Always. Fucking always—”

You whine beneath a strained breath, your other hand dropping to his head as you tug on his hair.

In turn, he moans against you, and your knees about buckle. “Let me get better…please…”

And it’s almost like he doesn’t realize he’s said it. A subconscious thought that’s whispered against your skin until it becomes one with your bloodstream.

“Want to,” you say. “I want to, but you need to rest. I need you to rest, Har.”

“I am,” he tries to argue, glancing up through those thick lashes of his. “This is me resting.”

“Harry—”

“Please,” he nearly groans again, pressing his nose into your stomach. “God, please, Cher. Please. M’so fucking lost on you, I can’t…I need…”

He told you once that you’re like a drug to him. That he goes through withdrawals if you’re not near. If he’s gone too long without you.

And, truthfully, you feel about the same. Feeling strung-out and shaky without his touch. Even the sound of his voice. It’s borderline pathetic, yet you don’t ever want to be rid of him.

“You need to rest,” you repeat, although you’re losing conviction. “I want to, but I can’t…I’m worried. You shouldn’t move, you should rest.”

The air becomes charged as he looks back up. “Then ride my face.”

You hesitate. “What?”

“Ride my face,” he says again, practically groaning the instruction. “S’easy, right? Won’t have to move. I’ll just hold you, yeah?”

You feel the heat rush into your cheeks as you blink down at him. “I…you’re already hurt. I don’t want to suffocate you, too—”

“God, suffocate me,” he sighs, grabbing onto the backs of your thighs. Squeezing the flesh in his strong, battered hands pleadingly. “You’d never hurt me, baby, ever. S’all I fucking want. Don’t want anything else but you. Only you. All of you. Want you everywhere.”

And you believe him. You do. But the idea of…and being that close…

“What…but what if it’s too much?” you murmur. “What if I’m too…—”

“Never.” A firm shake of his head. “Fucking never. You would never be too much. Believe me. Tasting you is the only good thing in my life.”

There’s a catch in your throat that you swallow down. “I just…I’ve never…”

His expression softens. Thumbs brushing at your exposed skin before squeezing once more. “It’s okay. S’okay, sweet girl, really. Don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t have to do anything at all. But…I promise you…you could never do anything wrong. Ever. You breathe and you’re perfect.”

And he’s so honest. So good. You know he means it, know he’d never lie about something like this. And you do trust him. More than anything. Trust that he’d never judge you or want anything more from you than what you’re willing to give.

“If you say no, then it’s no,” he adds gently. “End of. Promise.”

But that’s not your problem. You’d happily do anything and everything with him. But you’re worried about his injuries and all the blood he’s already lost. Granted, his suggestion would perhaps be the best alternative, but…

“Fine,” you whisper, squeezing his curls in your fist. “Okay. But you need to be very careful and very still. And if it starts to hurt, we stop. Okay?”

There’s a wicked gleam in his eye. One you recognize all too well, yet it merely makes your pulse jump.

“Okay,” he agrees, almost mischievously. “Deal. Just lead the way.”

You bite back a whimper before glancing toward his knuckles. “I need wrap your hands first—”

“No,” he interjects. “No, leave ‘em. Just for right now. Wanna see them when I hold you.”

And there’s something about the idea that leaves you breathless, making your nails curl into his scalp as if to drag him closer. “Are you sure—”

“Yes.” He tugs on the hem of your dress again, almost as though trying to rip it off. “Yes, m’sure. Please, Cher…”

And you have no choice but to oblige.

You reach down, take his hand, and pull him onto his feet. Quickly and impatiently leading him out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room before pushing the door open and bringing him inside.

He only takes a moment to look around, eyebrows raised while a smile plays at his lips. He studies the array of artwork you have displayed, the baby blue paint on your walls, and the plethora of pillows that sit near your headboard. He seems…enchanted, almost, and it makes you giddy.

“S’cute,” he decides, offering his smirk to you. “Very cute. Very you.”

“Thanks,” you reply anxiously, already looping your arms around his neck in order to yank him back down. “Please?”

He chuckles against your lips before dropping his hands to your waist, nodding once, and pushing you back. “Do you trust me, baby? Trust me to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you answer instantaneously. “Yes, always.”

“Yeah? Know I’ll take care of you?”

“Yes.”

He drops you onto the bed before chasing after you. Lips on your cheek, your neck, your chest. Fingers playing with the buttons on your chest before he whispers, “Can I take this off, sweet girl?”

You motion your head almost frantically, leaning back to give him room.

He undoes your dress and slips it over your head in a matter of seconds. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear as he tosses it toward the floor before surging forward to kiss you again.

He’s seen you before. Seen your chest, your stomach, your thighs. But never in the privacy of your own home, and the way he seems to look at you now feels as though it changes everything. Like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

“Baby,” he breathes, pulling your lip between his teeth before groaning. “God…s’fucking cruel you have to hide this behind such a hideous dress.”

You grin against his mouth, scooting back in order to make space for him. “Then maybe you should come around and take it off more often.”

He likes this idea, chuckling to himself before grabbing hold of your hips, and flipping over onto his back. Effectively pulling you with him until you’re straddling his waist.

With a gasp, you glance down to his newly stitched cut, quickly inspecting in order to make sure nothing has been ripped or pulled. “Harry, you can’t—”

“Shh,” he coos, pulling on the back of your neck to bring you down again. Nose nudging with yours. “M’okay. I’ll tell you, yeah?”

“But—”

“I’m all right,” he insists quietly. “Promise. Just need you.”

You swallow the rest of your complaints, allowing your body to be pulled into his before he’s moving both hands to your naked thighs. Stroking along the tender, soft flesh and kneading it tenderly.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” he whispers. “Hm? Gonna let me have a taste?”

And even if you’re somewhat apprehensive, the lust that swims within the bottom of your stomach makes you whimper. Urging you to say, “Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good girl,” he hums, gliding his palms toward your ass before patting it once. “Up you go.”

You imagine you seem somewhat terrified, but his look of encouragement goes straight to your cunt. Encouraging you up his body until you can place your knees on either side of his head.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes already gluing to your panties. “So good, baby. Can you hold onto me? Hold onto my hair? And tug it if it’s too much?”

You nod weakly and drop your fingers to his curls. Brushing them gently while he smiles, lashes fluttering.

“Good girl,” he says again, and it makes you clench around nothing. “M’gonna pull you down now, okay? Don’t worry about anything. Just let me make you feel good. Promise I’ll be all right.”

You whimper beneath a deep breath before nodding again and allowing him to guide you down to his face.

You feel the tip of his nose ghost across the edge of your panties, right near your clit. And you can help but buck up, gasping as you squirm away from the stimulating touch.

But his hold on you is unrelenting, tightening when he feels you twitch before yanking you back into position.

“Uh-uh, sweet girl, none of that,” he warns softly, mouth dancing down your covered cunt. Tauntingly. Deviously. “M’just having some fun, yeah? Gonna let me have fun with such a pretty pussy?”

When you don’t answer, he gently smacks his hand against the side of your thigh.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, gathering his curls in your fist. “Yes, I…I will.”

“Mm. Good. Cause m’having so much fun with you, Cher. You know that? Always have fun getting to play with what’s mine.”

This possession sends chills down your spine and your chest heaves from the way he flattens his tongue against your underwear before dragging it down.

He seems to bask in your whines, moaning against your cunt before curling his fingers into your skin. Forcing you down even further until you’re nearly sat on his mouth.

His technique is sinful. Just enough to tease you and leave you wanting more. Effortlessly casting out any doubts or hesitation as you begin to settle in his hold, permitting him to keep you against his tongue until he sighs contently.

“Fucking killing me, baby,” he says, lifting you up in order to reach for the soft material against your pussy and drag it to the side. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod quickly.

“Promise to tug me if it’s too much or you want to stop?”

“Yes…yes, Har, please—”

“I know,” he shushes. “Just so well behaved for me, aren’t you? Hold still for me, all right?”

You go to nod again, but before you can, his lips are meeting your clit. Pressing the most innocent of kisses to the sensitive nerves until you choke on his name and yank his curls.

He seems to realize this aggression has more to do with the pleasure than the pain, and you can practically feel him smirk into your cunt before he does it again. Over and over and over, making your eyes roll back and your throat run dry with desperate pants and whimpers.

Then…he sucks. Takes your clit into his mouth before flattening his tongue and dragging it through.

You’ve never felt this kind of stimulation. This kind of overwhelming pleasure that goes directly to your toes.

Sure, he’s eaten you out before, but he’s never been this…close. He’s devouring you from the inside out. Forcing you against his mouth as though his life depends on it. 

The hold on your hip is unforgiving, and you’re almost sure you’ll see remnants of him on your skin tomorrow. The tips of his fingers tattooing to your waist and marking you as his forevermore. 

You aren’t sure what to do with yourself. Overcome with lust and infatuation for the man between your thighs. The way he expertly slides his lips through your folds, drowning in you.

The tip of his tongue teases your hole, and you feel him groan at the way your pussy flutters from the slight intrusion. And the vibration of his greed makes your hands tighten in his hair. Nail scraping so hard down his scalp, you’re sure you’ll draw blood.

But he loves it. Seems to thrive off it. Going in a bit further before dragging your arousal up to your clit and flicking.

Then, he swallows you down.

“Harry,” you gasp, and you wish you could see him. Wish more than anything that you could gaze down at his face and watch while he does this to you. 

He always tends to get a sort of mesmeric look in his eye when he’s making you cum. Almost like he’s in a trance. Hypnotized by your body, drunk off the way he’s making you feel.

You imagine that’s about how he looks now, and you’d give anything to see those beautiful, hazy eyes just once.

“You’re okay,” he whispers, pulling away just long enough to speak. “You’re okay, yeah?”

You nod quickly. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I promise—please…”

He understands your request perhaps better than anyone and smiles to himself before going back in. It’s far too easy to unravel you, it seems. All he has to do is suck, and flick, and slide his mouth along your dripping pussy, and you’re done for. Already nearing release before he’s even really begun.

He senses this, and instantly goes harder. Faster. Tongue fucking into your clenching hole relentlessly until you cry out his name…and let go.

You hardly have time to register what’s happening or warn him of your impending orgasm. Nor do you have the time to remove yourself from him before accidently crushing him between your thighs and beneath your weight.

Yet through every second, he holds on. Keeps you exactly where you were, stuck in his hold, glued to his tongue. Until every drop of your cum belongs to him.

“Har…Harry,” you pant, uncurling your fingers from his hair. “Okay, it’s okay…I came, I—”

“I know,” he mumbles, leaving another kiss to your clit. “And you’re gonna do it again.”

It’s resolute. He leaves no room for bargaining or questioning before he’s going back in. Quick flicks of his tongue through your pussy until you feel breathless.

It’s sloppy. Everything about it is sloppy and wet. The sounds, his technique. The way he makes out with your cunt as though it’s the best thing he’s ever had. And, truthfully, you imagine he believes it is.

He repeats the movement of his tongue along the overstimulated nerves until you begin to shake. Never letting up, even when you begin to whine rather pitifully. Instead, he squeezes your waist, and keeps you close. Makes sure you take every second of this blissful affliction until you cum for a second time. 

The moment you do, he readjusts his hold on your panties in order to slip a finger inside. Forcing you up onto your knees so he can nip at your clit and fuck his finger into you with a newly determined fervor.

“Harry,” you cry out again, moving one hand to your headboard to brace yourself. “Can’t…can’t—”

“You’re all right,” he hums, the tip of his nose pressing hard into your skin. “You’re all right, sweet girl. Just want one more, okay?”

 And you believe him. You do believe you’re all right, even if the painful pleasure he’s dragging you into nearly kills you. Making your legs shake and your lungs heave.

You want to give him another. You want to give him all of your orgasms, forever. And he knows this, so he adds a second finger, and pumps you mercilessly.

The sound echoes through your room, loud and lewd. But it intertwines beautifully with his soft murmurs of encouragement: 

“Good, baby, just like that. Fucking squeezin’ me, aren’t you? Hm? S’it feel good? Feel so good to ride my face?”

You can’t answer. Want to. Can’t. Skin growing hot as sweat beads at your hairline. Muscles burning, aching, crying out for reprieve.

But all you really feel…is him.

“One more, come on,” he urges, increasing the speed of his tongue and his thrusts. “Can feel how close you are, sweet girl. Know you want to, yeah?”

You whimper softly, body tensing with the impending release.

“Yeah? I know. Know you’re so close. Bet it hurts, doesn’t it? S’just too much for this sweet little pussy, hm?”

He curls those long digits into your cunt until you moan, thighs trembling beside his head as you attempt to keep yourself upright. “Har, please—”

“What? What do you need?”

Everything, all of it, whatever it takes. You aren’t even sure, you just need…more.

He moves his mouth to the inside of your leg. Kissing and sucking into the tender skin while his fingers continue to encourage you closer. 

“Just taste so good, don’t you?” He trails his lips back toward your cunt. Lazily mouthing at your clit as if to torture you. “Get so wet for me. S’precious. So fucking precious.”

He uses his fingers to spread you open. Exhaling against your dripping cunt until you begin to squirm. Writhing away from the sensation while he does it again.

“Mm-mm,” he tuts, pulling you closer. “Told you no, sweet girl. Said I could play with you, so I am. Thought you were behaving for me?”

He exploits your need to please him. To obey and win his approval, and it nearly drives you mad.

“Know it’s a lot, baby,” he coos next, slipping back inside and curling. “Know you’re all sensitive. Not used to being so overstimulated, are you?”

He’s right, you’re not. Apart from him, nobody else has ever really taken the time.

“Makes me wonder,” he continues gently. “Wonder how you touch yourself…here in this very room.”

He pulls your clit between his teeth and tugs until you gasp.

“Tell me, Cherry. Tell me how you touch yourself when I’m not around.”

Your mind goes blank. Darkening around the edges while you suck in quick pants for air.

“Tell me,” he repeats, coarse and riddled with an insatiable hunger. “Tell me what you think about. D’you think about me, baby? Think about how good you look on my tongue?”

You find just enough strength to nod as you squeeze his curls and whimper out your agreement. 

“Yeah? Go on, tell me.”

Your mouth drops open, yet nothing else comes out. Save for a plethora of pathetic whines and anxious mewling.

He seems to laugh, the low sound sending goosebumps across the back of your neck. “What’s the matter, Cher? Pussy got your tongue?”

You can hardly acknowledge the joke as you go reeling forward, just barely able to catch yourself against the headboard before collapsing. “You…you,” you finally groan. “Always you, Harry. Always.”

“Me?” You can hear the faux fascination. “You think about me, baby? What do you think about?”

What don’t you think about? “Your…your fingers,” you stammer. “And…and your mouth.”

“Yeah? Good girl. What else?”

You’re too close to think straight, already falling victim to your orgasm before it’s even found you. “You…your…your…”

“S’okay, baby, come on. Tell me.”

You swallow thickly and will yourself to speak. “Think…think about taking you. About how you’d feel. How you’d…be.”

“How I’d be, hm?” The hand on your hip tightens almost possessively. “How would you want me to be? How would you want me to fuck you?”

 An array of positions flash through your mind. The echoing of his groans and pants in your ear as he fucks you. The way he’d hold onto your leg and push it into the bed. The way he’d pull your hair and demand you take him. That you behave, be good. 

There’s something about him, you realize. Something about his dominance that makes you feel safe. Seen and cared for.

You want him to tell you what to do. Want to give him full control of your body and mind. Make your decisions for you so you don’t have to wrestle with them yourself. You trust him. Trust that he’d always put you first.

“Any way you want,” you finally answer. “Any…any way. Hard…slow…fast…deep. Just wanna be good for you.”

The noise he makes against your pussy is animistic. Virile and obsessed, and his mouth reattaches to your clit almost like a reward. 

“Good,” he nearly growls. “Know you would be. Know you’d be fucking perfect, yeah? Let me stretch this sweet, little pussy anyway I’d like?”

 “Yes. Yes, Harry, please—”

“Just take it, wouldn’t you? Take me so well?” He yanks you down so hard, you wonder if he can even breathe. Truthfully, you don’t think he cares either way. “What else do you think about, sweet girl? Think about me tying you up?”

You nod zealously, sneaking a glance at the headboard almost as though to recreate your fantasy. 

“Yeah? What else? Would you want me to spank you?” He follows this inquiry up with a quick – albeit gentle – slap to your outer thigh. “S’that what you want?”

“Harry—”

“What about your pretty, little throat, hm? D’you want me to hold it in my hand? Squeeze it till you see stars?”

The thought sends you into a frenzy. Stomach flipping in on itself until you’re clenching so hard around his fingers, you’re surprised they don’t break.

“Yeah? Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, slowly and almost inconspicuously sneaking a third digit into play. Filling you exactly the way you need. “My dirty little Cherry just wants to be taken care of, doesn’t she?”

You have nothing more to offer him. No more noises, no more whines, no more pleas. Your throat has gone dry, and your body is trembling almost violently.

He grins. “Then I’ll always take care of what’s mine.”

You’re not sure what does it. If it’s the way he strokes his fingers into that sweet spot in your cunt, the way he skims his tongue against your clit, or if it’s his promise. 

But no matter the cause, your third orgasm overwhelms you. Pulls you down into the deepest part of your pleasure before ripping you apart. Seam by seam.

He swallows every second of it. Attempting to drag the stimulation on for as long as he can before you have to psychically take yourself away in order to breathe. 

“Okay, okay,” you whimper, returning to the bed just beside him. “Can’t…I can’t…”

“Okay,” he agrees in a soft, soothing tone. Quicky reaching out to press his hand to your cheek while his thumb brushes at your heated skin. “Okay, we’re done. Did so good for me.”

Your lashes flutter as your vision slowly returns, and when you see him, you about moan.

During his ravaging of your pussy, the cut on his lip reopened, and now, blood is smeared across his mouth and chin. Glistening from his skin right beside the remnants of you.

You don’t imagine you’ve ever seen something so erotic. You also never imagined you’d find it so appealing, and yet the way it looks painted across his sharp jaw and swollen lips…

You surge forward and kiss him. So hard and so fast, you imagine you’ve made him dizzy. 

Instantly, his palm is pressing to the back of your head. Keeping you against his mouth while slowly pulling you back into his embrace. And he holds you against his chest while moaning something that sounds a lot like, “Fucking hell.”

 You kiss until the sun comes up. The soft, warm beams of light slipping through your curtains, setting the whole room – and your tired bodies – aglow. 

His mouth moves to your neck. “You still with me, baby?”

You smile. “Always.”

“Good.” He leaves one, final kiss. “And you’re feeling all right?”

“Mhm. Are you?”

“Oh, I’m more than all right, sweet girl. M’fucking perfect.”

He guides back onto his chest. Limbs tangling together as he puts your body between his legs until he can hold you properly. Even despite your fussing over his injuries.

But it’s not until you’ve begun to settle that you feel it. “Harry?” you whisper softly.

“Mm?”

“…did you cum?”

He smiles before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Yeah.”

“But I didn’t…I mean I didn’t get to—"

“You just have that effect on me, Cher,” he murmurs, snaking his arms a bit tighter around your frame. “Told you. Making you feel good is all I want.”

You glance up, expression wounded. “Why won’t you let me help? I thought…I mean, you keep saying you want me to, but you never…you won’t let me.”

The bedroom falls silent as he considers this. The sage green in his eye melting into something golden from the reflection of the sunrise.

He reaches out and brushes his thumb across your mouth. Seeming to clean you of the blood that smeared when you kissed.

“I didn’t want this to be about me,” he finally says. “I never do.”

You merely frown. “But I want to do it. Do you not…I mean, do you think I can’t or something?”

A soft chuckle. “Oh, I know you can. Know you’d use this pretty little mouth just right, yeah?”

You nod.

“Yeah.” He squeezes your chin. “I meant what I said. One day. There are a lot of things I want to do with you. Be for you. But right now, I can’t…I’m not in a place where I can offer them to you. Not with…everything else going on.”

Your stomach sinks as you realize. You might not understand the complexities of his job or his life, but you do understand his concern. And you trust that he doesn’t make this decision lightly. 

“Besides,” he adds coyly, “they kind of have a rule about it.”

“Oh, do they?”

“Yeah. Something about reduced testosterone and decreased aggression. I don’t know, s’probably bullshit.” A nonchalant shrug. “Just means I get to keep the focus on you. Which is all I really want, anyway.”

“I can tell,” you tease, reaching up to brush your nose against his. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re perfect.” He says it so easily. As though it needs no thought. “Baby, you have no fucking idea how beautiful you are. Touching you is the closest I will ever get to heaven.”

You wonder how he does that. How he always manages to say exactly what you need to hear. And make you believe it. Every time.

You kiss him again, but it’s slow. Soft and gentle and full of an unspoken emotion that nearly overwhelms you. 

You fall asleep against his heart. His lips in your hair, your fingers on his chest. And for the next few hours, you dream of nothing but him.

By the time you wake, it’s nearly afternoon. Your muscles are sore and your body aches from the decisions and positions of the night before. 

But it’s a good sort of pain. The kind that reminds you of how willing you are to do it again.

You’re both quiet as you stir, and it’s comfortable. As though you’re used to waking up together. Exchanging nothing more than smiles and a hoarse, “Morning.”

After offering him some cereal, you ask if he’d like to take a shower. Maybe change into something else before you take him back to the diner so he can retrieve his car and you can pick up yours from your friend.

He politely declines, but he does agree to your stipulation that you check his wounds before you leave. He even stands perfectly still while you assess each cut and stitch in order to make sure everything is still in place.

Which to your surprise, it is.

Once you’ve gathered your things, you exit your apartment (after locking it as previously instructed), and head for the subway station.

It’s almost strange to see him in the light of day. He’s still as effortlessly striking as before, if not perhaps more. His skin looks a bit more tan, and his hair seems softer in the sun. But he walks with a kind of confidence you almost envy, slinging his arm around your shoulders just like the night before. This time, out of possession.

And you grin the whole way there.

It feels normal. Feels good. Natural. Like it was always meant to be. You and him. Always.

Your heart begins to sink with each step closer you get to the diner. You cling to his hoodie as though it physically hurts to say goodbye. And in turn, he pulls you in tighter to his heart, as if refusing to let you.

“I’ll walk you in,” he murmurs once you reach the parking lot, and you nod gratefully. Already taking in a deep breath as you prepare to watch him leave.

You see your car near the front of the diner, signaling that your friend is here to drop off the keys. And you almost feel nervous because you aren’t sure how to explain Harry. Or if you even need to explain him at all. 

If he’d want you to.

A part of you wants to protect him from everybody else. From their prying eyes and inquisitive questions. From their haughty, judgmental stares and this idea that they know who he really is.

Instead, you take his hand in yours, and squeeze. Offering him one last smile to hold you over until you see him again.

Which you can only hope will be soon.

He pushes the door open and leads you inside. Loosening his grip on you almost regretfully while your heart sinks down into your toes.

But the moment you both step beneath the light, he stops. Suddenly and with a strained inhale as fingers retighten around yours, halting you in place.

Concerned, you glance over the side of his face rather curiously before following his eyeline further into the diner.  

And that’s when you see him. 

“Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your car,” your friend says, sliding off one of the barstools in order to hand you your keys. “I really appreciate it. It was a huge help.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” you murmur before looking back to the tense man beside you. “Uh…this is my friend, Jesse. And Jesse, this is—”

“Harry,” Jesse says for you, lips curling up almost knowingly before he’s nodding once. 

Now even more confused, your head tilts while Harry’s skin instantly pales, his jaw clenching as his grip on your hand gets stronger.

But despite your muddled expression, Jesse merely chuckles to himself and steps forward, dragging his eyes from you to the tall stranger holding you.

“I see you finally found my girl.”

EEEEE I AM HAVING WAY TOO MUCH FUN

Next Part:

~ Reckless*

Previous Part:

~ Knockout*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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[silverstonesainz]

five minutes

─── its only five more minutes

lando norris x fewtrell!femreader warnings; none 1.7k words

lando’s arms are crossed over his chest, nodding every now and again as he pretends to listen to the other person talk. you know he’s pretending because his head is tilted ever so slightly, so that his eyes can look just past the person and right at whatever is on the wall behind them. this time around, it’s a television playing a new advert starring the driver himself. he scrunches his nose when he sees himself pop up on screen, and forces himself to look back at the person who hasn’t noticed that he’d lost the driver three sentences ago. the conversation eventually comes to a close with an exchange of smiles and hopeful goodbyes. 

you watch his shoulders deflate the moment the person is out of sight, his eyelids drooping down to his phone. he taps away, clenches his jaw all the while before he slips his phone back into his pocket. but his jaw doesn’t let, you see the tendons moving about underneath his skin. you push around your purse as you make your way over to him. he sees you, you don’t see the moment he does, the way he smiles when he sees a familiar face approaching. 

you pull out a pack of gum, shaking it with a smile. “gum?”

he chuckles, straightening his posture as he reaches over to pluck the pack from your fingers. “am i doing it again?” you hum a confirmation, “thanks mins.” 

mins. he’d given you the nickname when you were six, he was eight. mini-max, is what he called you. you hated it, and he loved calling you it. he reveled in the scowl you’d give him every time, and it only encouraged him to call you that. and the longer he did, the older you got, the nickname evolved. mini-max, to mini, and now just mins. 

you pull out a piece of gum for yourself before popping the pack back into your purse. lando looks around the room, “where’s your brother?”

your head spins around, searching for a head of curly hair and a man of small stature. but you can’t see over the mess of people at the event. you tiptoe, crane your neck, but to no avail you don’t find him. so you shrug your response, turning to look up at your brother’s best friend, who is too busy looking around the room to see your response. 

“if i had to guess, probably taking advantage of the open bar.” 

lando laughs. he tries to soften the shrill sounds, muffles it into a soft chuckle as he leans his weight onto the cocktail table. “probably.” he agrees. 

he indulges in a bit more conversation with you. the easy kind, the kind that makes your swell and make you believe that for a second this could work. this. you and him. 

“lando,” his pr officer, harry, appears by his side, offers you a curt smile before looking back at the driver, “a potential sponsor would like to speak to you.” 

you try to hide the disappointment, put up a supportive front even as the british boy looks at you apologetically. he huffs a breath, looks over at harry to ask if it was really even necessary. but the man is stubborn, shakes his head as he stresses the importance of his next conversation. lando concedes, asks for just a second and sends his pr person off to wait for him a few feet away. the boy is apologetic, though he shouldn’t be. its work. this was work. 

“it’s alright, i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” 

“of course.” 

he smiles, relieved, “okay. i’ll only be five minutes. don’t move a muscle, mins.” 

he smiles at you, miserable and apologetic, as he takes careful steps backwards. he doesn’t quite take his eyes off you, ignoring the man in orange walking by him, playfully rolling his eyes as his companion continues to yap on about things he’d surely forget in the next ten minutes anyways. lando doesn’t turn away until he bumps into a table and has to apologize to the people standing by it. you laugh behind your palm, try to hide the all-too-wide smile and soften a giggle much too loud for the situation. he turns his head one more time, almost like could hear your amusement from across the room. he grins widely when he sees the inexplicable joy on your face over his embarrassment, grins because your laugh makes the night a little more bearable. 

at least you think that’s why.

“what are you laughing at?” 

your posture stiffens at the sound of your brother’s voice, hear beating quickly out of nerves. you turn to look at max, who is holding a glass of something in his hand and his eyebrow raised like he wants in on the joke. 

“lando uh, he bumped into the cocktail table.”

max nods into the rim of his glass as he takes a sip, “course he did. klutz.” 

lando is deep in conversation now, a little more enthusiastic than earlier. he’s moving his hands a lot more, and his smile had yet to fade away. there’s a bit of jealousy— or maybe neediness, when you see him like this. you wish you had five more minutes of his time, just five more before he had to be lando norris, mclaren’s golden boy. you just wanted five more minutes of just lando. 

but you always ask for five more minutes. you’d been asking for five more minutes since you were sixteen, when lando’s 100th goodbye hurt like it was the first. five more minutes on the phone, five more minutes at the family dinner. it’s only five more minutes. 

you miss his eyes, you miss his presence. it’s silly really, how much you can miss a person even if they’re only across the room. 

“stop that.” 

max’s voice takes you out of your trance, pries your eyes away from his curly haired friend who continues to wow the person before him, forces you to look over at him the disappointed look on his face.

“what?”

“you know what,” max quips, “don’t look at lando like you’re in love with him.” 

“shut up max.” the embarrassment rises to your cheeks, turns them red and makes the skin hot. 

“i’m being serious y/n, you can’t fall in love with him.” there isn’t a hint of humor on your brother’s face, not a tremor of amusement. he’s stoic, dead serious about what he’s just said. 

“you don’t really get a say over who i fall in love with max, it's really none of your business.”

it’s not a no, not a denial to the unasked question over your feelings for lando. you turn away from max, but even then you can still see the way his face contorts to one of realization. you try to ignore the way your brother puts together how in deep you are for his best friend, the worry turn to panic, then to a grimace you can’t quite read otherwise. 

max puts his drink down on the table, takes a step closer to you to add a pit of privacy to the conversation at hand. “it’s my business if it’s my best friend. it’s not a good idea kid, i could give you a million reasons why it isn’t a good idea.” 

“give me one.” you dare, words hissed through your teeth. “if you have a million, give me one.” 

there’s a bit of hesitation from max. he looks over at his friend, who has yet to notice his presence in the room, then back over at you, his little sister. “because he’s my best friend. and when he inevitably breaks your heart— because he will, it’s lando. when he does, i’ll have to hate him. i will hate him because i love you. and i will hate him even if you ask me not to.” max looks over at his best friend, who finally sees him and waves over. max returns the gesture, pretends he’s not breaking your heart for him. 

lando’s skin glows under the warm light of the room. curls are defined atop his head, trimmed and kept with purpose. he looks heavenly, and it hurts to see him this way. 

it hurts to be in love with him.

“he’s going to hurt you,” max whispers, “and i’ll never be able to forgive him for it. and then i’ll lose him too. and i can’t lose him.” 

tears sting your eyes, “you don’t give him enough credit.” 

“you give him too much.” 

you turn away before the tears fall from your eyes. you’ll be damned if lando catches you crying, damned if you had to explain why. so you turn away, the back of your hand coming up to swipe away the tears on your cheeks. 

“i have to go.” you mumble. max sighs your name, begs you not to, but you shake your head, “i’m fine. it’s fine.” 

it’s not fine. you’re not fine.

“i’m just trying to protect you.” max mumbles. 

maybe he was. maybe one day you’d thank him for saving you the trouble of getting involved with lando. one day, you’ll be happy with your version of mr. perfect and thank the heavens that your brother talked you out of a bad idea like lando. one day you’ll be okay.

but for now, you’re not. in that moment, it hurt. you didn’t feel protected. you feel exposed, stripped of security and left bare at the cold truth. for now, you’d revel in the heartache of realizing lando could never be yours, that he was always going to be as unattainable as the five more minutes you used to pray for. 

“just tell lando…” you start. you turn your head, look over your shoulder and over at lando who laughs at something in the middle of the conversation. you wish you could laugh with him, wish you were in on the joke. you wish you were by him, part of this great big world he’d created for himself. 

you turn away, shaking your head and pulling your purse tighter against you. “… never mind.” you finish.

you duck out of the room, ignoring the way your brother calls your name, or the soft sound of lando asking you where you were going as you slip out the door.

you wish you could go back five minutes, before the heartache and the bitter truth. just five minutes.

d rambles. . . i have such mixed emotions about this one and i almost wanted to delete it but. here we are. lets just say i hate the first half, like the second. so ya. anyways. thx for reading! and saying it just to say it: don't be a ghost reader! i hope you liked this one & as always, feedback is always always appreciated.

[sterredem]

She’s real!?

Charles Leclerc x reader

Face claim:

Summary: Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong

Word count: -

Warning: fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.

A/N: the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.

Please interact or give feedback🫶🫶 it helps a lot

Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.

But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?

Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.

No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.

And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.

And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.

And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.

And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.

And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.

When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.

And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.

So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.

Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.

And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.

But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.

He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.

Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.

|———————————<3—————————————|

|———————————<3—————————————|

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.

“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.

“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).

“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.

“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).

“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.

“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.

“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.

“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.

“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.

“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)

After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.

“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.

“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.

A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.

Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.

“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.

“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.

“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.

“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.

“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.

Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.

“Should we?” She asked him.

“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.

“That would be fun.”

|———————————<3—————————————|

|———————————<3—————————————|

After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.

So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.

The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.

But they where all happy for them

|———————————<3—————————————|

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Thirteen

— Little Big Sleepover

Series Masterlist

wc: 2k

Isabella ran to her room, her eyes welling up with tears, leaving you and Max bewildered. With widened eyes, you glanced at Max, wondering where you went wrong.

You had simply told her, with what you thought was proper precautions, that you and Max were together. Isabella looked between you and Max for a single second before shaking her head and leaving the room. 

You didn't think twice before following her, finding her cuddling her second favourite teddy bear as tears stained her cheeks. "Oh, angel" you muttered as you sat beside her on her bed. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart, do you not like Max?" you prompted. Isabella glanced up at you for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, she did it to check if you were upset with her before she could form a response but once she only saw comfort, she opened up about the situation. 

"He's a good friend," she started and you nodded along but remained silent. "But will you still love me if you like him?" Hearing her words, your heart broke. You wanted to know what prompted her to ask such a serious question, but you focused on addressing it first.

"I have loved you from the day you were born," you began, deciding to hold back on sharing the information that you even loved her while you were pregnant, mainly because you didn't want to start a new set of questions relating to pregnancy just yet. "I love you, Isabella, and my relationship with Max won't ever change that."  

Isabella decided that the comfort she received from the teddy bear wasn't enough, so she gently placed it to the side before crawling up into your lap. "Are you still going to spend time with me? Because daddy stopped doing that." 

Her question helped you see where her unease of your relationship with Max came from. "Daddy was busy with work, it wasn't because of a relationship, Bella." You didn't want her to believe Emma was the source of the problem, even if she had broken up with Tyler. 

Isabella's mouth dropped open, slowly understanding the situation but then she pouted, "daddy's always busy with work." 

"He's trying his best," you didn't want to influence a negative father-daughter relationship between them with your words, even though you wanted to agree with her. Plus you hoped that Tyler would clean up his act and become a present father. However, lately that hope has started to die down. 

"It's okay, Maxy spends time with me," Isabella added and you faintly smiled at the slight positive turn the conversation took. "Yes he does, did you know he's inviting us to the next race?" 

That sparked a happier reaction out of your daughter, "really?" You nodded, "yeah, do you want to go?" While she was buzzing with excitement at the idea of going to another race, you also noticed her hesitation to give you an answer. "You don't have to tell me now, think about it okay?" 

Isabella smiled, pleased that you understood her better than she did herself. Wrapping her arms around you, she mumbled, "okay, mama." 

You hugged her a little tighter than you usually do. "I promise nothing will change between us, it's just that mama likes Maxy a lot and wants to be with him too," you explained and felt her nod against you. 

You didn't let go until she did first, and she looked at you with a mix of confusion and mischief, "so like the three of us together?" Wiping away her drying tears, you were surprised by the significant change in her mood but was also glad that she was no longer crying. 

"Yes, what do you think?" You prompted again, back to square one but this time you received a much more positive reaction. "Mama, Maxy, and me, I like that." 

Then she giggled, "Maxy, you can come in now," she spoke, looking at the door that was left ajar. Hearing her words, Max entered her room with a tightlipped smile, not liking the fact that he was caught. 

"I didn't mean to stand there, I was just worried about you." Although he entered the room, he still stood by the door. He heard your entire conversation and knew that Isabella would be fine with your relationship, but she just needed time to adjust. However, he was still wary on her opinion of him. 

Isabella wiggled off your lap and stepped closer to Max. She gestured with her hand, asking him crouch down so she could be at eye-level with him. "My mama likes you, do you like her?" 

"I like her a lot," he answered after a split second of hesitation because he was about to say the wrong L word, but he didn't want to overwhelm Isabella, or you for that matter. Even though deep down he knew you returned the sentiment, it just wasn't said out loud yet. 

He knew that you would prefer to know Isabella's thoughts on your relationship before it goes any further, and he was totally okay with that. 

"Are you going to take car of her?" Isabella asked with her hands on her hips, attempting to look slightly intimidating. Max didn't have the strength to tell her that she looked more cute than intimidating. "Always."

Dropping her "intimidating" stance, she smiled and glanced at both of you. "Then, I'm okay." While Isabella's gaze remained on Max, his was on you and he noticed as you let out a sigh in relief. 

Shuffling closer to Max, Isabella hugged him just like she usually did and that's when Max could finally let out a sigh of relief. She turned to look at you, "can I go play?" 

"Of course, sweetheart." You waited until she left the room to invite Max to sit next to you, which he obliged to immediately. His hand quickly found your thigh, an action that brought comfort to both of you. "We still need to be careful around her," you stated, and turned your head to look at him. 

"Yeah, that's okay, we'll give her time," he agreed and then he asked a question that has been bothering him for a while. "Would you have ended our relationship if she wasn't okay with it?" 

"I'm going to be very honest, I didn't even think of that as a possibility." The corner of his lip turned up in a half smile, "so you knew everything would be fine?" 

You shook your head, "Deep down I knew that she was comfortable around you but I also didn't really want to think about leaving you if she wasn't. I wanted the best of both worlds." 

Leaning closer to you, he muttered, "I would've done anything to convince Isabella." You happily smiled at that thought, now knowing that day wouldn't come. "Well now that she knows, it would be very hard for you to leave us." 

Max pulled back, "who said I wanted to?" You shrugged, "I'm just putting the thought out there." 

He leaned back against the mattress, and pulled you with him. "I want you and your daughter in my life, for every moment." He brought your hand up to place a light kiss, "knowing that, are you sure you won't get tired of me?" He asked you. 

"Not at all," you said as you leaned over him to place a lingering sweet kiss against his lips. You both showed your love in various ways even though you didn't say the three words out loud. Whether it was through small acts you did together throughout the day, other long conversations, or something like this, where you subtly promised to be together forever.

——

Later that night, Isabella was still very excited that Max was staying over. As you promised earlier, she noticed that nothing drastically changed after knowing about your relationship with Max. 

He was still undoubtedly kind to her, always agreeing to play with her even if that meant he had to purposely lose in the videogame over and over again just to see the biggest smile on her face. 

Even though you and Max had decided not to show too much affection around your daughter until she got used to seeing you two together, there were still the occasional stolen kisses and touches.

Especially when you two prepared dinner together—that is, until Isabella chose to accompany you both. Max suggested that she take a seat on the countertop so that she could see everything well. As you carried on cooking, you observed that Max was often sidetracked and would frequently stop what he was doing to indulge in a conversation with Isabella. 

The moments in front of you reminded you of a conversation you had with Max before you began dating. You had told him that your daughter would always be a top priority in your life, and if he didn't agree, you couldn't date him. You expected him to walk away, but he persuaded you that he wanted you both in his life. 

You smiled, relieved that you believed him since you were seeing the truth of his words in front of you as he willingly spent time with your daughter.  

Once you cleaned up after dinner, Isabella convinced Max to continue playing videogames. It was getting quite late into the night, but he couldn't exactly say no to her either, so they decided to play once more.

"No Maxy!" Isabella exclaimed with a laugh when he finally regained the upper hand and won the game, the last one of the night. 

"C'mon, time for bed now." You watched the back and forth conversation between them, especially at how Isabella tried to pout to convince him for another game. However, Max wasn't convinced this time. "Didn't you say you wanted me to read you a bedtime story?" 

"Yes, but I also want to play," Isabella confused herself, unable to choose one of the two options. "You can play tomorrow too," you suggested and she looked at him, "will you be here tomorrow?"

Once he nodded, she was satisfied. Isabella quickly helped clean up and rushed up the stairs with you and Max following behind. 

Max watched as you helped Isabella complete her nighttime routine, and she even commented that after some time, she wouldn't need any help. "You're growing up so fast," you responded. 

Soon enough Isabella was tucked into bed with the blanket up to her shoulders while Max read her a short story from one of her books. You let them enjoy that moment, and took that time to unwind from the day in your bedroom as well. 

Max returned while you were in the middle of your skincare routine, "is she sleeping?" you asked. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "She's snoring away," he responded, earning a chuckle from you. 

He watched you through the mirror patiently as you applied a few different products, raising his eyebrow in confusion when he didn't understand what it was. "What is that?" He couldn't help but ask. "A serum." 

Your answer didn't dissipate his confusion, and you laughed once you saw his expression. "Let's go to bed," you suggested once you finished up. 

The truth is, the idea of Max staying over was new to Isabella, but she had no idea that he has stayed over quite a few times. "I think I can finally sleep in as long as I want," Max commented once you two were settled in bed. 

"Well now she knows," you pressed a kiss to his cheek before cuddling closer. 

Every time Max had stayed the night, he would have to leave early in the morning to ensure that Isabella wouldn't see him. It wasn't a big deal because he was welcomed back a few hours later anyhow, but Max didn't get an opportunity to properly wake up next to you either. 

This time, he was looking forward to waking up next to you, knowing that it would be the first morning out of many more to come.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[uravitypng]

I loved it!!

But what would Bully!Tsukishima would do if his beloved starts dating someone that isn’t him.

I feel like he’d destroy the guy and then go claim her saying shit like “you’re fucking mine understand?”

I love Tsuki and I love Bully!Tsuki

~ Anon ❄️

-( i'm glad you loved it!! <33 i love him so much too! i had a dream about him last night asdfghjk ) (i had to put this under a cut because it is slightly longer than all my other parts)

i think tsukishima would say he had nothing to do with it, even though you both know the truth. i think he'd be like, "i don't know what happened but whatever did happen to him was his own fault"

it would be very rare for you to actively pursue someone or date someone not knowing the kind of wrath tsukishima would have towards you but recently you've just started a new relationship and it's going so well, you've never had one since starting uni and they're so nice to you. they help you study, insist on paying whenever you both visit the cafe just outside of campus before classes and wait for you outside of your classes to walk you home. they're amazing and whenever you think about them your heart flutters but it was only a matter of time until tsukishima found out.

when class ends he leaves just behind you ready to pull you somewhere quiet but instead he finds you and your partner, he sees them kiss your cheek and take your bag from you to start slinging it over his shoulder, "hey! stop doing that. i can carry it."

"i could never allow that babe. you're far to pretty to carry it," he grins and holds your hand before you both walk off.

tsukishima's jaw clenches. who the hell is holding your hand? who is kisses your cheek? complimenting you? how dare they, how dare you for thinking you could do that.

he's never even seen the guy around before, boring and dull looking, someone punching above their weight and it pisses him off however he doesn't do anything, he just watches you leave, seething. if you looked around for just a second you would realise how angry he is by his expressions that you've gotten so good at identifying since he first started terrorising you.

he doesn't do anything, at least for a few days. whenever you pass each other in corridors he'll still make sneering comments and sit behind you in classes. it still makes you tear up and cry but you hide it all from your partner.

when tsukishima realises they're still there walking you home and making you smile after a few days he knows he has to do something. he's gotten good at cornering people by now with how much he does it to you. tsukishima is tall and can be very intimidating when he wants to and right now he does want to.

he throws them against the wall and grabs hold of their collar, glaring at them. your partner is in complete shock. he knows of tsukishima, everyone does, he's popular and his friends are even more popular, all the girls like his cool demeanour and he's been playing volleyball for years even before he joined uni back when he was still just a teenager but he's never interacted with your partner before and they have no idea why he's so furious at them.

the shocked expression just pisses tsukishima off even more and he holds them tighter, not in any fear that they'll try and leave but because he can and he wants to scare them. he wants to hurt them. it's only fair for laying their hands on you.

your partner tries to sort through their thoughts to say something but tsukki won't allow for that. "you've got some nerve."

"what?" they're completely confused, having not one clue about what he's talking about.

"did you really think you could get away with touching my girl?" he spits.

"what?" they repeat themselves. "your girl? i promise you i haven't been talking to anyone. i have a girlfriend."

"your girlfriend?" he glares. "she was mine before she was yours and she'll always be mine." your partner still looks confused but then whispers your name. tsukki smirks and leans closer, "that's her. touch her again and you'll see what'll happen." he pushes them harder against the wall and then lets go, causing them to fall. he thinks about the consequences but does it anyway as he punches the side of their face, definitely leaving a heavy bruise by tomorrow morning.

that night you get a phone call after not hearing from your partner all day, you didn't have any classes so you've been studying at home, you grin as you pick up.

your partner cares about you a lot, they really do but they had no idea you knew tsukishima and you had told them you never dated in university before. your partner believes you, you'd never lie to them but obviously there is something you haven't told them about tsukishima. they want to stay with you. they want to ask you about it. they really do like you and they don't want to break up with you but then they feel the bruise on their cheek and remember the threat.

your partner stays silent and you wonder if they accidentally called you. you ask if they're okay. they start talking so quietly you have to turn the television off so you can hear them. "hi, babe. i don't really know how to say this but i think we should break up." as soon as the words left their mouth they felt immediate regret.

all the warmth left your body, "what?" you say just as quietly.

he gets a flashback of tsukishima cornering them as they kept repeating 'what'. "...yeah. let's break up." he hangs up the phone and you sit in silence crying all night.

the next day you go to and seek them out in campus, wanting to talk to them face to face. you can't just end a relationship like that, you don't even know why he broke up with you. if you've done something wrong you want to try and apologise, you want to work it out, even if them breaking up with you hurt and over the phone hurt even more, you want to try and make it work.

you see a huge bruise on his face. you gasp loudly. "are you okay? what happened?" you ask worried. all thoughts about your relationship leaving your brain just concerned about them.

"nothing happened i'm fine."

"you're not fine. it looks like you were punched."

they get frustrated, they like you a lot but you're the reason that they're ended up like this. "it's because of you that this happened."

"what?" they turn around, leaving you confused and mostly upset blaming you for something you had no control of and no knowledge of.

you walk aimlessly away, not wanting to be left next to them. you find yourself on a bench and you can't stop the tears from streaming down your face.

tsukishima fortuitously finds you while he was walking back from practise. he sees you looking down at the floor and he can tell why, your partner is now your ex. he smirks and walks up to you, before he announces himself he hides the smirk and crosses his arms. "what's wrong with you princess?"

still looking down you reply, "go away tsukishima."

"don't be like that. i just want to know what happened."

"i got dumped."

without misses a beat tsukishima responds, "it's for the best. you two don't work together. it's wrong that you were with them."

when hearing this you look up with watery eyes, still sniffling, "did you have something to do with this kei?"

you've gotten use to what his slight change of expressions and body language really mean but there wasn't any indication this time even though this might be the biggest reaction he's ever had to you before. you called him kei. he always hated when people called him nicknames growing up, only really letting yamaguchi get away with it but you, you calling him by his given name? he wants to hear you say it everyday, it sounds so beautiful coming out your mouth. what would it sound like if you were moaning his name?

he has no physical reaction at you saying his given name, staying collected, as he lies to you, "i don't know what you mean princess."

"it looked like he was punched. he has a huge bruise on his face."

"nothing to do with me. i'm sure whatever it was he deserved it though."

"i don't believe you." and you don't, the way he knew you were even dating someone in the first place is suspicious and it does seem to you that it is something tsukishima would do, punching someone, breaking up your relationship, and then not admitting to it.

tsukishima tilts up your chin making you keep eye contact with him and then squeezes your chubby cheeks, not hard enough to hurt you though. "that's fine by me princess. just know you're fucking mine."

you start crying again and you're not even sure why, maybe it's because tsukki tilted your head up so carefully or maybe it's because he called you princess. maybe it's because he said you're his. maybe it's because of him that you got dumped. maybe it's because he looks really attractive in that purple shirt he's wearing. you don't know. tsukki kisses your forehead. "i've got to go and meet kuroo but i'll see you soon alright. make sure you go inside soon, it's going to get cold and it might rain," he murmurs gently. he squeezes your chubby cheeks one more time and wipes your eyes before getting up and leaving to go meet kuroo.

you hold your hand on your cheek to where tsukki's hand was and take a deep breath to calm down. you hurry to take cover inside before it rains.

bully tsukishima masterlist

[luveline]

kbd steve and r dealing with two of the girls holding a grudge/fighting and helping them make up 🥹🥹🥹

kbd —mom!reader and dad!steve attempt to get their girls to forgive each other

“I thought they’d just forget,” you whisper. 

Steve looks over your shoulder, hand on your waist, the smell of hot butter bubbling on the stove like an itch in his nose. “Right? Like, they’d sleep and forget. Especially ‘cos they like sharing the bed.” 

Avery and Beth sit as far away from one another as is humanly possible. Beth sits with Dove toward the head of the table, frowning as her little sister climbs onto her legs and tries to comb her hair, while Avery sits by the open kitchen door. She’s pretending to poke at the snail that lives under the stoop, but she’s really on the edge of tears. 

They’re fighting because Avery took one of Beth’s fruit slices yesterday at lunch (warm pastries that all the kids can’t get enough of). When Steve asked her about it, she lied and said Beth actually ate one of her fruit slices, and Beth had been so betrayed she actually got mad. Beth never gets mad. 

Avery couldn’t take the guilt, confessing in tears the night before that she’d lied, and so you and Avery knocked Beth’s door together to apologise. Only Beth didn’t forgive her. 

It’s weird to see them not getting along. Avery and Beth are so sweet to each other usually. It’s odd that they aren’t sharing their breakfast, that they aren’t trying to feed the baby her mushy eggs. You and Steve are used to a more lovey-dovey feeling in the mornings. 

You dip down to sit with Avery when she does eventually start crying. “What’s the matter?” you whisper. 

Steve knows you’ve got the reins on that one, taking a seat by the other disgruntled party. 

“Is she crying?” Beth asks him softly. 

“Yeah, baby.” 

“‘Cos of me?” 

“It’s not like that.” He pulls Dove off of Beth’s lap before the toddler can trample her. Dove frowns at him but decides to allow it, resting in a lump against his chest. He pats her back. “She feels bad that she upset you, and she lied, and she wishes you were feeling better.” 

It must be strange to be young and be terrified that nobody will believe you, even over something as small as a fruit slice. Steve can’t imagine what he’d feel like now having to justify things to his parents. Or maybe it was that Avery’s never done something like that, at least not that Beth could remember. 

“She lied,” Beth stresses. 

“I know. But she did say sorry, honey, and she promised you two of her fruit slices today to make up for it. Maybe we can be friends again?” Steve says. 

If Beth wants to be mad a little while longer, that’s okay, but from the looks of her where she’s looking back and forth between Steve and the open kitchen door, she’s ready to forgive, or make her sister feel better at the very least. 

“It’s nice to forgive someone,” Steve says. “It’s kind. Avery didn’t wanna get in trouble, but she got you in trouble instead, so it’s cool if you’re still grumpy.” 

“I’m not grumpy.” 

Steve gives her an encouraging smile. “I know. It’s up to you, baby. Between you and me though, I think Avery’s super duper sorry.” 

In your lap, Avery sniffles. Dove climbs down off of Steve as Beth slips from her chair, then looks back for Steve. “Will you tell her I’m not mad?” Beth asks him. 

He wriggles his fingers. She takes his hand. 

It’s an unusually cold morning for the season, Steve can see your arms have wrinkled with goosebumps where they’re wrapped tight behind Avery’s back. You’d already given her a scolding for lying last night, and you and Steve are one and done with parenting; you don’t comfort her reluctantly, you just comfort. “It’s okay,” you say under your bread, swaying her from one side to the other. 

“Hey,” Steve says, crouching down to catch your attention. 

“Hello.” You see Beth, and you smile with relief. “Hi.” 

“Beth has something she wants me to tell you, Ave,” he says, nudging her arm gently with his knuckles to catch her attention. She peers up tearily from your arm. “She said she’s not mad anymore, okay? She wants to be friends again.” 

Avery looks at Beth cautiously. “Really?” she asks. It’s hard not to hear how hopeful she sounds. Steve feels extremely sympathetic, and he can’t help thinking she’s cute. She’s such a sweetheart, just like Beth, and Dove, and baby Wren he’s sure will end up the same. Like you. He can’t count how many times you and him have argued over the years, but every time it ends with you being more sorry than you need to be, and usually some of Steve’s guilty tears. 

“Yes,” Beth says, “so please don’t cry anymore.” 

Avery pouts. “You wanna give your sister a hug?” you prompt. 

Avery jumps up and throws herself at Bethie, almost knocking her younger sister down. Steve puts his hand behind them to stop a calamity. “I’m sorry, Bethie,” Avery squeaks, her voice high with upset and scratchy as she squeezes Beth tightly. 

“It’s okay! I’m not mad!” 

“I know!” Avery sniffles. “I’m still sorry. I told dad you ate my slice but you didn’t, I’m sorry.” 

“She’s forgiven you, baby,” you say, patting Avery’s shoulder. “It’s all water under the bridge. Yeah?” 

Beth holds Avery by the arm as they pull away. “Yeah. Water un’ the bridge.” 

“Thank you,” Avery says. “I don’t like when you’re mad.”

You and Steve make similar expressions of love and empathy over their small heads.  

[authorhjk1]

Can you please make a smut about MINA getting laid by some rich white guy after the fendi event.

Connections

Mina

Connections are everything. That's what Mina found out throughout the last couple of years. As along as she has friends that are up high enough, she can get anything. A better contract with JYP, her own house, a car, power, all of it.

And how does she become friends with those important people? It's simple actually.

Mina can't hide her smile as she walks towards the big building in front of her, cameras flashing while she waves.

It really is easy to make all those rich guys listen to her. It doesn't even take that long.

Throughout the event, she lays eyes on a guy who seems to be the most important man in the room. His suit looks really expensive. Her plans are disrupted though. Mina sees his wife hanging onto his arm.

A smirk plays around her lips before she takes a sip of the champagne. Since she is a huge introvert, people never pay much attention to her at these events as long as she doesn't speak too much.

But she can use that to her advantage. His wife looks way older than her. And Mina knows how pretty she is herself.

It really doesn't take long. She catches his eyes once. A couple of coy glances in his direction. A longer stare across the room that takes a couple of seconds. A seductive smile. A bite on her finger.

And here she is now. A couple of minutes later. In one of the rooms upstairs. The man's hands on her waist, his wife forgotten.

Mina feels how his lips travel along her neck. She let's out a moan as she tilts her head back.

She tried to justify her actions when she first started this. She told herself that she is only doing this for money and favours. But after a while, Mina liked the idea of some stranger fucking her. At an event where everyone else is oblivious.

"Let me see your cock."

Mina kneels on the carpet in front of him, giving him another seductive glance, before she starts to undo his pants. The man strokes her hair, encouraging her to take his cock into her mouth. It's not the biggest she's had, but it's more than enough to have fun with.

Her lips part as Mina starts her blowjob. Her hands are at the base of his shaft, slowly stroking him. He keeps his hand in her hair, occasionally pulling her a little further onto his cock.

"I'm usually not a woman like this."

She gives him a coy smile.

That's what she tells all of those guys. She found out that she can get even more favours like this. The men think they are something special to her.

"Really?"

He smiles down at her in disbelief.

"My parents are very conservative. I promised them that I would stay pure until marriage. But when I saw you..."

Mina's words trail off as she resumes her blowjob. She can feel how the man gets even harder at her words. She tries to hide her smile as she keeps sucking him off.

"How are you so good at this?"

He asks, while he feels how Mina's tongue glides along the length of his shaft with every bob of her head.

"I'm a natural, I guess."

She keeps up this fake innocence, knowing that this will be even more beneficial.

Mina can feel how this whole thing makes her pussy wet. Sucking off some stranger at an event. His wife downstairs. All of it makes her horny as fuck.

"You wanna put it in?"

"What?"

He is surprised. He thought, Mina would only give him head.

"I-I'm really needy."

No one can resist her coy smile. Especially if she is on her knees with a cock in her hand.

"Of course."

He helps her up, before letting his hands roam all over her dress. Mina sighs again as she feels his lips on her flawless skin. He kisses her shoulder, before he slowly pulls off the straps of her dress.

The top is now bunched up around her waist, exposing her tight midriff and her white bra. He doesn't know that Mina is wearing a push-up bra. She came prepared, ready to entice her next victim with her ample chest.

"Please hurry. We have to be downstairs soon. I don't want to be caught."

Mina is wet enough already, she doesn't need further stimulation. She let's her dress fall onto the floor, staying true to her own words.

He can't help but admire her slim figure. His wife hasn't looked this fit for a couple of years now. And Mina also looks a little younger. A little less experienced.

All of it drives him further into her trap.

He pushes her white underwear to the side, exposing her pussy.

Mina lets out a moan as he let's his fingers glide over her lower lips. He notices how wet she is. Her folds glisten with arousal.

The young woman leans against the wall behind her, the man leans down to kiss her lips. He plays with her pussy for a couple of moments as the two of them exchange a heated kiss.

"Please..."

Mina begs, asking him to fuck her. To forget about his wife. To cheat on her.

A lewd moan escapes her mouth as she feels his cock graze her pussy lips. Another one leaves her lips as he pushes inside of her.

He can't believe how tight Mina is. It makes his desires for her even stronger. He needs to fuck her. Hard.

Pushing further inside, he almost loses control, her walls hugging him almost painfully tight.

"Please... Please be gentle. You are so thick."

He smiles at her words, slowing down a little.

Mina stares up at him, her head resting against the wall as he slowly moves in and out of her pussy. Her hands find his shoulders, while his are holding onto her waist.

For the following minutes, the room is almost quiet. Except for the occasional moan from Mina and the man's groans. They either engage in a lustful kiss, or place their lips on each other's bodies.

Mina can feel how his grip on her waist becomes stronger over time. How his thrusts turn more powerful and deep.

Her legs quiver in response, his cock grazing her walls with every move. He stretches her out really well. Mina closes her eyes, enjoying this dirty feeling. This lewd moment.

It doesn't last much longer though.

"I-I think I'm close."

Mina opens her eyes again, feeling the man's cock twitch inside of her.

She starts to act innocent once again.

"W-Where can you cum so that no one notices?"

His low groan confirms that her magic is working.

"Maybe your pussy?"

It's a bold move. Mina manages to make herself blush.

"Wouldn't someone be able to see it, if it runs down my legs? And maybe even gets on my feet?"

"Aren't you gonna wear your panties?"

Mins nods, knowing he is only moments away from blowing his load.

"But I think it's too risky."

She lets a finger run along her lips.

"I'd rather swallow your cum."

The look on his face almost makes her laugh. He tries his best to keep himself together, lazily thrusting in and out of her, hoping he could postpone his orgasm as much as possible. But her last words finally trip him over the edge.

His cock slips out of her and Mina immediately kneels down again. Her face on the same height as his cock once more.

"Please cum in my mouth."

She sounds so innocent, while her words are laced with lust.

He can't help himself but thrust into her mouth. Her warmth welcomes him, her tongue working on his shaft.

He finally cums down her throat a couple of moments later. Mina feels his thick load paint her mouth. The saltiness makes her moan around his cock.

Mina smiles into the camera. As if nothing happened. But she can feel the lack of panties underneath her dress. She gave them to her new 'friend'. A sign for him to give her what ever she wants.

She can still taste a small hint of his cum on her tongue. Her smile is genuine. She is excited to go home.

--------

Sorry for the long wait, I hope this is what you had in mind.

For everyone else who plans to send in requests, please feel free to write more than just a sentence. Not because I lack ideas, but because we have different thoughts in our minds. I might interpret parts of your request wrong, or at least different. So please don't be disappointed, if these turn out differently from what you had in mind.

Thank you for reading.

Stay healthy!

[walliedarling]

Vitamin C

You and Wally are the only inhabitants of Home who can eat. Wally, as is in his nature, is curious about anything he's unfamiliar with, including this. You decide to humour him, then humour him a little more... Hesitantly.

Notes: Human Reader AU (you were transported to Home and keep your human body) Hypnosis, Mild Horror Elements, Mild Body Horror, Non-Sxual Body Exploration. (you eat an apple. that’s all :)!)

“You’re not kidding, right? You really want to see?”

You don’t think that Wally would lie to you, or push a joke this far. Still, you fail to see the appeal in this. You hold the apple Wally has given you by its stem, and twirl it around.

“I’m not joking at all,” he responds. His eyes linger on the apple you’re holding, before his gaze drifts back to your face. “Do you mind? I wouldn’t want to make a friend do something they don’t want.”

Wally is the first one who has asked to see you eat right to your face, but you know that it’s yet another surprising aspect of your body to everyone living here. More surprising than the feeling of your skin, the number of your fingers, and the texture of your hair. Some are better at hiding their reactions than others. Some don’t try to hide them at all, like Wally. He’s here to have his curiosity sated, and you can’t deny that you have questions of your own.

“No, no, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me,” you say, answering honestly. It’s a little weird, nothing more than that. You’re used to that by now. “So, hm… None of you really eat? The food’s just for show?”

Wally is quiet for a moment. He folds his hands over each other, and taps one of his fingers on the top of his hand, the rhythm even.  

“The others don’t. They think their favourite foods are pretty, that’s all,” he says. “But I do. I eat. I get hungry. Like you do.”

“Oh, uh, really?” His answer catches you off-guard. You wrack your brain for memories of any instance of seeing Wally eat, yet turn up empty. You continue speaking before he has the chance to respond. “I’ve never seen you do it, though.”

Wally smiles wider, his eyes squinting a little. “Maybe you haven’t been looking well enough,” he says. Whatever that means. You sigh through your nose. Another skill that only you are capable of in this small town.

“I wanna see how you eat too then. You can’t say that and expect me not to be curious,” you tell him. You’re curious now, and it’s nice to have something substantial in common with one of your neighbours. It’s mostly your curiosity speaking . Where does he even leave it? “I-if you don’t mind.” You quickly add. Wally was considerate enough to ask as well, and you have no idea if there are any weird implications behind what you’re stating.

“It’s fine with me,” he says, looking at the apple once more, and back at you. “ You should go first, since I asked first. I’ll show you after, is that alright? Promise.” Wally is the type of person to keep his word, you know that.

“Fine by me. I’m kind of hungry, anyway.” You bring the apple to your mouth. It’s strange to eat with someone gazing so intently at you, his eyes practically boring holes into you. It makes you self-conscious of every single one of your movements. Something as simple as taking a bite no longer feels natural, and your nails press into the apple as you hold it in front of your mouth. You close your eyes.

Well, you might as well get started.

Your teeth sink into the apple’s flesh with a snap. When sap practically gushes out, your eyes shoot open and you let out a noise of surprise. A droplet or two run down your chin. Your face heats up, and Wally’s slow, stilted laughter doesn’t help your embarrassment. With the back of your hand, you wipe your chin clean. You hadn’t expected it to be this juicy. It tastes good, at least. The perfect mixture of sour and sweet, and soft enough to easily chew through. You keep your mouth firmly closed the whole time. After that embarrassing moment, you want to at least refrain from making too much noise.

Wally leans his chin on one of his hands as he stares up at you. The height difference between the two of you is noticeable, even when sitting down. “What a messy way of eating, neighbour. I wasn’t expecting that.”  

You groan, and put your hand over your mouth. “It’s not usually like that,” you mumble. “I don’t know what I was doing there. It’s supposed to stay inside, and you just chew it up.”  You lower your hand, and smile sheepishly. This is more silly than anything truly embarrassing, honestly. The whole situation is odd, and has you more on edge than you should be.

“Chew?” he repeats, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah.” You open your mouth and point at your teeth. “That’s what these are for. My teeth. They grind it up, so it doesn’t get stuck anymore.”

“Ohhh,” he draws out the noise. His fingers tap on his cheek. “I was wondering about that. I thought they were filling up empty space, and that’s all.” The only times Wally looks away from your eyes is when he moves to stare at something else. This time, at your teeth. “Can you show me that, too?”

You frown. “What, the chewing?”

Wally simply nods in response. You hesitate.

“It’s… Impolite to chew with your mouth open,” you explain. It’s an unwritten rule that you don’t have any clear memory of, yet know to be true. A bit of knowledge so ingrained into your mind that it has left an impression on you deeper than a memory. (How stupid. You wish you could remember anything more about where you came from.) “And it looks gross. I don’t recommend it.”

“Why would it be impolite? I’m the one asking you to do it. I would like to see.” He blinks up at you multiple times, his smile softening around the edges. “Pretty please?” You laugh, and shrug your shoulders as Wally’s expression returns to its usual. It takes you some effort to wrestle your eyes away from the dark pools of his eyes, and look at the apple you bring to your mouth.

“Okay, whatever. Since you asked so nicely,” you tease lightly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You take another bite out of the apple, larger than the last. Like Wally asked, you keep your mouth open, and try not to think too hard at what you’re doing. Instead of speeding through it, you chew slowly, to keep the amount of gross, smacking noises to a minimum. Wally hums as he watches. His pupils move up and down with the rising and falling of your teeth, his eyes even more lidded than usual.

“You really do crush it to bits. I see, I see… How different.” he mumbles to himself. If there’s anything he doesn’t seem to be, it’s disgusted. He doesn’t look fazed at all. You’re forced to close your mouth when swallowing, and Wally blinks when you show him it’s all gone. “Where does it go?”

“It goes down,” you respond. You press a finger to the outside of your throat, and trace it down to about where your stomach must be. It’s difficult to think of a way to explain this to him without causing more confusion. “There’s a kind of… Pipe? A hollow part. It leads down to another place, where the food gets burnt up.”  

“Burned?” Wally’s eyes widen. “You have a fire inside of your body? Ah, is that why you are always so warm…? That seems very uncomfortable, friend. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m completely fine!” That definitely wasn’t the right way to use, and you smile at your own silliness. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… I– I don’t really know how to explain it to you. It’ll sound weird no matter what I say.”

Wally remains quiet for a few moments longer, as if waiting to hear if you will offer any further explanation. “That’s alright. I don’t mind. Some things are difficult to explain. I don’t think I could explain to you how I eat, either. Bodies can be a little silly.”

“That’s one way to put it.” you respond, smiling. Without thinking, your tongue darts out of your mouth and licks at your lips, licking up some of the sap you had failed to clean up earlier. It would’ve gone entirely unnoticed by you if Wally hadn’t brought attention to it.

“Your tongue is funny too. I can’t do that, only this.” He sticks his tongue out in a straight line, before pulling it back inside. It’s made out of felt like the rest of him, like your body is made out of flesh. “Yours looks squishy. Can I touch it?”

That’s where you draw the line. You’re fine with him watching you eat, find him asking you to do so with your mouth open a semi-acceptable level of strangeness, but you’re not going to let him pull at your tongue. Your face is burning up. Despite your reservations, you assume that Wally doesn’t think there’s anything strange about asking this. Hadn’t Julie asked you for a couple of strands of your hair to take a closer look at? Hadn’t Frank practically interrogated you on all kinds of subjects when you recently arrived, trying to figure out what kind of creature you were? Still… You don’t really want him to do this.

“Well, I…” You trail off. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you can’t look away from Wally’s eyes. When you shake your head, the movement is difficult and sluggish. It feels as if you were underwater, fighting against a membrane limiting your movements. The apple sits in your lap, forgotten. Wally’s eyes are so, so big.

Wally leans in closer, smiling as he looks at you. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be careful.”

This is weird. You don’t want this. However, thinking becomes too much effort as Wally hovers in front of your face. Your mouth hangs open the slightest bit, though whether through subconscious obedience, or because you’re so out of it that your facial muscles simply relaxed, you don’t know. Wally keeps your face still with one hand, using his other hand to coax your mouth open further.

He doesn’t immediately go for your tongue. Instead, he pokes at your front teeth, running his finger along the bottom. For a moment, he lingers on one of your canines, and laughs. 

“Ha, ha, ha. I thought they would’ve been sharper.” He runs the pad of his pointer finger over your teeth, until he reaches your molars, and the back of your mouth. A shudder shoots through you, and you lurch backward.

“It’ll hurt if you go deeper.” With his finger still in your mouth, your voice sounds somewhat distorted.

Wally blinks slowly. “...Me, or you?”

It’s difficult to keep a solid train of thought going, and even harder to speak. Your eyes are nearly entirely slid shut. The world around you is hazy. Yet, you know that Wally is looking right at you.

“Both of us.” You can’t quite remember why it would be bad if he pushed down further. All you know is that it’ll be bad.

Wally pulls his hand back. He prods at your tongue instead, which twitches in response to his touch. You let out a noise of discomfort, and he shushes you. “It’s softer than I expected. What’s that on it?” Another finger enters your mouth. He pinches your tongue in between two of his fingers. As he rubs the bottom of it with one of them, more and more spit starts to accumulate in your mouth.  

You try to answer his question, though a part of you knows very well it’s no use. What leaves your mouth is incomprehensible gibberish as your tongue wriggles in his grasp. Wally laughs harder than he has during your whole interaction so far.

“Oh, so it’s for speaking, too? How silly.” He retreats from your mouth. You let out a sigh, and the haze in your head clears a tad as he stares at the spit covering his fingers. With his clean hand, he reaches inside his own mouth and mirrors what he earlier did to you. You try not to stare too hard into his mouth. It’s a black expanse that seems to lead nowhere. “Another difference. I can still speak while doing this!” He laughs again, and repeats himself. “Another difference.”

He speaks as unobstructed as if there were nothing in his mouth at all. Your face scrunches up. This feels like missing the last step while going down the stairs, expecting something that isn’t there.

“Now, now,” Wally places both of his hands back in his lap, and smiles at you. “It’s not very nice to look at your friend like that.” Your head feels heavier. Though your eyes hurt, you can’t blink.

“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” Your way of speaking is languid, and you don’t know what you’re saying until you’ve heard the words spoken out loud.

“Apology accepted. I’ll ask you one more question to make it up for that, though!” He winks at you. “Your voice… It comes from somewhere else other than your tongue, right? I still heard noise.”

Your arm moves. Your hand ends up at your throat. Your head leans to the side. “Here. It vibrates.”

Wally doesn’t ask you for permission before touching you this time. His hand, light and soft, rests on your throat. You feel the spit on his fingers rub against your skin. You hum a short tune. Your vocal cords vibrate accordingly.

Wally squeezes your throat tighter, though you can still breathe fine. One of his hands rests on your thigh. He taps two of his fingers on your skin in a rhythmic, repetitive pattern. It matches up perfectly with the beating of your heart.

“What’s that?” he asks, his voice going lower and lower as he speaks. “The pounding.” You swallow, and feel it slide down your throat.

“My heart,” you respond as quietly as he speaks. You’re not sure why, it merely feels like the natural thing to do. “It… Keeps everything moving, I guess. I think. All the parts moving.”

Wally laughs softly. “You have so many moving parts. Your body can do so many different things. So different from ours… Carrying so much inside. No wonder you have to eat.” You’re not sure whether it’s his proximity, or if the speeding up of his fingers on your thigh is what is making your heart race.

“It’s going faster.” The pressure around your throat increases. “What’s it saying? What does it tell you?”

“N… N-nothing.” you have to squeeze the words out of you. “It’s not alive.”

Wally slowly shakes his head. “It’s not another thing. It’s a part of you. It’s alive, and it’s trying to tell you something.” He hums. “Maybe you can’t understand it yet. I couldn’t understand Home at first, either. And you have so much inside you.” He loosens his grip on your throat. You suck in a deep breath, and lean forward.

The mist disappears from your brain. When you look up at him, Wally is smiling at you. “Thanks for the meal!”

You glance down at your lap. The apple that had been resting there the whole time, with only two bites taken out of it, has disappeared.

[beomboomboom]

Drunk with love

genre: fluff, established relationship

pairing: Seungcheol x reader

summary: Seungcheol has experienced your drunk self more than once before. He's seen everything. He's seen you dramatically confess your love to him years ago, he's seen you yell love song lyrics for him at the top of your lungs. But this was the first time you forgot that you and Seungcheol were dating altogether.

warnings: alcohol/drinking, a little bit of swearing (like very little)

note: based on the results of this poll. I hope you enjoy the fic <33

"Cheolliee~ can you pick me up?"

Seungcheol lets out a sigh at the sound of your tipsy voice. He knew it was a bad idea to let you go out drinking with your friends.

Not that your friends were bad influences or anything, but when you got drunk, you got drunk.

Meaning, you couldn't even walk three steps without either throwing up or passing out.

"Okay baby, I'm going to come get you. Just wait outside the bar okay?"

"Okiee~ the world is spinningg...," he hears your intoxicated voice say. Taking that as a sign, he grabs a few plastic bags and stuffs them in his pocket on the way out of the house, already preparing for what he knows is to come.

As Seungcheol gets into his car and sets off towards the direction of the bar where you're at, he hears your drunk self let out a whine, "Where aree you Cheolliee, I need to tell you somethingg."

Phone still pressed against his ear, Seungcheol lets out a little laugh, amused at the way you're acting.

Deciding to humor your drunk self, he replies softly, "hmm, okay. How about you tell me when I come get you, does that sound alright?"

He can already picture what you're looking like at this point. Your cheeks are probably littered in a pink hue, evidence of your drinking activities, your hair a pretty mess, and your lips in a pout. You're also probably going cling onto Seungcheol the moment he finally arrives to pick you up.

Seungcheol smiles softly at the thought.

Even though dealing with your drunk self is a pain in the ass, he still loves it nonetheless. The way you show your unfiltered love to him is something that always makes him laugh and his heart swoon.

"but cheol...what I'm going to tell you...I might regret..."

Seungcheol's heart stops at your words.

No longer humoring your intoxicated words, Seungcheol worriedly ponders what in the world you could possibly mean. Seungcheol knows that when you're drunk, your filter completely disappears, which makes him worried. What kind of secret were you keeping from him that would make you say "I might regret this"?

"What do you mean by that baby?"

"well....I'll tell you in person. It's better that way. OH! I see your car, I'm coming in."

Seungcheol watches your figure, holding your phone to your ear, as you shakily stand from the bench outside the bar and stumble closer and closer to his car.

Before crumpling to the ground unexpectedly.

"Oh shoot," Seungcheol mutters under his breath as he quickly jumps out of the car and helps you stand up.

"You okay baby? Let's get in the car hm?"

But rather than replying and letting Seungcheol lead you into the car, you simply lean against Seungcheol and begin to cry. Eyes widening, Seungcheol quickly takes your face in his hands and wipes your tears away with the pads of his fingers.

"Awww baby, do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

"I-I-I" you start to say, and let out a small hiccup before shouting," I LOVE YOU!"

"Well, I lov-" Seungcheol starts to reply, but is quickly interrupted by your drunken rambling.

"I know this might ruin our friendship or whatever, but I can't stop my feelings for you. I just love you too much. I love you so much that i'll break the promise we made in second grade to never have a crush on one another. I love you so much that i'll risk our friendship to tell you that I love you. And I love you so much that if you don't love me back, I'll accept it."

With each word being let out of your mouth Seungcheol can feel his endearing smile grow by the second.

"Baby, I think you don't understand. We're dating right now. We were best friends before, but then you confessed to me just like how you're doing now. "

"What no way. You're lying to me. Stop joking around with me Cheollie," you say, a furrow in your brow as you try to decipher the new information.

"I'm not," Seungcheol replies, with a little laugh under his breath at the situation. The way you can't believe you're dating him makes him want to giggle and kiss you senseless at the same time.

"Then show me," you challenge, deadly serious.

Wasting no time, Seungcheol gently grabs your face with his hands and places a chaste peck on your lips. "Let's go home now hm?"

Smiling contently, you let Seungcheol take hold of your hand, and lead you towards the car.

It's after you and Seungcheol take around three steps when your eyes widen and you mutter a quiet "uh oh" and shake Seungcheol's shoulder vigorously.

Already knowing what's about to happen, Seungcheol swiftly takes out a plastic bag from his pocket and hands it to you. As you get all of the alcohol out of your system and into the plastic bag, Seungcheol holds your hair away from your face and rubs comforting circles on your back. "How about we go home and get cleaned up. Does that sound okay with you?

You manage a small nod in response and lean on Seungcheol as he helps you get into the car and buckle your seatbelt. In only a few seconds Seungcheol buckles his own seatbelt too and you and Seungcheol make the short journey home.

As Seungcheol is driving home, he gazes at your passed out figure in the passenger seat. Shaking his head, he simply smilies and lets out an endearing laugh,"you better repay me with lots of kisses and cuddles tomorrow."

[cinnbar-bun]

Smooth Operator- (One Piece Men X Reader)

Scenario: “His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold.”

Featuring: Benn Beckman, Crocodile, Rob Lucci, Shanks, and Smoker (separate)

Rating: NSFW

Notes: Rough sex, GN reader (no specific genitalia described), slight angst but oh well haha, possessive Lucci, reader is a pirate in Smoker’s section.

Word Count: ~1.1k

You can read on my AO3 here!

Work is under the cut!!

Benn Beckman

“Fuck… sweetheart…” he whispers into your ear as he lifts your leg higher up. “Tightenin’ around me so well.”

His hand that is gripping your waist rubs gentle circles with his thumb. He can’t stop how addicted he feels pressing into you, having you clench around him so deliciously, and your lovely, sweet voice crying out his name. It’s a beautiful sight to see whenever he drops by. But you both know he won’t stay long, so you try to savor as much as you can. You, the gentle touches and looks in his eyes that make you believe that this time, maybe, just maybe, he’ll take you with him. Him, the way your body feels around his and the way your face contorts with pleasure at every thrust. He has half a mind to run off and leave everything behind for you. To say screw it and keep himself beside you.

“Beck-! Beck!” You choke out his name, pulling him in closer, and lord, it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you and confess how much he fucking adores you.

“Easy there, darling. I’m right here,” he smoothly replies, for both of your sakes. He feels how close you are and works himself faster. “Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Crocodile

The smell of alcohol and cigar smoke is heavy in his private room. You always say it won’t happen again, but then those dark eyes of his lock onto yours, and now you’re back at it. In his office, a disheveled mess, bouncing on his thick cock while he grips your waist tightly.

“S-Sir!” You whine, as he taps his cigar on his ashtray and takes another puff. You feel the cold metal of his hook around your back. Despite his attitude, he’s made it a point to never let that golden hook cut you or slice your delicate skin. He just prefers the hook tearing the fabric of your clothes apart.

“Good little thing,” he states, a chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest as he tilts your chin up to him and kisses you roughly. The rings on his hand press into your skin coldly. As he does so, his hook tugs at the remaining bits of fabric and lets the shreds fall to the ground.

“You don’t need them when you’re with me,” he says. A partial lie, to obscure the truth that he wants you to stay longer and desire his help. You moan quietly before he silences you with his lips once more.

Lucci

“I thought I told you to avoid him,” he states, unimpressed with the man who has been getting too comfortable with you. Lucci’s possessiveness towards you has increased for some reason, despite him insisting it was just casual- that he can never love and will never love you. You somehow agreed, and now here he was, covering your mouth with his hand while he fucked you from behind in an attempt to remind you of his prowess. He shoves two fingers inside your mouth, and without any hesitation or instruction, you begin to suck on them.

“Do you need me to punish you for your foolishness? Or did you think I was stupid enough to not find out?” Lucci hisses. You haven’t done anything wrong, he knows this deep down, but god, seeing that man think of trying to be around you sends Lucci’s blood boiling.

He doesn’t love you. He can’t love you. He never will love you. This is just for pleasure, and you’re just his stress relief, a toy he uses for his own sake.

He grips you tighter and tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “You belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else.”

Shanks

He's never serious. He’s always arriving at your house with that damned smile of his, always easing you up and promising “it’s just a reunion between old friends!” Then he always manages to fold you over any piece of furniture within your house. You wouldn’t be shocked if he had managed to fuck you in every part of your house.

“You’re so….!” You struggle, all while Shanks chuckles and continues to thrust into you. Despite being a bit tipsy and only having one arm, Shanks manages to hit all your sensitive spots- spots he’s become very acquainted with after all these sessions with you.

“Dashing? Handsome?” He begins. You let out a loud moan at particularly rough thrust, which makes him laugh boisterously. “Ah, am I too good for you? No words to describe how amazing I am?”

You want to say he’s awful, that he’s ruining your life with how crazy he makes you, but then he hits that spot again and you crumble.

“Shanks… please…” you beg pathetically, and Shanks nods.

“Anything for my darling~,” the redhead smiles as he leans down to kiss your neck. “Gods, I love you.”

He states it so casually, that you can never tell if he’s being genuine or just messing with you. You don’t know if you can even handle the truth from him anymore.

Smoker

“Think I wouldn’t have noticed, huh?” He growls in your ear. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he bullies his thick cock into you. You don’t even know what he’s noticed this time, as it’s probably another one of his lame excuses to get you close. Not that you care, as you enjoy this game of cat and mouse with him.

“Wearing all that… sitting in that bar and acting all innocent,” he answers for you. “Think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t catch you there? You’ve gotten too brazen, pirate.”

“Captain,” you begin, and you feel how he twitches inside you. “You’ve gotten too brazen yourself. How many times has it been now?”

“Don’t ask a question to mine. I’m the one who is asking the questions here,” he cuts you off, continuing to bury himself within you. “I don’t wanna hear shit from that mouth of yours except what I want.”

You smirk at how he’s doing his best to retain his hardass personality, but it’s clear he’s faltering. You taunt him further.

“Yes, sir~.”

At that, Smoker groans and fucks you at an even rougher pace.

“Say that shit again and I’ll turn you in!” He yells, as if he even had the heart to do such a thing to you. For some reason, you were someone he never could capture.

[sturnsbaebackup]

SHY - M. STURNIOLO (PART TWO)

i highly recommend reading part 1 first, which is linked here!

summary; after madi and nick set up their plan to make you and matt fall in love, you’re finally going over to their house to film for the first time… and the connection between you and matt only grows stronger

warnings: she/her pronouns used, mentions of gagging. purely fluff!!!

—

your car ride to the sturniolos apartment consists of nothing but a very happy madi in the passenger seat and severely shaky hands. so much that madi almost had to take your spot in the drivers seat a couple times because you haven’t been able to steer correctly.

when you arrive in the parking lot outside of their complex, you sit in the car for a minute to regain some control of your emotions. as deep breaths exit your nose, madi speaks up. “y/n, you’re going to be fine i promise. now can we go inside? i don’t want to keep them waiting any longer,” she begs. you exhale sharply, nodding your head as you grip the door handle.

before you can even realize it, you’re standing in front of their door as madi gently knocks on the door. you fully snap back into reality when you see matt’s face at the door, greeting you both with a big teethy grin. “hi guys! come on in!” he says, stepping aside for both you and madi.

their house isn’t necessarily the cleanest place you’ve ever seen, but you can tell that they put in somewhat of an effort to clean it for you guys. you smile at nick as he comes running to the door, pulling you into a tight hug. “y/n, hi! i’m so glad you came!” he smiles, making your heart swell with joy. even if you’re in shambles from your nerves, you’re still super joyous that you’ve been adapted into their lives so quickly.

“so before we start the video, we need to go to the grocery store. for some context, we’re doing a challenge where we all buy a few gross or weird foods of our choice, and line them up on the counter. we have an app that when you put a bunch of fingers on it, it randomly selects someone and whoever gets picked has to eat the next food item in the lineup,” nick explains.

“oh god, this sounds awful,” you groan, earning a laugh from a few people.

“this sounds fun y/n! lighten up,” matt teases, nudging your shoulder lightly as he does so. you blush a little and that pit from a few days ago immediately comes back.

“okay people we don’t have all the time in the world, so let’s go!” nick exclaims, pushing you and madi out the door. the five of you get into the car, driving to the closest grocery store. you all go in and make sure to separate so that you don’t spoil your items to one another. each person is supposed to buy 3 items so that the total will add up to 15 items. your items of choice are horse radish, sardines, and to be nice you decide to add unicorn pudding cups.

while you’re using the self checkout, you see chris appear in the line in your peripheral vision. you notice him trying to peak at your items, and you turn your head to him. “stop cheating chris!” you say sternly, making him roll his eyes.

“i wasn’t even looking at you y/n,” he lies, knowing damn well you both know he’s bluffing. you just chuckle to yourself and secretly place your items in your bag, making sure chris doesn’t see. eventually everyone finishes their quick shopping, and you all head back to the apartment to begin the video.

“hi guys! today we’re going to be playing disgusting food roulette, but we have a couple special guests with us! c’mere guys,” nick says, wrapping both his arms around you and madi to drag you both into frame.

“hi guys,” madi says softly with an awkward smile.

“and for those of you who don’t know who y/n is, she’s a great friend of madi’s, and one of our newest friends! her socials will be linked below, so go check out her stuff! she posts a lot on tiktok and instagram, so make sure to go follow her! you can expect to see her in a lot more videos,” nick says smiling at you. you smile back, truthfully unsure of what to say.

“yeah yeah okay we get it nick now stop kissing y/n’s ass and let’s reveal what foods we bought,” chris groans, making you flip him off.

“chris is just mad i caught him trying to look at my foods at self checkout,” you shrug. chris gasps and immediately throws his hands up in defense, “you’re just full of yourself! i was not looking at you,” he rolls his eyes playfully.

“okay chris, leave y/n alone,” matt chuckles, putting his bag of food on the counter. per usual, this sets off that feeling in your stomach once again, but not as bad as before. you’re starting to embrace the obvious feelings you have for matt, and you’re actually okay with that. once everyone reveals their items, it’s time to let the fun begin. “okay guys put your finger down on the phone screen! whoever’s finger gets the little white dot under it has to eat the food,” nick says as you all place your fingers on the phone screen.

the first couple of items on the counter aren’t very bad, but as you further along the line things start to get bad. unfortunately you get chosen to eat the horseradish. “clearly this is my karma for buying this,” you groan, hesitantly placing the spoon into the jar. you quickly shove it into your mouth and swallow, trying to forget about the fact you’re eating horseradish. the taste fills your throat and begins stinging your nostrils from the pungent smell. you start gagging a little, and everyone bursts out laughing.

“fuck oh my god! this is disgusting!” you say, leaning over onto the counter in disgust. you pray that you get the coconut water since it’s the next item, but unfortunately it goes to matt. he takes a sip and scrunches his face a little, and you groan at the gross taste in your mouth. nick and chris are arguing in the middle of the kitchen, while you and matt stand off in the corner. “do you want a sip of my coconut water?” he chuckles, and you accept it gratefully. even if it tastes nasty, you still drink a few big gulps to get the taste of your previous item out of your mouth.

eventually it gets to sriracha sauce, and you’re afraid of getting that as an item seeing as you don’t do good with spices. and of course with your luck, you do. “oh fuck me!” you groan, lifting the spoonful of it off of the counter. you take a deep breath before putting it in your mouth, groaning at the burning sensation on your tongue and lips. you have an overwhelming mix of different disgusting tastes and sensations in your mouth, making you fall to the ground out of disgust and discomfort. everyone laughs at your reaction, and matt lifts his hand out for you to take as a guide back on your feet.

thankfully along the way you get a few good items, but the next item is that stupid pepper chris bought. everyone is deathly afraid of getting it, but unfortunately matt is the one who gets chosen. “you’re joking, you’re actually fucking joking! i’ve gotten all of the worst items!” matt cries out while dragging his hands down his face.

“oh no poor matt,” madi laughs, and matt just groans. he takes a bite of the pepper, and immediately his eyes start watering. he falls to the floor and just curls into a ball while groaning in pain. you all let out a laugh, but after a few moments you guys start getting a bit concerned.

“matt are you okay?” nick asks. matt just looks up at everyone and pouts with little tears welling up in his eyes. you make a little frown at him while letting out a little chuckle. he gets to his feet and stumbles over towards you, pulling you into a hug. he isn’t necessarily thinking clearly, seeing as his mouth, throat, lips, and basically sinuses are all on fire. your eyes widen, but you hug him back gently. you let out a few chuckles, and nick hands him a glass of milk to try and subside the burning sensation in his mouth.

“i’m going to bed, goodnight everyone,” he sadly laughs, waking to his room. you all burst out laughing and end the video without matt.

“someone should go check on him, y/n can you go make sure he’s alive? we need to clean everything up,” nick asks while giving a look to madi. you roll your eyes at the two of them, “yeah sure,” you say in an annoyed tone. they’re making their plan so obvious that even chris is starting to pick up on it.

you softly knock on matt’s door and you hear a muffled voice telling you to come inside. you walk in and his room is surprisingly clean. the lights are off and he’s laying in his bed hugging a pillow, with the empty glass of milk on his bedside table. “i was tasked to come make sure you’re alive. you doing okay?” you ask.

“my mouth is on fire,” he groans and you laugh a little.

“do you want me to get you anything?”

“more milk, please,” he practically begs. you nod and take his empty cup to the kitchen. when you bring it back to him, he’s now sitting up in his bed with his phone in hand.

“fuck, thank you so much y/n,” he says before chugging the whole cup in under 5 seconds. you let out a giggle and he just smiles at you bashfully. he pats the end of his bed, signaling you to sit down on it. your heart rate begins to increase but you do as you’re told and sit down.

“y/n, i know we just met and this might seem a little quick… but i think you’re really pretty and sweet. i was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab food sometime? and i know it’s a little awkward since you just saw me crying from eating a pepper, but it’s the first time i’ve actually gotten the chance to ask you this,” he chuckles and you laugh at the end of his sentence.

“oh my gosh of course matt! i’d love to,” you blush, this time not even worried if he can see your cheeks turning pink. you both figure out a date and time, meanwhile madi chris and nick are all secretly standing outside the door listening in. you exit matt’s room and you see them not so slyly trying to pretend they weren’t listening.

“you guys suck, you know that?” you jokingly say, and they all just shrug.

“have fun at dinner with matt on saturday,” nick winks as you exit their apartment. you just roll your eyes with a smile, “yeah yeah whatever nick.”

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Being His Sibling- Riddle Rosehearts

Idk the idea came to me. Yuu is GN— 6k words

Tws/Cws: Yuu is said to have medium length hair, Riddles mom is expectedly shitty and abusive, Yuu has shady behavior because of shitty abusive mom. Yuu is untrustworthy of Riddles friends for the first half. Hurt/comfort, angst with a good ending. No incest! Just Platonic!

Before NRC:

You were the older sibling of the Rosehearts family. Being the oldest, one of the very first things you have learned since becoming sentient is that a mothers love is no different from a mothers hatred. From the minute you could babble, your mother did everything she could do to control you. You weren’t allowed outside to play, you weren't allowed any snacks no matter how much your stomach rumbled. You weren't allowed to wear fun or silly stuff. And you were never allowed to fail or talk back.

Soon, your mother— the term rotted in your mouth— soon became pregnant again, and your precious little brother Riddle came to be. You remember your father holding you up to see the small bundle of joy in your mothers arms, excited that you may have a playmate. The excitement however, became resentment.

From the minute he was born, you were no longer a priority, usually being ignored in favor of the new addition to the family. Your chatter is ignored, your physical needs pushed aside, and your emotions bottled. Even when you went to talk to your baby brother and interact with him, mother would immediately begin to lecture you for seeing him without her permission, and you were locked away in your room to study. Yet whenever you peeked out, you saw your mother cooing and coddling Riddle, something you never really remember experiencing, but she would never play with the child.

Whenever you heard your mothers footsteps fade into the distance, you would come out to play, giving Riddle all the things you wish you were given. And one day, you heard his first words— your name. “Yu!” The baby gurgled, making you jump. “What did you say?” “Yuuu!” A wobbly smile grew on your face as you hugged the baby, in that moment promising yourself that you would always protect him

As you got older so did your brother, and mother did what she always does, control. But this time it was different. Mother would always praise Riddle for his studies, but never you. She was always lighter on his scolding, when she would scream at you. Though you were also locked away to study, she never really cared about your progress the same way she did Riddle’s. From there started a grudge that you would hold onto. What’s the point of doing anything mom wants when Riddle’s her precious little angel? If you don't matter at all what would it matter if you acted up?

Mother didn’t entertain your rebellious streak for long, the screaming match that came from you simply saying you wanted to go outside instead of reading left a mark on you. “I don’t get you, Yuu! I did everything for you! I cleaned you, I bathed you, I gave you life! I cook and clean for you! Why cant you be more like Riddle!” She screamed. “I'm sorry mama… I'm sorry!” Your child self babbled shakily while sobbing. “I just wanna play outside with the other kids!”

Father stepped in to try and stand up for you, but he got yelled at too. And you remember watching as your potential savior gave up on you, allowing mother to lock you away in your room again. And yet, you could still hear as she walked off, muttering insults under her breath, wondering why she ever had you.

Riddle soon became the age you were when you started ‘acting out’ and since then you’ve learned to be more sneaky. When mom went away you would sneak out to visit him in his room, playfully messing with him and getting him to take a break to play. “Won’t mom get mad?” Riddle asked, looking up at you with big stormy gray eyes. “As long as you don't tell her— that being said,” You dropped to your knees. You knew that even if she found out, you would be the one blamed for it, “Only I can visit you okay? Don’t come into my room..” “Why?” You chuckled, trying to find a believable excuse. “Cause my room is super boring! Seriously you won't like it.” “Oh.. okay!” Riddle beamed, allowing you to distract him from the theory books he’s forced to read, and telling him fairy tales instead to watch his eyes grow big with wonder.

Mom thought that you were no longer a problem. You never spoke up or out, you did as she said with your head bowed down, you always ate what she gave to you no matter how tasteless it was, and you excelled at your studies. Finally, she was relieved that you stopped resisting, not knowing how you actually were,

For months, you snuck out and played with Riddle in his room, even giving him the answers to some of the assignments mother forced him to do. At parties you were forced to attend, you went behind your mothers back to steal some sweets to sneak to Riddle, knowing how much he always wanted to try them. And when he was still hungry from the small portions of food he was given, you would give him yours, ignoring your own stomach just to see your brother beam.

One day however, Riddle came to your room. “What are you doing here? Only I can go into your room remember?” “Well, um, I know but…” Riddle pulled at your hand to guide you to his room. “There's people at my window!” “Really huh?” “Mmhmm!” Going into his room, you saw two figures peeking through. Both young boys, one a feline beast man with bright pink hair and a stunning smile, and the other a green haired boy with glasses closer to your age.

“They said they want me to play with them but I said I had to ask you first. Can I play with them? Please please please, Yuu?” Riddle pouted, and a pang of jealousy hit you for a moment before you let out a breath. You should be happy for your brother, even if you wish to join them, but you must stay behind and keep watch.

“Of course, Riddle.” You said. “Just come back in on my cue, okay? We can't let mom find out.” You smiled at him, helping him climb out of the window and outside, where you melancholically watched the trio play. It was okay though, your brother is happy just like you promised.

All good things came to an end, however. You were too late on your cue, and Mother found out. You have never heard Riddle cry as hard as he did that day in your entire life, his terrified wails leaving a scar on your heart. However you knew what came next was going to be worse. She was going to scream at you too. You heard Riddle apologize over and over and over and over— It was driving you insane.

Suddenly, you entered the room. You were going to get screamed at anyways, so what did it matter? “Yuu get out of here, dont think your off the hook either! I can’t believe you went behind my back like that! I thought your matured! Aren’t you supposed to be a role model for your little brother?!” “Aren't you supposed to be a mom?”

“Excuse me?!” The wretched woman demanded.

“You treat me and Riddle like shit!” The woman’s face contorted with shock at the language that she never taught you— unaware of the secret books you hid that she didn't approve of. “All you do is scream at us and lock us up! Whenever we ask for anything and do anything you don't like, you just scream at us!” You sobbed, “Why did you even have kids if you don't want to raise them!”

“Do not speak to you mother like that—“

“You’re not my mom! You are the worst mom ever! I hate you! Ever since Riddle was born you always ignored me! And you don't even take care of him either! This is why you and dad fight all the time! You’re never happy with anything. Even when I do everything you ask you're never impressed! All you do is scream! I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Your kid self sobbed, and mother seemed to forget about Riddle, harshly grabbing your arms and dragging off. As she did, you saw your father behind her, merely standing by, doing nothing to save you. You weren't allowed out of your room for days, you weren’t even allowed around Riddle without supervision either.

That's when you really became unruly. If mother locked the windows and doors of the house you would pick them and sneak out. When she conducts room checks, you memorize all the places she looks so you can keep your forbidden goods hidden. Mother hated you, and she made it known. Everything she said was a snide remark at you. How at 18 you will be kicked out. How awful of a kid you are. How fat you're getting since you're sneaking food. How your magic will never be as good as Riddles since you're slacking off.

One day, however, it all boils over. You don’t remember how old you were— 15? 16? Maybe 17? But what you do remember is mom starting up a classic screaming match, talking about how ungrateful and wicked you are. Comparing you to Riddle and saying how she hopes you haven’t corrupted him with your evilness.

“Don't you dare bring Riddle into this! This is between us. This argument is between us! How dare you accuse me of hating my brother, when you have done nothing but make his life hell, when all you have ever done is turn us against each other! When you placed my entire worth on a few pathetic books” You screamed back at her as the verbal abuse continued. Riddle soon came down from his room, as you looked at him.

He’s gotten taller now, and face slightly longer. He walks with perfect posture. Usually, you felt comfort in your brother, but you noted his unimpressed expression. “Riddle, please, don't get involved. This is between me and mom.”

“Why do you hate her so much?”

“What?”

“She’s right.”

Mother seemed to smirk as you turned to look at him

“You’re joking.” You sneer.

Riddle glares. “It's not her fault that you don't care for the rules. If you only followed them, you wouldn’t be in trouble all the time.”

“That's the issue, her rules always change for me so she has a reason to keep getting mad at me.”

“Maybe if you kept studying you wouldn’t be so stupid as to not understand the value of rules! She’s right! You have done nothing but cause trouble for as long as I can remember! If you would just listen—“

You shook with anger, “Don't you dare talk to me about listening, Riddle! I gave everything for you! Don't you dare pretend the happiest days of your miserable life weren't because of me! I did everything I could to try and look after you and you just—“

You were silenced by a loud slap across your face. It stung. You froze, holding the area as it bruised, bleeding in the areas where the nails made contact with your skin. “How dare you talk to your brother like that! Stop being so jealous over—“ You didn't register what she said, your ears ringing as eyes welling with tears as all you could was look at Riddle who seemed to stare at you with disdain.

This wasn't the Riddle you knew. The Riddle you grew up with. The Riddle that babbled your name as a baby. How long have you been protecting a stranger? Acting up so he can have the slightest bit of freedom that you longed for.

You narrowed your eyes before clenching your fists. "Shut up!" You snapped at your mother. "I'm sick of you! You want me gone? Fine! I'm out!" "Yuu Rosehearts! You go through that door I'm calling the police!" "Go ahead! Tell them what a shitty mom you are! And you!" You glare at Riddle before closing your eyes. "Just stay out of my life."

You walked out, snagging a fair amount of money that you saved over the years to book it out of the Queendom of Roses, finding your own place to crash at as you work a few jobs to keep yourself afloat, up until you are invited to NRC.

At NRC, before Riddle:

You were sorted into Heartslabyul, the dorm of law and order much to your surprise. You were expecting Scarbia or Savanaclaw given their dorms ‘survival of the fittest’ themes. Still, you would take what you could get.

As you stood in line for your dorm, you noticed a familiar green-haired man in the same group. Trey made eye contact with you, obviously surprised to see you, and gave you a nervous smile. You glared at him before looking away. You wanted nothing to do with the man that's responsible for feeding into Riddle’s issues. You both avoided each other, only interacting with necessary and never dragging anything out with each other.

Surprisingly, you thrived in Heartslabyul, able to heal your inner child with all the mundane tasks you had to do, even guiding others and helping them with theirs. You did well in school, usually getting the top score on every test. You had to get good grades for a good job, especially since your parents cut you off financially. You can’t afford to slack off, and yet, you helped to tutor others. Not to mention your magical knowledge and use was already ahead of most others.

At some point within the year, the dormleader approached you, much to your surprise. He noticed all you heard work and wanted to hand off the title to you. After all, next year he would be a senior and would have to go off campus. He would need someone to look after the dorm when that happens and after all he’s done, he needs a break.

Being a dorm leader would look great on transcripts on top of all the other benefits it had. You accepted, and the crown was passed down to you. You were honestly the best dormleader at the school given the fact you knew how to lead, were kind, and got all your shit and trauma together. You were relaxed, but still implemented rules, including all of the Queen of Hearts rules to honor her dorm. Of course, you weren't too strict.

“You need to have lemonade with two sugars,” You mentioned to your dormmate. “Eh- sorry dorm leader I’ll—“ “Don't panic, just stand up and drink it.” “Huh?” You smiled. “If you truly look at the rules and all the addendums, you’ll find a lot of loopholes. The rules says you have to sit down and have two sugars in lemonade. It didn't say what you couldn’t drink while standing.”

You smirked, your mothers rules and years of having to deal with shady jobs made it easy for you to find exploits in any sort of fine print handed your ways, and you were sure to try and teach your underlings the same. Even if they didn’t use exploits and didn’t care much for the crazy rules, you didn’t mind. You weren’t a tyrant. The entire dorm looked forward to each Unbirthday and Birthday party you planned, each one stretching traditions to their limit to offer something unique.

Your knowledge of contracts and high test scores even attracted the attention of other dorms, especially a certain octopus. When you caught some of your students in shady contracts, you would review it with them and point out everything they could take advantage of. This led to you being confronted by the Octavinelle housewarden pretty quickly, though annoyed he was quite impressed.

“Now there Yuu, I do hope you can not interfere with business.” “I don't plan to. If any of my dorm members decide to sign their life away, that's their fault. I can point out a few chips in the contract, but it’s not my job to save them.” Azul seemed impressed. “My, my, it’s quite rare to find someone so reasonable!” Azul smiled with his honeyed voice. “I do wonder how you did not end up in our dorm.”

***

On top of your housewarden duties, you also ended up finding a wonderful job working for Mostro Lounge, not at Mostro Lounge. Your quick thinking and keen eye helped to calculate Azul’s profits faster than he ever could— you had experience from your times of being homeless and couch surfing. On top of that, you would always point out where he could make a contract more water tight, or places where he could reword it so can exploit his victim for even more. It gave you work experience and a good wage that you and Azul both fought over in your business contract together.

Ironic how Azul ended up with another rowdy and rule breaking member under him, as you also stretched the contract you made to its limit. Azul for once didn’t mind too much, since you were fair as long as he was. Plus you keep those twins out of his way too.

After all of these years of working your ass off, you finally, finally made it. You had a stable home for the next few years. Food security! A job! Spare money for little things! Amazing grades! You made it! You would be fine! Despite everything you have gone through, you are going to be okay. You looked in the mirror of your room admiring the hair you dyed to cover up the ruby red locks of hair that tied you to your past. You were free.

It was one night in your dorm, where you were approached by Trey. Even though it has been a year, it was still awkward between you two, and you both didn’t talk to each other. You looked at Trey with the best neutral expression you could muster. “Can I help you?”

“Riddle is coming.” “Pardon?” “Riddle has been accepted into Night Raven, he’s coming next year.” You shut your eyes pensively. “I see.” “Y’know… maybe you both can… Make up…?” You shot a glare at Trey. I’m not taking advice from someone as two-faced as you— an asskisser, you wanted to say. “I’d rather not.” You simply said, making your way to your room. “Goodbye Trey, do not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” You warned, entering your room just to lay back on bed and stare at the ceiling with a newfound dread.

The next year with Riddle:

You stood as the housewarden representative of your dorm, watching as freshmen emerge from their coffins to get sorted. Then you saw him, Riddle. The red haired freshmen walked down the carpet to get sorted when he made eye contact with you, eyes widening for a brief moment before narrowing into a glare, not recognizing you at first with your dyed hair. He stood in front of the mirror, and though you knew it was unlikely, you still hoped that somehow, he would not end up sorted into your dorm.

“Heartslabyul.” The mirror spoke, and like that, everything started to crumble.

Guiding the freshmen to the dorms you stopped them in front of the dorm entrance. It was the dormleaders responsibility to assign everyone a card. “You will be a fine spade,” You said to one before allowing them in. “And you a diamond.” You waved the next person past you. “And you…” You paused when Riddle stood in front of you, before clearing your throat. “A heart would be most suited.”

The welcoming party went fine. You kept it traditional and laid back to not intimidate any of the new members, allowing everyone to socialize. As you engaged in the festivities and croquet, you noticed Riddle and Trey socializing, your brother looking sternly at Trey, before glancing over at you. You had a suspicion that even after all of these years, Riddle still needed to be superior to everyone. Your position as leader would not last long.

***

You had finalized the papers and packed your things. You were moving in the dorm you should have been a part of from the start: Savanaclaw. Azul cried crocodile tears that you didn’t join him, but you know that though you would have loved to be friends with your boss, he was a ticking time bomb of greed. Being under his control at all times was dangerous. Leona on the other hand, ultimately didn’t care about who joined so long as they could sort out their own shit. He was a safer, more minor and reasonable timebomb.

After packing, you went into the rose garden, noticing you were being followed in the distance. When you got to the center of it, where your favorite place in the whole school was, you turned around. It was Riddle and Trey. Tsk, what a surprise.

“I know you were ignoring me.” “Was I, dear brother? My apologies, it was never my intention.” Riddle would have nearly turned red if it wasn't for Trey putting a hand on his shoulder. How pathetic. He was just like his mother.

“I am here to tell you that I intend to duel you for the position of dorm leader.” “Okay, here.” You take off the crown on your head and offer it out to him, watching as your little brother stares at it a mix of baffled and offended. “Is this a joke? Or are you really that lazy and weak-willed?” Riddle demanded, “I refuse to just accept the crown, you need to put in the effort as a leader should!”

“I don't see why, I’m transferring dorms.” Trey raised his brows, “To where?” “Octavinelle,” you lied, not wanting to risk them harassing you in your new dorm. “Anyways, here you go, Housewarden Riddle. I’m sure you and Trey here would be wonderful leaders.”

“I refuse! Put in some effort for once in your life, Yuu!” Riddle scolded you in that damn tone mother always used on you.

You just laughed. “You do not deserve my effort, firstly. Secondly, are you being intentionally dense or have you forgotten what I said to you— I want you to stay out of my life. I do not want contact with any of you anymore. I'm done! I'm sorry it ended this way. I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I hear nothing about it, truly, I do.”

You throw the crown onto the ground as you take a deep breath. “Don’t visit my new dorm. Do not look for me at all. I am tired of you always making me feel bad about myself and having to be superior to me. The years I spent away from all of you, were the happiest I ever had.” You glared, tears in your eyes as you look for any trace of what remained of the brother you once knew, only to be met with disgust, he huffs then speaks.

“Why would I ever visit or look for you? We are not family anymore if I recall, and we were never family to begin with. It’s ridiculous of you to even think I would want to be related to someone like you in the slightest.” Riddle stated. “You weren't my sibling. You never were, and never will be.” His glare made you chuckle cynically.

“Is that so? Well then, I’m glad that's the case…” You take a few steps closer to him, towering over Riddle height wise. It's impressive how much someone could grow when they weren't stressed all the time and had some proper food. You lowered your voice. “I cannot believe I wasted my entire life protecting you. The amount of abuse I have taken in your stead, all for nothing. You, you're just like her.” You sneer, pushing past Riddle before pausing. “I used to have a brother once you know? He had the kindest smile and the wildest imagination. Whenever we played pretend together we would imagine that we could both take over the world as brothers in arms. I wonder what happened to him.

You take another step forward as Trey looks away from you. “And you.” You sound absolutely feral by now. “I would have expected you of all people to not accept roles that you don’t want to be in,” You leaned in closer. “You damned two-faced son of a bitch. You allowed this to happen to him.” You didn't even look back at Trey as you made your way out of the maze, back to your room to change clothes, pack your bags and go.

***

Since the first week that Riddle took charge, you have heard nothing but horror stories. He was as tyrannical as you imagined him to be. Whatever, it wasn't your problem anymore, the others will get fed up and deal with him eventually, and maybe then he will finally learn. Besides, Trey seems to have no issues anyways.

Life in Savanaclaw was bliss, you fit in a bit too perfectly, not afraid to rough up others if it came to it. You shared a room with your closest friend, Ruggie. It surprised the both of you with how close you came, actually. Coming from a poor background, you both shared tips for saving money and DIY, along with helping each other do some sleazy things to get by.

You both helped each other get jobs, and you even helped Ruggie pay for stuff with no strings attached since you were more well off. You lended each other's stuff all the time. You even help him grab discounted stuff in bulk for him to take back to his village. You helped to tutor each other in subjects you both struggled with and would even allow him to copy your homework. You both understood each other. Finally, someone gets you!

You rarely see Riddle. The only time you ever do is during test postings. You go up to check your score, and as usual, it is in the top spot. Satisfied, you shrug and turn around, and go to walk off, when you see your brother in the crowd. Riddle's eyes look at the top spot in a mix of disbelief and jealousy, absolutely miffed on how he wasn't on top. You looked up to see where the Riddle's test was, just to see it directly below yours, only one extra credit point behind. You don't think much of it. You leave.

Every test, you would go and glance at the wall, just to make sure your grades were fine, and everytime you notice how Riddle looks absolutely frustrated. You honestly aren't doing it to try and get back at him at all, in fact you wouldn't care if Riddle beat you, as long as you were on the wall you were above average. Eventually, Riddle does beat you on one test— Algebraic Magic Notation, something you never really cared for.

You saw yourself in second place, noticing in the corner of your eye how Riddle seems to stare at you for your reaction, before you just shrug as you walk off, feeling a glare in the back of your head as you do so. You had lunch with Ruggie today.

Overblot:

You have heard about that new magicless student around. Enma Yuuken, his name was. Apparently he caused a lot of commotion at the entrance ceremony and is a dorm leader and stuff now, cool, good for him. You never expected him and his Heartslabyul friends to seek you out however.

You were exiting Mostro Lounge after some accounting and contract checking Azul had you do for his next big plan. As you walked through the dorm on your way out, you noticed a certain quad behind you. “… Can I help you?” You turned around and asked, looking at the students. There was a spade and heart with a collar from your brother around his neck, along with a tall, broad student behind them, monster on his shoulder.

“Hey are you Yuu? Chenya said we could find you here.” The spade asked respectfully. “Chenya huh…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?” You asked curtly, staring at your newly dyed hair in the windows of the lounge. “Is it true Riddle’s your brother?” The heart asked desperately and sighed. “Not anymore. He’s dead to me. Is that all you need?” You narrowed your eyes.

“O-oh! Uh…” Deuce stuttered. “That doesn’t matter, can you tell us why the hell he's like this?” “Can I go back to my dorm?” “Is this not your dorm…?” Yuuken asks. You just blink at them. “Everyone we asked about said your from Octavinelle.” Grim muttered, you gripped your Savanaclaw ribbon in your fist to hide it.

"Firstly, I am a liar and you should never live in a place that your employer has control of, it will always result in a power imbalance, and believe me you do not want someone like Azul to have leverage over you. Secondly I don't share where I live because of people like you trying to ask me about Riddle."

You stare over at them watching as they all stare at each other with a tinge of guilt. You huff, "Fine, if you have questions, follow me. It's not safe to answer them here. There are eyes everywhere."

***

You look around outside of the dorm as you lead the group down the hall before stopping. “Okay what do you need to know?” “So your brother,” the heart starts. “How the fuck did he end up the way he is?” At that you let out a short laugh. “Oh, is that what this is about?” “Yeah sort of!” The heart sputters. “Look, we're trying to get him to stop being… like that… and we need to learn about him first!”

“I’m afraid you’ve been led on a wild goose chase. I haven’t had contact with him in years.” “Eh?!” The group booms. “Yeah, sorry about that, he told me I was never his sibling and that I never would be. If you really want to know why he’s like that, you should ask Trey.” “Trey?” Grim asks.

You nod. “They grew up together too, and he was around him for much longer since I left. Good luck overthrowing my brother though, if you need anything else let me know, though we haven’t talked to each other in a while, I can read him like a book.”

***

You didn't expect the quad to show up again the next day, this time at lunch where you sat. “What is it now?” You ask curiously as the heart— Ace, you learned, sits across from you pouting with his collar still on. “We’re challenging Riddle to the seat of housewarden!” “Oh?” Yuuken looks at you seriously and nods. “We need you to tell us everything about him."

You chuckle sadly. “Even if I did, you all stand no match. We were both forced to study magic before we could even walk, and you both have barely learned how to change colors of objects using magic. I’m sorry, but you cannot win.” Grim whines and Deuce sighs, “What, you saying we're weak?” “I am saying you are inexperienced. Do any of you even know how to cast a warding spell?”

The card soldiers went silent. “You know…” Yuuken starts. “Didn’t you fight Riddle since you were the housewarden before him? What did he do?” “I didn't. I gave it to him and left the dorm.” “You what?! You willingly handed over the dorm to him?!” Ace gawked. “I’m sorry, but it is not my job to save him from himself. Even if I won, he would just keep bothering me over and over. I ran away to get away from the person who defended the person that hit me, forgive me for not wanting to put up with him again.”

At that the table quieted. “So uh… what's your magic like… or your unique one at least…” Deuce asks. “Wouldn’t you like to know? All you know is that it tends to break the rules of everything around me when used— Ironically, with it, Riddle's spells wouldn’t even work with how by the book all his are.” “Breaks the rules..?” Deuce echoes. “Can’t tell you anything else, sorry.”

“Wait! What if we brought you with us as backup?” “It would be an invalid duel, I’m not from the dorm anymore.’ “What if you support us in the shadows or something.” “That's cheating!” Yuuken scolds. “Exactly.”

The cards sigh and you frown. “Look, I cannot help you with that from here, however, on the day of the duel I will accompany you. I'll hide in the crowd and step in if he takes it too far, since he tends to.”

He took it way too far as you stood before your brother, filled to the brim with blot. You sigh as you stand behind the freshmen you came to support, no longer hiding. “Come on Riddle. It doesn’t have to be like this.” “SILENCE! I am… I AM RIGHT! I AM STRONGER! You know NOTHING! You ran away! What would you know?!” “We aren't getting to them. Freshmen, get out of here, this is between us.”

“Nuh uh! I’m kicking his ass too!” Ace says. “Right!” Deuce replies. Yuuken pulls out his kendo stick, ready to fight despite being magicless. “Fine then, just follow my lead.”

***

You watched as the blot left your brother in front of you. The tyrant, no longer fighting. Then, and only then, did you collapse from your injuries. Even when you gave those freshies direct orders they put themselves in harm's way, meaning you had to tank the hit for them. “Yuu!” Deuce called out. “I'm fine! I'm just… tired…” You felt blood drip down your face as you laid down.

Upon snapping out of the blot, you heard sobbing, the same sad sobs that happened on that fateful day. “I'm sorry!” Riddle shouts, reminding you of how mother would making him apologize over and over. Your head pounds, and the next thing you feel is someone sitting next to you, putting a hand near your face to check your breath before resting it on your cheek, and you recognize it.

They were larger than they were before, but the softness was unmistakably Riddle’s. His hand held you face the same he did when you were both kids and you would lift him up in the air, pretending that he was flying. You smile and open your eyes, and are met with his face looking over you.

He was sobbing, face flushed and hair unkempt for the first time in his life, and yet the look in his eyes was unmistakably the Riddle you once knew. You smile up on him and reach up to cup his face as well. “I think… I finally found my little brother I used to play with after all these years…” You chuckle before sucking in a breath at the pain, making Riddle panic and pull you onto his lap. “Yuu!”

Riddle holds you close to him, pulling you in a hug. “I’m sorry! You were right! You were right… I treated you badly… Will you ever forgive me….?” He sobbed into your neck and you reached up to hug him. “I wasn't mad at you, Riddle. I never was. I was scared… Scared I lost you to her.”

You were critically injured, in unbearable pain, and yet here you were still protecting and comforting your little brother like you always swore you would. “I love you Riddle, always did you know that right?” Riddle choked back a sob and nodded. “Good, I’m glad you know.” “Don’t leave me… Please dont leave me alone again! Not after I just got you back…” “Hey… don't worry about me okay? I'll be fine, I’ve experienced worse. I'll bounce back in no time, and we can have tea parties again, Just like when we were kids,” you choke, and Crowley comes in just in time to pick you up as you struggle to breathe, making Riddle get up and crowd you.

“They’re going to be alright, right?” Riddle sobs. “Riddle,” you mumble. “Takes a lot more than that to kill me.” You beam confidently, despite the various injuries on your body. “Right now your dorm needs you. Show them what a great leader you can be, kay? I always thought you played a better queen than I did…” You slur. “I know that Heartslabyul will shine better with than it did with me.”

“Come on Yuu, let's get you to a doctor.” Crowley says, flying off with you in his arms. Riddle watched as he shook, and a smile grew on his face.

Resolution:

You lay on one of the beds in the nurse's office. Pixies come to cater to your needs every once and a while as you rest to the sound of the heart monitor beeping. You turn your head to the side to look in a mirror and your hair is an unruly mess that matches you, this time however, it is the same ruby red that matches your brother after you used a coloring spell on it. And for once, you do not hate your resemblance to him.

A knock is heard from the door, and you watch the door open in the mirror. Riddle comes in, a small tray in hand. The minute he sees you, he carefully approaches, placing the tray on the bedside table. You prop your bed up to see him better, smiling gently to try and ease his guilty and nervous expression.

“It’s nice to see you.” “I um… brought you something.” Riddle mumbles, opening the box he brought in. Unveiling it, you can see it is a tiny strawberry tart, the ones you would always try to sneak to him when you lived at home. The edges were burnt and it was slightly misshapen, but it was perfect. “I um.. made it, by myself.” He holds his hands in front of himself and looks down.

You reach over for it just to cause Riddle to fuss over you. “Don't move, you're hurt, I’ll feed you.” The housewarden holds the box in his arm, pulling out the spoon he brought with him and carefully scooping up a piece shakily before holding it to your mouth. “Heh, I can get used to this.” “You still have the energy to tease me on your deathbed? You really are… something…” Riddle pouts, making you snicker internally as you take the bite, savoring the tart in all its glory. It’s probably the best thing you’ve ever had.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry… The tart is really good though…” “We are planning to have an Unbirthday party to make up for the last one… It was supposed to be today, but I put it off so you can come when you're better… If you want to.” “Will it be like the tea parties we imagined as kids? Where were together and can play and eat whatever we want?” “Yes, yes it will be just like the tea parties we had as kids.”

You tear up a bit. “I would love to.”

[kagamesayu]

I loved ur bimbo x shidou- you wrote him so well omg- pls make more with shidou <33

shidou ryusei x bimbo!reader pt 2

c/w . implied female reader, smut MDNI, fluff, shidou ryusei is INSANELY CRAZY for you wc: 1.2 k a/n . omai gah my first ask 🥹 TY I WAS SO WORRIED I WROTE HIM TOO TAME!! blonde demon fuck 🥰 ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! reblogs and comments appreciated ✧*.

pt 1, pt 2

imagine...

shidou who loves putting a hand on your thigh when he drives. he has the music turned down - probably something from 'hide' - while he rests his cheek against his fist, staring and listening to you rambling about a cute puppy you saw.

the hand on your thigh squeezes and massages the flesh between his fingers absentmindedly. though he's looking at you, he probably isn't thinking about too much (when does he ever though) other than the fact that you look so fucking cute.

your shiny lipgloss, the animated way your hands move when you talk about how the puppy just kept hopping about and licking your 'fingies', how your eyes light up and shine.

he taps his pointer finger against your inner thigh twice, getting your attention, before leaning close, lips puckered. "got me all winded up doll~ ya look soo cute right now~!" and you pause, face turning hot before you giggle and peck his lips.

i hc him to have insane road rage, and you can tell by how angry he is by how he squeezes your thigh.

if it's just a long line, he'll squeeze your knee slightly, pinching and playing with the flesh while waiting for the traffic to move.

however if anyone does anything else like cutting in front of you or stopping suddenly, he immediately becomes to furious. his hand grips onto your thigh harder, digging his fingers into your flesh in an almost bruising grip. he does it both to relieve his rage and to keep you from flying too far away - even with the seat belt keeping you safe.

"these fuckers don't know how to fuckin' drive? almost made my baby fly out the damn car!"

he has a crazy look on his face. this is the only circumstance his hand leaves your thigh. it flies up to the horn, blaring it and staring right at the car that dared to put your safety at risk.

and the poor people who cut in front of you are non the wiser of the demon they angered. shidou will purposely drive to be beside the car and look inside with his piercing eyes.

safe to say the offenders will zoom tf away.

and when they do shidou will look straight at you wide smile on his face. 'praise me!' and what else can you do when your man protects you as well as he has?

anyone driving past your car would think there was a dog inside because of all the howling

shidou who clings and whines when he had to leave your side. every so often he has to go overseas for a match, and you almost always forget to request for day offs.

"my dumb little doll, makin' me suffer for their actions..." he always sulks, pouty as he snuggles deep into your neck.

he hates not having you be his side, hates not being to hold you, touch you, smell you, kiss you. he'd rather die than not be able to be with you.

for the days leading up to his departure he clings onto you. early morning runs are delayed cause he stays in bed longer, either with his cock buried deep inside, having you cockwarm him or with his head between your legs enjoying what little time he had left.

and when the time finally comes for him to leave has a few memorabilia to keep him going through the days. pictures of you, promises of calls every morning, afternoon and night, your undies, the usual!

might explore this more it sounds kinda fun ngl

shidou who loves your trampstamp. you'd gotten it while he was out of the country and took a picture of it to cheer him up.

you'd heard some of your girl friends got it and it made their significant others happy, so you did it too!

what could go wrong?

apparently a lot. the moment shidou saw the picture - accompanied by the text "got a new tattoo! isn't it cute?" - he went feral.

the picture of you in front of the mirror with your shirt off, undies pulled low to show him the fresh ink on your skin, killed shidou ryusei.

immediately he books a flight home. he doesn't care if the match is tomorrow, his doll got him a present and he needs to have them in his arms and on his dick right now.

he texted you that he was coming back but you didn't believe him. he has a match tomorrow, there's no way he's coming home!

oh sweetheart.

and you have no one else to blame other than yourself when he shows up ay the front door, dripping in sweat and lust, demanding you show him the tattoo.

the look he has in his eye is exactly the same as when he's on the field. the same look he has when he wants to shoot a goal. when he explodes.

and there is a goal here. right in front of him.

you.

shidou who makes you swatch new lipstick on him. red, pink, purple, green, he wants you to paint the whole damn rainbow on him with your lips.

you can bet the moment you return from a makeup store - using his money too, of course - he's grabbing you and sitting you on his lap on the couch and making you bring out your haul.

and you show it to him like you're a makeup youtube creator, hand behind the product and reading out the names to shidou. and he nods along, smirking and watching your child-like excitement over your newest palette.

"oh my god ryu!! look!!", you pull out a cute pink eyeshadow palette.

"ooh, that looks cute doll."

"it's the trixie mattel 'girl talk' palette!! i just saw it and had to buy it! look this hot pink is to die for!!"

and he thinks your rambling is cute, he really does, but all he's really excited to see is the new lipstick or lipgloss you bought.

"and look at how pink this lipstick is baby!"

you're too oblivious to realise how much he perked up, hands gripping your sides tighter, expectant look on his face as he watches your hands take out the products.

"i got this pink, and this one which is a little darker, and this one that's sparkly~!"

"well? what're you waitin' for then pretty?"

and that's your cue to start unboxing them, putting them on your lips and marking up your man.

30 minutes is all it takes for you to finish trying out all your new lipsticks. but you're not even focused on swatching it anymore.

now he's looming over your panting form, strings of drool connecting your lips. your eyes are teary, mascara dripping down your face as your hands grip onto his blond hair.

his face is littered with pink kisses. on his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his chin, his neck, everything all the way down to his naked chest is covered in kisses.

he's gorgeous. that's all your dumb little brain can think when he kisses you like this.

she's perfect. is all shidou ryusei can think when you kiss him like this.

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[aislynn-wiley1999]

An Easy Decision

Sebastian x Reader One Shot

A year after graduating, Sebastian visits you unannounced and old memories stir.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, making out, oral sex, PinV sex, explicit sexual content, strong language, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 4.4k

Read it on AO3 here! Check out my other stuff as well :)

There was no way to describe how you had been feeling for the past day, month, year. As a fresh adult in the world, life had been increasingly monotonous and usual. Nothing out of place, nothing exciting, nothing frightening, just plain. Hogwarts had been a dream the last three years, but now that you had to work you felt as though the magic had been sucked from your life.

It wasn’t just because of working and surviving, but because your social interactions had dwindled. Work was boring, but it was your own fault. You didn’t know what you wanted to do with your life yet, so you told yourself you had one single year to work in a shop and figure it out. That was in June, and now it is April. Time was running out, and you were scared shitless. Keeping in touch with friends from school proved harder than intended, and while you meant to send letters it became more and more difficult to find ambition. Which was particularly embarrassing, since Slytherin’s were meant to have a never ending supply of ambition.

It was a quiet Friday in the small garment shop, and you were looking forward to the weekend. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than perhaps how quiet the shop was. Sitting behind the counter, reading a book lazily, you glance up when the bell on the door rings.

“Welcome in-” you stop, staring aghast at the person who has walked in, before smiling at them and letting out a small laugh. Sebastian Sallow stood in the doorway, grinning sheepishly at you and your surprised expression. He was one of the few friends you tried to keep in contact with, despite being busy and unmotivated.

“What are you doing here?” you shout out as you walk out from behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything right away as you wrap your arms around him, engulfing him in a hug. You feel him press his head into the crook of your neck, and you squeeze him tightly.

“Figured I would take a little birthday trip down here, visit old friends. Wanted it to be a surprise,” he says, pulling away with a smile. “And I have come to kidnap you on the promise of drinks on me.”

“Oh gods, yes, happy birthday!” you tell him, trying to cover up the fact that you had forgotten. But yes, today was 17 April, and his birthday had only been a few days earlier. “How does it feel to be nineteen?”

He laughs, giving a shrug. “Underwhelming, if anything. Do you have much longer here for the day?” he asks, clearly eager to get out and drink. You shake your head, smiling. “Give me fifteen minutes to count the money and lock up. It’s almost five anyways, and then we can go!”

You busy yourself closing the small shop, glancing up at him with a smile every so often. It was such a delight to see him, after almost a year of being apart. He looked good, tall and confident, and you could tell that he had grown into himself in the last year. There were this lingering feelings for him, of course, when you received a letter or thought of him on occasion, but right now it was just good to see your friend.

With a turn and lock, you closed the shop and the two of you ventured out onto the high street in search of drinks. “I’m thinking that maybe we head somewhere small,” Sebastian said, leading the two of you down the street. You nod, eager to sit and talk and drink. He looked radiant almost, the glow of the low sun illuminating him and his smiling face, his freckles practically glowing. It felt like nothing had changed since the last time you were together, and you loved that.

There was a small corner pub that seemed to beckon him, and he quickly pulled you inside. It was a Friday, so there were few spaces to choose from in the pub, but the two of you found a tiny booth situated in one corner. He left you there to buy the first round of drinks, quickly returning with two pints. Scooting over the accommodate him, the two of you pressed against each other in the tiny space as you drank your drinks.

“Please let me buy the next round, since it’s your bloody birthday,” you say, laughing as he shakes his head no. “This is my treat, for showing up unannounced,” he says, taking a gulp of his drink. “How have things been for you? We really must try to write to each other more.”

It was true, the two of you maybe exchanged letters once a month now. Life had gotten busy, for you and probably for him as well. “I’m mainly just working, nothing exciting,” you say, and then giggle. “This is embarrassing, but I can’t remember the last time I was in a pub on a Friday night.”

“Do you not like going out anymore? We could have gone and just gotten dinner, or even just taken a walk,” he says, his tone concerned. You find these suggestions sweet, a reminder of how caring he can be when he wants to be.

“No, I just don’t have much of a social life, and it would be pretty depressing if I came to the pub alone on a weekend,” you say, taking a swig of your drink. The golden liquid blooms in your chest, creating a warmth inside you. Sebastian nods in an understanding way. “That you be pathetic,” he says, grinning.

You laugh, and he laughs, and it's as though you have not been apart for the past nine months. “What have you been up to?” you ask him, trying to give him a chance to speak. He shrugs. “Same as you, just working. I went to see Ominis yesterday, poor bastard was also not expecting me and is sick as a dog.”

That statement seemed to answer your lingering question about why it was just the two of you out tonight. Unless he planned on more people meeting you there later. “Is anyone else coming tonight?” you ask, trying to get an answer. 

Sebastian’s smile wavers a bit, but only for a second. “Did you want other people to come?” he asks, almost trying to get an answer for himself. You shake your head, and he smiles. The two of you continue to drink your drinks, and soon you are staring at an empty cup.

Trying to fish out your wallet, he beats you to it and is at the bar in a flash. “Sebastian, I’m serious. Let me buy you at least one drink tonight as a celebration,” you protest as he comes back with full glasses. He only shakes his head, setting the drinks down.

“You can buy me one when I’m drunk,” he says, grinning. You don’t say anything, just sipping your drink while trying to hide your smile. You watch him out of the corner of my eye, how his throat moves when he swallows the alcohol. Perhaps it's the liquid running through your veins, but he looks better than he did in school. There was this new air of confidence surrounding you, and you wanted to say something bold but couldn’t bring yourself to it. Instead, you gulp the amber liquid in the hopes that the courage comes along the way.

“Woah! I didn’t actually mean that, neither of us need to get drunk before you buy me a drink,” Sebastian says, gently guiding the glass away from you. Giving him a funny look, you pull it back. “You don’t want to get drunk?”

He shakes his head, not smiling as big as he once was. “I don’t, not tonight, not with you.”

That makes you pause mid sip, thinking of all the ways his words could be interpreted. Looking at him, you furrow your eyebrows and hope he elaborates. Sebastian eyes you, looking shy and bashful in an instance. “Do you remember when we went to the Yule ball together last December?” he asks you.

You nod. Of course you did, even though the night hadn’t gone as planned. You had hoped that that was the night everything came full circle, that the two of you would get together. But instead, Sebastian drank too much and ended up throwing up in the bushes outside with you to witness it all. It was something the two of you laughed about later on, but you always felt disappointed.

“I wish I had kissed you that night,” he says, catching you completely off guard. “I regret drinking so much, but I was so nervous and wanted to feel confident, and I screwed it up. I screwed it up with you.”

Your mouth is half hanging open, not sure what to say. You are trying your best to process what he has just told you, just confessed, but you can’t for a minute. He waits expectantly for you to collect your thoughts and respond.

“So… you don’t want to get drunk tonight because… you want to kiss me?” you ask, feeling slow and out of touch. But when Sebastian laughs, it forces you to smile. “What?” you ask him, still smiling.

“I feel like wanting to kiss you is such an entry level requirement for everything else I want from you,” he says, his cheeks immediately turning red after saying that. Your’s go red as well, at what he could be implying. “But, I- why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, unsure of what else to say. 

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I would have rather stayed your friend than, I don’t know, have scared you off with a big confession,” he said quickly. You shake your head, trying to convince him otherwise. “I don’t think you understand how much I would have reciprocated that confession,” you say, smiling.

“And now?” he says, looking at you with a sense of uncertainty. The smile on your face becomes a shy one as you look at him, unsure of how to say everything that you want to say. “I think that I look at you now, and all those feelings seem to have stayed with me. Like nothing has changed even though it’s been nine months since we’ve had a conversation,” you say, speaking truthfully. 

You don’t even get to look at the smile on his face for long before Sebastian leans in and presses a quick, soft kiss to your lips, pulling back after only a second. You instinctively lean forward as he pulls away, trying to catch his lips again, but he puts a hand on your arm. “Not here, in a pub surrounded by other people,” he says, his voice a whisper against your ear. You nod, understanding and agreeing. “Let’s go somewhere else, then.”

You nod. “I live with other people, though, and I have like, no privacy,” you tell him. He nods, and then continues. “I’m staying in an inn nearby,” he says, before shaking his head. You furrow your eyebrows in question, and he clarifies. “That just doesn’t seem right, me taking you to an inn. Not now, not after all this time.”

You shake your head at his words, not even having had that thought. “I just want to be near you, to make up for lost time.” The words out of your mouth surprise you with how bold they are, but you don’t back down. 

“Let’s just walk around until the morning,” he says, grinning. You smile but you shake your head again. “Take me back with you. I promise, I don’t care where we are.”

He nods before standing up, offering you a hand. You let him pull you out of the booth, and hand in hand you leave the half empty pints on the table.

—-------------------------------------------

The inn room is small, with nothing but a bed, a lamp, and a chest of drawers. There is a small bathroom to the left, and you spot Sebastian’s bags on one side of the floor. The two of you stood a few feet away from each other, unsure of where to go from here. As comfortable as you were with each other, it was clear that neither of you wanted to jump into bed with each other right away.

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you back here,” Sebastian said suddenly, looking embarrassed. You shake your head. “I just don’t know where to start, and I want to do this, I do, but I can’t fathom where to begin,” you say flustered. 

“Where to start? You don’t have to start or begin anything. I didn’t bring you here so you could perform or do anything for me. We can talk, or just stand here, or do whatever you want. Don’t feel pressured, and believe me, I’m probably more nervous being with you than you can imagine,” he says, running a hand through his hair with a smile. 

His words bring a sense of ease to you, maybe just what you needed to hear at that moment. You step forward until you’re right in front of him, letting him take one of your hands. Gingerly, you stand on your tiptoes and brush a kiss to his lips, waiting for him to move into it. For a moment, the two of you stand nose to nose, and then he closes the gap between you. 

The first few seconds are gentle and soft, testing the waters out for both of you. But soon, the movements of your lips become uncoordinated, desperate and fast. His hands find their way to your waist and you tangle yours in his hair. The two of you are standing, practically pulling the other person into them, trying to get as close as possible. 

“Can we- go to- the bed?” you breathe out in between kisses. He nods, and you climb onto the bed, pulling his weight on top of you. You let him cradle you as he presses slow kisses to your lips, his pace changing. He stops and looks at you, staring up from underneath him. “We don’t have to do anything else,” he says, looking at your face for hesitation.

“I want to,” you tell him. “I really, really do.”

Sebastian has a look on his face that betrays both nerves and excitement. It’s the same look that he had when he asked you to the Yule ball, over a year ago. He nods again, before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. He pulls back again, looking at you, before attaching his lips to your neck. You sigh, and the soft noise seems to ignite something in his brain.

He rolls both of you over, you being on top of his body now. In one swift move, he maneuvers the two of you so that you are sitting up and straddling him on the bed. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before practically smashing your lips together. There is a sense of urgency as you move, hands exploring each other as lips and tongues move together. 

You move your mouth, peppering light kisses along Sebastian’s jaw and down to his neck and you rock your body against him. He groans underneath you, your name leaving his lips as he rakes his hands over your back and down to your ass. Gripping you, he pulls you closer to him. Becoming impatient, you tug on his shirt in the hopes that he takes it off. The two of you break away for a moment, each tearing your own shirt over your body in a quick attempt to undress.

His hands come behind you, wanting to rid you of your bra, but he pauses. “Is this okay?” he asks, with a tone filled with concern. You press a light kiss to his lips, urging him to continue. “I promise I’ll say something if it’s not,” you breathe out, desperate for him to touch you. He seems to understand your urgency, and your bra is on the floor in the next second.

Sebastian stares at your chest, a look of marvel plastered on his face. In an instant, his lips are attached to your nipple, resulting in soft moans from you as you clutch his hair. “I need you, Sebastian,” you whisper as he sucks on the other nipple. He groans in response, pulling himself away from your chest. 

You attempt to reach a hand in between the two of you to touch him through his pants, but he stands with you wrapped around him, turning so that he can lay you gently on the bed. He touches your skirt with a light hand, looking at you for any hesitation. You don’t speak, but instead start to gather your skirt so that it bunches around your waist. You look at him, your eyes doing their best to say fuck me, please. Without a single word, you shimmy out of your underwear and invite him in.

Sebastian practically buries his face in you. His mouth and tongue make these obscene sounds as he licks, sucks, kisses, and laps at every part of your sex. The noises mix with the moaning and babbling that emerge from your mouth, and you’re saying these things that you never thought you would say. Things like more, oh fuck, Sebastian, I need more.

His hands are gripping onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass, pulling you closer to him. It almost feels as though he wants to swallow you whole as he works you with his mouth and lips. One of his hands disappears, and then you feel his fingers working their way inside of you. Gasping, you clench around the two fingers he has in you, feeling so full already from him. He moans into you, vibrating your lower half as he starts to pump his fingers in you. 

It’s too much, all too much. The way he is absolutely worshiping your body is going to cause you to explode. He’s curled his digits inside of you, his lips sucking like he can’t get enough, and you can feel your legs start to tremble. His name leaves your lips, and he does something extraordinary with his tongue that causes everything to shatter for you.

There’s no way to describe how good this all feels, except that perhaps you have touched the stars. He is still moving his fingers, his tongue, his lips, as you writhe and gasp on the bed. Once it becomes too much, you start to scoot away from his face, but he follows you with his hand.

“Oh god, it’s too much, please Sebastian,” you plead, shaking as he still pumps his hand into you. He’s watching you, his eyes dark and full of lust, as you try to move away from his hand. After a moment, he moves his hand and pulls his fingers out of you. You watched him, embarrassed, as he popped his fingers in his mouth. “Don’t do that,” you say, this shy feeling overcoming you.

“Why not? I just had my face buried in you,” he says, matter of factly, before grinning wickedly at you. You look down to where he is straining in his pants, and the desire to touch him overcomes you again. Sitting up slightly, you reach your hand out to the buttons on his pants.

He moves away from you, instead bending down to kiss you. “Please, let me touch you,” you say, reaching again for him. “I don’t want this to be over too quickly,” he says, cheeks running red. 

There’s a pause as you consider what he’s saying, and you look at him with a question written on your face. “I want to fuck you properly, and I know I won’t last if you use your mouth on me,” he explains, now really looking embarrassed. 

“Then do it,” you say, a sense of post-orgasm confidence running through you. You’re absolutely aching for him, and with your skirt hiked up and your flesh exposed you want him on you at this moment. There is a desire coursing through you, that only he can satisfy. “Please, Sebastian.”

Without another word, he climbs onto you and devours your lips in a needy kiss. Your bare core presses against his clothed erection, the sensation causing you to moan into his mouth. He immediately starts to grind himself against you, the two of you acting almost like crazed animals as you try to create a sense of friction. 

“Take them off,” you say, fiddling with his pants again. This time, he stands and obliges. You watch as he removes his trousers and underclothes, and stare as he bares himself for you. Now there was no sense of hiding from him, no sense of unknown. You clenched around nothing as you watched him give his length two quick pumps, the thought of what to come already driving you insane. 

“You know I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he says softly, climbing onto you again. “How I would take you, how you would look, what I would do to you. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect.” His head dips, kissing the outside of your breast. “And I want this to be perfect for you.”

“Sebastian,” you say, coming out more as a gasp than actual words. “Please, I think I might go insane if you don’t touch me.”

There is a hint of a smirk that comes over his face, and you feel him line your bodies up. His head bends down again to kiss you, whispering sweet things as he pulls his lips away. Gently, he slides himself into you, coaxing and teasing so that it causes you to feel every little bit. You both gasp in unison when he is fully inside you, a feeling of fullness and closeness like you had never experienced before. 

He doesn’t move for a moment. “I want to hear everything that comes out of your mouth,” he says, commanding you. You nod, the feeling of him already leaving you dazed and delicious. Slowly, he pulls out. And then he pushes in again, slow and deep, and you can’t hold back.

There are these babbling words and sounds coming out of your mouth as he fucks you, rotating and snapping his hips. Words like fuck, oh god, please Sebastian, don’t stop, feels so good. Things you never imagined you would say, at least not before today. But now it feels natural as they tumble out, mixed with gasps and moans. You intentionally tighten slightly around him, and it brings noises and words from him. He’s calling you perfect, so good, an angel, beautiful, and everything else you could want to hear from him. 

His thrusts are rhythmic, deep and precise. There is no great urgency between you, instead just relishing in the movements of each other. You bring your legs around his back, hands clawing at his back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he says, his eyes shut as he moves in and out of you. All you can do is moan in response, no real thoughts left in your head.

But then you feel something else. Sebastian has slipped a sneaky hand in between you, pressing languid circles into your clit as he moves. He has started to get sloppy, his hips snapping with less of a rhythm, and you know he wants you to finish first. The combination of his hand and his length pumping in you cause you to arch away from the bed, his name coming out in gasps as you feel everything. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of everything, and with one firm press into your clit you fall over.

Everything is on fire on your body, you can’t help it. You grab onto one of your breasts, needing to feel something more as you come. He is still saying things to you, things that only seem to drag out the feeling. “You’re doing so well, oh my god, you look so perfect,” he breathes out, his movement messy. You moan his name loudly one last time, and that’s it for him. He groans, thrusting three more times before collapsing on top of you. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him as he buries his head into your hair. He lazily kisses your neck and jaw, as if he wants to taste your skin. Your fingers stroke his hair lightly, both of you breathing loudly and not really moving.

“Was that okay?” he asks suddenly, lifting his head up a bit to look at you. 

“I feel like ‘okay’ is a massive understatement,” you tell him, a smile emerging on your face. He matches your smile, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Why did you not want to bring me here originally?” you ask, causing him to drop his smile. Sebastian thinks for a moment, looking almost embarrassed.

“I just- I felt like you deserved more than the bed at an inn. And I have to go back home in two days, and it just didn’t feel right for you. For how I feel about you, the way I wanted you. But I’m glad you talked me down from thinking that,” he says, his smile returning. You nod, understanding what he means. “And how do you feel about me, or how do you want me?” you ask, almost shyly. 

But Sebastian grins wider, and you feel foolish for asking. “I like you. It’s been hard, these last few months without you. And I think that we could be great together, that you should move closer to me or I should move closer to you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You nod, a sense of relief flooding your mind. He lays his head back on you, and for a moment you say nothing. But then you remember something, and giggle. He lifts his head back up slightly, giving you a confused look. 

“You’re still inside me,” you say, moving slightly. His eyes widen and he slips out of you gently, pressing a small kiss to your temple as he does so. He stands up, heading to the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, he turns to look at you laid out naked on the bed. “So you’ll have me, then?” he asks you with a soft smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, it being one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made. “Of course, Sebastian.”