#i don't know how to write please help me-

[delilahsturniolo]

— 𝜗ৎ the greatest . . . m.s

in which . . . you want something more with fwb!matt, but he shuts you down, turning it into an argument, so he decides to “make it up to you” and you can’t help but give in

warnings . . . fwb!matt, smut, arguing, crying, unprotected sex, unresolved angst, use of pet names, fingering, multiple orgasms.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #6

there's something about matt that just drives you wild. maybe it's the way he looks at you with those piercing blue eyes or the way his hair falls perfectly into place. whatever it is, you can't get enough of him. but the problem is, all he wants from you is to fuck, and nothing more. a real relationship is where he draws the line. you've been friends with benefits for a while now, but lately, you've been wanting something more. you want to be able to call him yours, to have him hold you close and tell you that he loves you. but every time you bring it up, he shuts you down.

"matt, we need to talk," you say, tangled in the sheets. "about what?" he asks, pulling on his shirt and avoiding your gaze. "about us. about what we're doing here."

"we're having fun, aren't we? i mean, the sex is amazing. what more do you want?" you take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "i want more than just sex, matt. i want a relationship. i want to be with you." he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i can't give you that. i'm not the relationship type."

"why not? why can't you just give us a chance?" you plead, matt snaps back. "because i don't want to hurt you. i care about you, i do. but i'm not capable of being what you need." you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "how do you know what i need? you've never even tried."

"look, let's just drop it, okay? we're good together, let's not ruin it by trying to make it into something it's not." you shake your head, wiping away a stray tear. "i can't keep doing this, matt.." he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment you think he might actually be considering it. but then he leans in close, his breath hot on your neck, and whispers, "let me make it up to you."

and just like that, you're putty in his hands. he knows exactly how to touch you, how to make you moan and writhe beneath him. he trails kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your curves, and you know you should stop him, should tell him no, but you can't. you need him, need this. you can’t resist going back to him. you love the way he makes you feel and you will never escape that.

he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he thrusts into you, filling you completely, and you cry out, your nails digging into his back. “you feel so good," he groans, his hips slamming against yours. "so tight and wet for me."

"matt, please," you whimper, not even sure what you're asking for. "i've got you, baby. i'll take care of you." and he does. he fucks you hard and deep, hitting all the right spots, until you're a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. and when you finally cum, screaming his name, he follows right behind you, spilling himself inside you.

but you’re not done yet. matt leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, and whispers, "you want this, don't you?" you can only nod, your heart pounding in your chest. his fingers brush against your panties, already damp with your arousal. he chuckles softly, a sound that sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

his fingers deftly push your panties aside, revealing your slick folds. he runs a finger along your slit, gathering your wetness on his fingertip. he brings it to his lips, tasting you. "mmm," he hums, "you taste so sweet, can’t get enough of this pretty pussy..” then, without warning, he plunges a finger inside you. you gasp, your back arching off the sheets. he pumps his finger in and out of you, adding another when he feels you're ready. his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles around it.

your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts. you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter. "that's it," matt encourages, "cum for me again.” and you do. your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your walls clamping down on matt's fingers. he continues to pump them in and out of you, prolonging your pleasure until you're left a quivering mess on the couch. he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips once again. he sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

afterwards, he holds you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. and even though you know it's not real, that he's not really yours, you can't help but bask in the afterglow. you know you shouldn't keep doing this, shouldn't keep falling back into bed with him, all he wanted was to see you naked. but the truth is, you're addicted to him, to the way he makes you feel. and as much as you want more, you're not sure you're ready to give this up just yet.

© delilahsturniolo

💌: MAN AM I THE GREATESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

[npookie0]

HUEHHEE HELLO DEAR MOOTIEEEE I've come for the saja boys x chronically Ill reader!! Orrr a poc reader if ya want! (≡^∇^≡) lowkey self indulgent but your writing is so yummy 💔

Demonic Care

A lover boy has to take care of his chronically ill partner and cheer them up. Which Saja Boy will be the most helpful?

contains: reader with pots, very headcanony personalities for the saja boys, these are going to be drabbles </3

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Heads up, I'll say the short version of what kind of people are the saja boys to me

Romance - hopeless romantic, easily smitten with people, flirt, that man is a total fool when he's in love I fear </3

Abby - high ego, very (almost over) confident, kind of stupid but a lil sweet (and cocky) jock type of guy

Mystery - quiet, but expresses himself through body language and in music, closed off and very short social battery

Baby - cunning, cocky, chill unbothered king, childlish

Jinu - a leader by nature, silly dude (please that man made a choice when running and giggling like that...), you know that he means it when he's not doing something for his own benefit, understanding, but also a liar </3

Jinu

words [ 412 ]

The Saja Boys concert was close to wrapping up, the boys had to sing the fan favourite song, say their goodbye and leave. The atmosphere was warm, energetic. Fans were shouting, singing along, waving their light sticks and recording the stage.

You stood between the fans, in the first row, holding the railings with your hands. Your body grown tired over time, you stood for far too long, you were close to passing out. But you had to be there, had to see the concert from the stands.

You couldn't just sit on backstage and watch the boys perform in front of the whole crowd when you had the chance to watch Jinu's face in full view from where you stood now.

The concert came to an end and the Saja's manager came up to you to help you get backstage. You told them that you don't need a whole escort, but their response was "Jinu asked me to do it, I couldn't say no." You sighed and nodded in understanding.

"Hey aegiya!" Suddenly someone hugged you from behind once you were in the boys band's lounge area .

"Ugh, Jinu~! You started me." You replied and turned around, freeing yourself from your boyfriend's embrace.

"Haha sorry, sorry." He replied, scratching the back of his neck and laughing awkwardly. "Oh jeez, you look pale. You should sit down."

You couldn't protest, because soon your darling boyfriend sat you down on the sofa and told one of the other boys to go grab you some water.

"Jinu, I'm okay, I promise." You said, but he clearly wasn't buying it and maybe he was in the right this time. Your vision went black for a second and it take a bit to go back to normal.

He crossed his arms. "Mmm, no, I'm not buying that. I saw you in the crowd, you looked like you would faint in any moment." He exhaled and crouched in front of you. "Listen, I know that you want to be everything to support you, but please don't just throw yourself into a potentially dangerous situation for you."

You looked away. "Sorry Jinu, you''re right... I guess." You looked back at him. "I didn't mean to stress you more."

He chuckled and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay, just be careful, yeah?" He ruffled your hair and stood up. "Let's go home, Abby found some movie he wants to watch and you're invited too."

Romance

words [ 446 ]

The last thing you remember before fainting was Romance's panicked face when he caught you, then you lost consciousness. You didn't know how much time exactly passed between your collapsing and Romance getting you back to your apartament, but after regained consciousness saw Romance holding your hand to his forehead and murmuring to himself.

"Hey, no need to summon anything for me to wake up, stupid."

When you said these words Romance immediately looked up and practically crushed you with his body when he hugged you. "Jagiya! I'm glad that you're okay. You were out for so long." He said and before you could answer, he suddenly pulled away. "Do you need anything? Water, food, medicine?"

You looked at him a little stunned and then you started giggling, Romance titled his head, confused, but relieved that you felt well enough to laugh.

"What's so funny, jagiya?" He asked, leaning closer to you.

You took a while to answer, your laughter made it impossible. "You remind me of a puppy Romy." You giggled when you imagined him with dog ears.

"A puppy, huh? Well, maybe I'm a lovesick puppy for you, baby." He kissed you, but before you could kiss him back, he stood up, a smirk spread across his face when he saw your pout. "Ah, we can kiss later, now we need to take care of you. I was really scared when you waited so suddenly in the store."

"Boohoo, I want kisses now." You stood up from the bed very slowly, leaning on the wall in front of you when the black spots started showing in your vision.

Romance noticed it and was quick to your side, holding you by back and hand in case you fainted again. "Okay, let's go slowly. No need to rush." He said and slowly guided you to the kitchen.

You sat down on a chair in your kitchen and watch as Romance poured you water. "Drink up, you need it." He said, placing the glass in front of you.

You picked it up. "Thank you mr. specialist of human health." You said teasingly, looking at the patterns on his arm and drank the whole glass at once, you were really thirsty.

"Maybe I'm a demon, but I was a human before if you forgot." He huffed. "You're lucky I love you, you silly human."

"I think it's the other way around, but let it be your way." You stuck out your tongue at him.

"Oh, look who's feeling like a little tease after their fainted at my dance practice."

"Oh, shut up and give me more water."

He smirked proudly. "See? I told you that you'd need water."

Abby

words [ 552 ]

You were in the dance practice room, dancing to Soda Pop all alone. You knew that you shouldn't do it, not with the danger of fainting because you're straining your body. You should at least wait for Abby to wake up and watch over you. But you had to dance, this was one of your biggest passions in the past. It wasn't just a hobby, it was your career, your everything.

And now?

You could barely stand for longer than ten minutes without people fussing over you collapsing, you had to stand up slowly or you'll feel dizzy, your heart hurt from how fast it beat.

You hated this, hated this turn your life took. Hated how sad and colorless it became. But then, you heard that annoyingly catchy song one day and bumped into an extremely egoistical boys band member. You met your current boyfriend, Abby.

He was the most self confident person you've ever met, but you had to admit that in all his self love he was right. Fortunately, there was more to him than his muscles, voice and high ego. Abby proved himself to be most devoted, loving and a tiny bit stupid, boyfriend ever.

He didn't make a big fuss out of your pots, when you were feeling particularly weak he would give you piggy back rides and say "I'm jus' showing off my strength, it's not cause you feel bad or anything." And you were thankful for it.

Though he still wasn't so fond of you dancing. He tried his best not to show it so you wouldn't feel like even he sees you just for your illness.

That's why you were dancing in secret, trying to go back to normal in any way, maybe your career was over, but you could still try to do it as your hobby from time to time.

"Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah"

You froze when you heard Abby's singing right next to you. You turned you head to the side and there he was, wearing nothing but his pyjama sweatpants and slippers, he was dancing to the choreography.

"Why'd ya stop? It's not like we're doing anything bad." He said with a wink.

You paused the song and looked at him in confusion. "You won't stop me?"

"Nah, there's no point in stopping you now, aein. You've been sneaking out to dance for a while and you would do it again if I tried."

So he knew...

You felt embarrassed after being found out, you never wished for him to know that.

"Hey." He titled your head up and looked into your eyes. "It's okay if you want to dance, I would never stop you, not like you would let me anyway." He chuckled. "You're feisty, like a tiger. I love that about you, but please just tell me that you want to dance and I'd dance with you." He caressed your cheek with his thumb. "I may not be super great about this comfort thing or taking care of someone, but I know that you're ill and I don't want something to happen to you while I'm asleep." His serious expression was soon replaced by a cheerful beam.

"Now, let's continue. It's not every day that you have a one-on-one dance session with Abby Saja."

Mystery

words [ 495 ]

You were looking through the lipsticks that Olive Young had in its offer, you had to find cosmetics for the Saja Boys to use now that they had their rebrand from cute songs to more darker ones.

Ever since performing Your Idol after the Idol Awards, they decided that it was the vibe they want to go into and you, as their biggest supporter, stylist and almost a manager, said that it may be a good idea.

So now, you were on make up supplies duty, guarded by your boyfriend, Mystery, in case your illness was triggered and you would feel worse because of walking and standing for too long.

Though you mostly agreed on Myst going with you because you needed someone to carry your bags.

"Hmm, Myst~, come here." You quietly called out for him to get to your side.

"What is it?" He replied, but instead of giving him an answer you gently grabbed him by his chin with one hand and with the other you applied black lipstick to his lips.

"Hm. Yeah I guess this one will work." You murmured to yourself. "We'll grab five of these and then we'll look at the eyeshadows here." You announced, though it was still mostly a note to yourself. You put the five lipsticks to the basket and turned around to go to the alley with eyeshadows.

You didn't notice that your body grew weaker after a few hours of walking, not until you turned around way too fast and almost fell on a shelf because you started to feel dizzy, if it wasn't for mystery catching you it would be over for you.

"Nae sarang, be careful." He said, keeping you steady with his arm wrapped around your waist.

You looked up at him and blinked a few times until your vision was back to normal. "Ah, sorry Mysty, I think I overdid myself today haha." You leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

Your exhaustion gotten back to you, your legs felt unsteady and your mind was still dizzy from all that walking.

"Oh, come with me." Mystery said suddenly.

"Hm?"

He didn't answer, which wasn't that surprising, he had a tendency to speak only in short sentences or not speak at all unless he had to. That's why he got the name he has, you supposed.

"Here." He said and guided you to sit down on a fluffy seat in the corner of the store.

"But what about our shopping? I can't do it if I sit here." You said and tugged on the fabric of his blazer.

"You said that you wanted all of us to have dark purple eye shadow right?" He asked and you nodded in answer. "I will get you dark purple eye shadow, so just rest. Please."

You sighed. You couldn't fight him when his voice was so soft and calming. "Okay, just mind the prices." You replied after pondering on the idea for a second.

Baby

words [ 493 ]

"Baby I told you that I'm fine." You groaned when your beloved demonic boyfriend sat you down on the sofa.

You just came back from the aquarium and even with how fun it was, it involved a lot of walking and standing and with your condition it was a very challenging activity to go through.

So now, after returning home, your boyfriend who just a moment ago was chasing fish and begging you to let him feed one, now was forcing you to sit down.

"Nuh uh, we've been walking for two hours." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, well I won't always end up fainting."

"You felt dizzy, idiot." He poked your forehead and sat down on the sofa next to you. "And besides, you promised me that you'd watch a movie with me."

"Ugh, I did?"

"Yup, you said that you would if I did a solo cover os Soda Pop and upload it, I did." He said with a grimace of his face at the mention of singing Soda Pop alone.

You chuckled. "Ah right, that. Alright. Let me go grab something to snack on then and we can-" You couldn't even stand up because Baby pushed you back down onto the sofa.

"No, no, no. You sit, I grab snacks."

And like that he went to the kitchen, you rolled your eyes and only shouted to him to bring you your favourite snack and grabbed the remote.

While you were scrolling through the streaming service, Baby came back with a tray of snacks and drinks. Most of them were sweets.

"Will you at least be so gracious to share some with me?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, amused by the sight of Baby having to stop himself from eating everything at once.

He turned to look at you. "I guess I can share some, I heard that sugar is good for giving energy or something."

"It is and isn't, but thanks for the thought." You smiled and moved closer to him.

"So what are we watching?' You asked after a while of scrolling through the animation and cartoons category.

"Something about fish." He said and opened a pack of gummy bears.

You giggled. "Oh god, you really are obsessed with fish. Okay then, Finding Nemo it is." You picked the movie and clicked play.

You two watched the movie in silence, until you broke it.

"Hey, Baby?"

"Hm? What's up Yeobo?" He asked, his eyes not moving from the TV screen.

"Thanks for looking out for me. it means a lot, even if I'm not the best at showing it." You said, fidgeting with your soda can.

He turned away from the screen, looking at you with slightly parted lips. "Oh, um, yeah no problem. I'm just trying to stop ya from fainting, y'know." He mumbled and looked back at the TV, though you saw that blush on his cheeks even if he tried to hide it.

Second Kpop Demon Hunters work done!

Wahh these stupid guys excite me >w< but I would love some Huntr/x asks too ;)

See you soon my KDH readers I gotta feed my other readers too <3

(play Killer Chat!, gluttony gods or seraphim slum if you're interested in the other stories I post here <3)

Nathan

[finniestoncrane]

You know what I'll bite first(?)

I want reader to convince Hector to let them care for him instead in the bedroom tonight and it's basically a mix of body worship and general praise while jerking him off

Hector x GN!Reader, word count: 1.4k ooooooooh ok i had to write this, he was living in my brain and skittering around in my pipes up there!! i've not finished his storyline yet, so no spoilers for me please!! but i know regardless of what happens next, he deserves a bit of praise and pleasure >:3c request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: a lot of praise for this boy, body worshipping, masturbation/handjobs, tiny bit of hair pulling, pre-ejac, little bit of yandere dialogue because it's hector...

"You told me you couldn't relax for yourself, so please, please let me help you. You need to learn to embrace your body. That way, I can embrace it too."

Hector's heart skipped a beat at the emphasis on your pleading, and he found himself unable to catch his breath in enough time to respond. Instead, he let himself be pushed back towards the bed in your room, sinking down into it as the back of his legs hit the edge.

"Good boy, Hector. This is the first step to changing how you see yourself. Let me show you how I see you."

The bed shifted as you sat down next to him, hand on his chest as you gently pushed him backwards, waiting until he was laying down, his dark curls resting on the pillows, before you began to stroke your fingers through his hair, twirling the locks around your fingers and hoping to soothe him. But he was still nervous, enough that he began to tug at your sheets, trying to hide himself with them out of his instinctual urge to conceal the things that he disliked so much.

"No, no. Don't cover yourself up. I want to see all of you."

"Are you sure? I still find it so hard to believe that someone as magnificent as yourself would be interested in any aspect of me."

"Really? When you're so handsome, and so sexy. I'm almost angry that you'd hide yourself away for so long, Hector. Seems wrong to keep this a secret."

It was all he could do to keep his smile from widening, but he'd warmed up to you so quickly that it was impossible to hide himself from you. And you were determined to keep things moving in that direction, so positive reinforcement was required. Luckily, you knew now how he worked, and you were able to pull the sheets away, uncovering his body and noting the slight tenting of his cock underneath his clothes. It was distracting, but not more so than his satisfied grin.

"Such a sweet smile, it makes your eyes light up. Your cheeks are so warm, so cute. And your lips, so soft... so welcoming."

"Only for you..."

Each milimetre of the tiny distance between you was tension filled and wrought with a dire need that was immediately turned to passionate satisfaction once the kiss begun. Hector was content to lay back and let you take over, offering no resistance as you deepend the kiss, and even less when your hands began to travel down his front and to the stirring below his waist. Your fingers teased below the material, skimming over the skin above his erection, feeling the contrasted texture of his thick, black pubic hair. And as the kiss broke off, Hector struggling to catch his breath, you let your lips follow his soft jaw line to his neck, your pecks and the gentle nips of your teeth interspersed with words that amounted to yet more compliments.

"I know you've felt so comfortable behind the security of the grate, but I need you, Hector. More than you could imagine, more than I think you're willing to accept. But I can show you. Let me heat you up for a change, I want to see your skin flushing, that sparkle in your eyes."

His cock was freed now, and it protruded into the air as you wrapped your fingers around the length. Average, but thick, and just a few shades darker than his perfectly clear skin. You leaned your head against him, angling your view to watch the way your hand fit so perfectly around his length. Hector shuddered, stuttering out something, but you assuaged whatever concerns he was fabricating.

"You've given me so much, all of those years, unappreciated. Now I want to pay you back, it's only right."

Your gentle strokes firmed up, quicker movements as your determination took over. You wanted him to be happy, to see him satisfied, relieved, and to at least offer him something physical in the way of evidence of your attraction to him. With your tempo set, you kept up the motions, noting that Hector's hips began to shift, pushing his cock upwards into your fist as his body squirmed slightly against the mattress.

"I'm... This is... Wow..."

With a giggle, you whispered against his skin, still loud enough that he could hear you past his own hushed whimpers.

"That sense of contentment? Of pure joy? you deserve that. You work so hard to make me happy, and I think you deserve the same back ten-fold."

"I live to please you. I ask for nothing in return. Your pleasure is just as ah... ah..."

Your other hand reached for his balls, cupping them before gently squeezing.

"All of that time you spent watching me, I think it's fair that I get to see you as you reach complete ecstacy, too, no?"

As Hector let out a sigh of relief, his body giving in finally to the looming and certain orgasm that was beginning to wash over him. A little coaxing was all it would take to get him to finally let go of the last of his tensions.

"All that stress, the nerves, your worries and concerns about how I'll perceive you? I'm going to make them all... go... away."

It sounded like a stifled groan, a strangled sound that he was trying to cover up. And you weren't having that.

"I want to hear your sweet voice, Hector. Your moans, your sighs, your screams."

Hector's stomach was tensing, the slight hint of muscles below the softness of his stomach as he clenched in response to his quickening climax. Each stroke of your fist down the shaft of his cock had him quivering, and you relished in the view of his body that you had from this perfect position. One of his hands rested in your hair, occasionally gripping at the root as he became overwhelmed with arousal. Even without the firm placement of his palm against you, there was no way you would have lifted your head from his chest. From there you could see your own hand working, pumping at his twitching cock, his precum leaking, dribbling from his head down to the visible frenulum as you pulled back his foreskin with your movements. And as you watched his body react to your stimulation, you could hear his heart beat thudding in his chest against your ear.

You were worried for a moment when his gentle whining turned into a sharp shriek, concerned that in your distractions you might have become to firm or too quick. But as you felt the warm, yet quickly cooling, liquid begin to drip over your fingers, you understood.

"Ah... I, I've ruined it. A moment so perfect, so pure. I'm so sorry. Faced with your charitable gesture, the idea that you would be so willing to help me seek the same satisfaction as I've helped you with so many times... Well, my excitement got the better of me. Yet another reason that you could do far better in-"

"Did it feel good?"

He paused his nerve driven rambling, all desire to self-flagellate superceded by his need to offer you an answer when one was asked of him.

"Of course! It was marvellous. For all that I've dreamt of how your hands might feel on my body, it was better than I ever could have guessed."

When it seemed as though he might start apologising again for something that in truth you found flattering, quite endearing to his adorably desperate nature, you placed a finger on his lips and hushed him.

"Then there's nothing to apologise for, Hector. We both got what we wanted."

You lay your head next to his on your pillow, watching his eyes scan the room, as if he were looking for the final bit of confidence to say what he said next.

"In that case... perhaps it wouldn't be too much to ask if I could lay here a while longer. I could warm you in a more manual manner than either of us are accustomed to."

Hector lifted his arm, offering you the space between that and his chest, and you willingly dove into it, wrapping your arms around his body and settling in with a sigh.

[cale-thames]

I LOVE COMMENTS!!! ❤️

And I especially love long comments which involves analyzation about my work!

I feel thankful to everyone who leaves a comment on my work. So I always try my best to reply to all of them.

But, there are times when I don't want to reply or give a late reply:

1. I am too speechless to say anything. Or I have too much to say and can't decide where to start from.

2. I don't know what else to say except 'Thank you'. And it seems awkward to reply with just a simple 'Thank you' for an essay-like comment.

3. Every time I try to write something, I can't help but re-read your comment multiple times. Hence, I use all of my free time on reading your comment instead of replying.

4. I am also socially inept. So when I ask my reader-nims a question but they didn't reply, I feel like I am bothering them. So I have the urge to not reply anymore. (Sometimes I feel like they hate me that's why they aren't saying anything. 😅)

5. I am currently in a bad mood. And I don't want my negative emotions to reflect on my reply. Hence, I wait for my mood to improve before saying anything.

6. Sometimes, no matter how much I try, or how many times I write it, ao3 refuses to let me comment. Or, I already sent the comment, but ao3 doesn't show it.

7. I probably died of happiness because of your sweet comment to say anything.💘

But trust me, no matter for which reason an author isn't replying to you anymore, they always love it when they get a new comment! So please continue commenting!

I really really really don't know who to ask and I'm new to AO3😢😥😥 Is commenting too much awkward??? I'm socially inadept and interacting with people online gives me an overload of anxiety and recently I've found this fic and fell super deep in love with it and commented massive messages on each chapter. The author replied to me at the beginning but recently they just stopped (hi I understand it's not the author's job to reply and they're likely busy with their life too) but I can't help but be kind of worried that I somehow had put them off (because my comments sometimes involves analyzations and if I get into something too much I can be too excessive) I plead for advice is this normal???

while I can only speak for myself, I as a writer absolutely LOVE it when people give me long comments (the longer, the better lol) and, for me personally, there’s no such thing as too many comments.

love love love love these long comments, they help motivate me, especially when my readers give me deep analysis on the characters and/or their actions.

anyway, fellow writers, reblog if you love long positive comments

[jbbuckybarnes]

Soulmate Subscription [LN4]

✨ Lando Norris x Reader (Y/N)

Author's note: Listen, the state of the world has become so ass that now after almost two years of not writing fanfic this 26yo is back at writing a bit to reduce stress. Don't expect me to be back fully because this unfortunately doesn't pay the bills (oh to be a nepo partner that can just do this on the side...i digress).

Warnings: Bro, I have never been to a GP, especially not as a VIP, so I have no clue how this shit works logistically. Reader is Lan's age because I said so, have fun being 25/26 y'all. Also zero proofreading and written past midnight. Formatting is bad because I posted from my phone...we run on vibes here the way Ferrari engineers do.

Prompt Used: Soulmate AU where you receive a monthly box containing clues to find your soulmate. (by @soulmate-au-bargain-bin) & "Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as want to kiss you"

Since the day you turned 18 in 2017 you had gotten small things sent to you in the mail that hinted at your soulmate. Some people took the clues and figured out their soulmates pretty fast, others took well into their 50s because their soulmate had such an average and difficult to guess life. The problem with your boxes was that you could tell this soulmate had a very uncommon hobby, motorsports, but you couldn't pinpoint it much further.

You had gotten sketches of helmets, a rag with motor oil on it, a map of the Silverstone circuit in the UK, an F1 pass, a nameless boarding ticket for a flight to Las Vegas, a small container of hair gel and a black shirt. All of those things didn't narrow it down. You could tell the person was into racing, but if it was as a fan or a hobby driver themselves didn't quite get across. Anyone could go to a race somewhere and anyone could be into tuning their own car or driving karts every now and then. The small clues weren't of any help so far and at age 26 you wondered if your life was interesting enough to even get your soulmate any closer to your identity. You liked taking the occasional dance class and walks in nearby nature. A concert every couple months and writing personal essays also weren't very identifying.

This months package arrived at the expected time, but it was bigger this time. You took it to your bed and grabbed the way too oversized cutter knife. Inside the box was a blue and orange piece of cloth with a number four on it. It seems to have been cut out of something actually wearable but the material was thicker than a usual shirt or jacket. You looked at the striped orange design of the number and grabbed your phone to look up the couple racing series you were familiar with by now, Formula E, NASCAR, Indycar, WEC, MotoGP, F4, F3, F2, F1. Who has a number four? F1 – "Number 4, Lando Norris, driving for McLaren" you mumbled to yourself. So your soulmate must be a fan of him maybe. He looked cute, a little fuckboy-ish if you were honest.

You looked at the cut out of the cloth more closely and noticed something stuck to the back of it. A piece of paper with something bunched up behind it.

"One of these days it'll have to work. No clue if I can will into existence what the universe sends you, but I'll keep trying to get you to a race. Watch this arrive after the race..." you quietly read the semi-fucked up handwriting and grabbed what is stuck between the cloth and the note. A pass reading "All-Access VIP – Belgian GP in Spa-Francorchamps – Hosted by: McLaren F1 Team"

Your eyes went wide, "Holy..." You didn't know a lot about racing other than the basics but you knew these were probably worth thousands.

"Guess I'll have to figure out how to get to Belgium."

—

You were standing in the humid heat of the European summer. The denim jacket that you had sewn the #4 cloth to on the back was already tied around your hips because the heat was unbearable. How were people doing this three days in a row?

You finally entered the circuit, not a clue of where to go next, but you were sure you'd figure it out. After all, VIP means there aren't many places you couldn't go. And somehow asking someone in a VIP area for help felt less odd to you, there must be rich people here all the time that don't usually do this.

Orange and McLaren is all you knew to look out for. Not that you would mind accidentally ending up in Ferrari heaven, but at this point you had caught up a bit on the sport and knew they weren't doing as well this year as expected. You walked down a mini road full of people between the paddock and mini houses that the teams brought with them everywhere.

A stressed-looking man in blue and white team gear walked by you with a bit of an entourage. You knew that one from the algorithm playing out a video of his to you. Carlos something with S.

In the distance you could spot shiny orange on one side and a bustling entry to the garage on the other side. Like orange little worker bees. You knew the shiny home is most likely where you'd find some water aka what you were sweating out in buckets at that moment.

You dodged your way through media representatives and people making a thousand times what you make a day and finally made your way in and beelined for a worker next to a barebones bar setup.

"What can I get you, Miss?"

"Just cold water, it's like walking through soup today."

"July races will do that to you." The person answered politely.

"At least there's some cooling in here." You took the cup with a small thanks.

"Almost too cold." You looked at the worker noticing them wearing a long sleeve. And they were right, five more minutes in there and you'd probably feel like you're in Antarctica. That electricity bill must be insane.

You drank the water and put your jacket back on.

"I don't know how people do this almost every week. I'd go insane from all the sensory inputs."

"You get used to it." They shrugged with a smile.

You heard the entrance to the motorhome become louder and a man entered with his racing overall half down. You knew that one, he was leading the championship right now. You weren't very keen on asking for pictures here, it's not like you were a big motorsports fan. He also just looked like he wanted his peace, so you focused back on staring holes into the walls of the McLaren home. You didn't notice the little lookover he gave you once he had walked past you.

Free Practice wasn't interesting you that much if you were honest. You'd watch the second one today but cars going fast were just cars going fast at the end of the day, you had two more days to see that. Plus finding your way to a place where you could watch was another mission.

"What do you mean it worked?" "Look." You heard two voices going back and forth behind you.

"I think I might throw up." "God, you're so dramatic." You looked towards the entrance but not behind you. You were nosy but not THAT nosy.

"Oh my god, how would I even introduce myself?" "Like you usually do?" "Os, this isn't fucking usual, not everyone magically went to school with their forever person the way you did." "If you don't talk to her, I will." "Oh hell nah, mate." "Well, I tried. Good look, Lan."

It got quiet around you, the two bickering voices had stopped, many people were already heading out to go watch FP2 in a bit, the worker had struck up a conversation with a rich-looking older lady.

A male figure appeared next to, "Nice jacket. I mean, hi. I mean...ugh, I won't even attempt to save that first impression." You giggled and looked up. Oh, the cute fuckboy-ish guy looking thrown off was kinda adorable, you had to admit.

"Hi. Lando, right?" He gave a small nod.

"Can I ask where'd you get it from,..." "Y/N" "Y/N" He said it very carefully as if he would need to remember it.

"I don't know, just kind of arrived one day." "Like a certain box that arrives every month?" "Maybe..."

He eyed you more intently, "That's from a race suite in my first season of F1. I figured I'd try to attach something to it and lose it on purpose."

You blinked at him trying to process, "HUH?"

"I'll need a little more input than that." He gave a boyish little grin but looked unsure.

"I just thought my soulmate would be a big fan of yours or working for you or something." He shrugged innocently.

"Oh boy." You exhaled, making him raise an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting me to process that immediately surrounded by that much sensory input?" He chuckled and shook his head, "My bad, I should've expected absolute confusion."

There was a short silence, "I assume you're not much of a motorsports fan?"

"Eh...it's not my first choice, but some of the faces are hard to dodge in advertising." He gave a wide grin to you.

He looked down at his watch, "10 more minutes of being allowed to dodge my responsibilities. You wanna talk...uh, elsewhere." You nodded.

You weren't really expecting to be dragged into a tiny room while Oscar gave you a look that read as "He's always this idiotic."

"Well, uh, this is cozy..." You stood there, a bit too close to him.

"Yeah, they don't really make big drivers rooms." His hand went through his curly hair.

"At least it's more quiet." You exhaled at the relaxation level your nervous system reached.

"You need ear plugs for the weekend?" He grabbed a round little plastic casing and handed it to you.

"Uh, thanks." "If you needed it I'd literally give you what I'm wearing right now if I wasn't legally required to wear it." He chuckled.

You blinked at him again, processing.

"Sorry, that was a bit over the top. But I meant it as in 'I'd give my soulmate anything', you know?"

You nodded, still processing.

"Am I making this awkward or are you just overwhelmed?" He asked half concerned, half to lighten up the tension.

You exhaled, "Both."

"I'm not the best with first impressions I've heard." He admitted.

"No no, I think it's cute." Now both of you were flustered.

"I always expected there to be this ideal way I'd meet my soulmate. You know that moment some people talk about." "Oh, like the, we don't need to know each other, we'll kiss first and talk second kinda stories." You both giggled.

"I mean..." He looked at you clearly jokingly flirty.

"You excude too much fuckboy energy for that to ever have been a possibility." You laughed.

He feigned offense but instantly stopped and said, "Yeah no, I can see it, my PR people were working hard on that one."

"Oh, I have not seen any PR surrounding you, that's literally just your energy." "Okay NOW I'm offended, wow!"

You both broke into laughter.

"If I win this Sunday, will you change your mind?" He looked like he liked to play with fire.

"Things only a fuckboy would ask." "Well, would you?" "Are we still talking about a kiss or me not calling out your fuckboy energy?"

He caged you in a little, not in an overbearing way, you could easily leave.

"Bit of both." A short silence, "Blushing, are we?"

"Shut up." You mumbled looking away and he chuckled.

"I'll just assume that's a yes?" You met his gaze, "Yeah."

He looked at his wrist next to your head, "Well, gorgeous, wanna watch FP2 from the coolest place of all?"

"You're assuming that wouldn't be my couch for me." He laughed at that.

"I mean I guess that's nicer than in the garage with my headset on." He eyed you, "But that wouldn't be very future wife of you."

You hid your face behind your hands, "Stop it!"

"I'll think about it, darling." He grabbed one of your hands and opened the door of the drivers room again.

His hand switched to the small of your back, guiding you through way too many people to the garage and all the shebang in there.

"Lando!" Someone in the garage called out. "Gimme one second!" His face was focused putting his headphones on you, then he gave you a self-satisfied smile, "See you in a bit, Y/N."

You had to admit, a man in a race suit wasn't the worst person you could've gotten as a soulmate. You definitely didn't mind looking at him. Or his driving.

Or the way he still looked good while sweaty after the helmet came back off after the hour of free practice.

"Is it legal to still look good when sweaty?" You joked as he walked towards you.

"I don't know, you tell me." He brushed over your forehead with the towel he was holding.

"Didn't even give me the opportunity to be offended." He grinned self-satisfied at that.

"I should probably get you some team gear so you won't die out here tomorrow." He said more to himself than your while taking the headphones from you again.

"Ew, orange." "You could also wear my shirts." He shrugged and smirked as he watched you processing yet again.

You were dragged back to the driver's room, "I like the way your brain just short circuits when I flirt with you."

"You just wait until I feel comfortable enough to throw that back at you." You pretended to be offended as the door shut behind you.

"Looking forward to it." He winked at you before taking off his fireproofs. Act normal, act normal, act normal.

He put on a shirt before his hands went to the rest of his overalls...you turned around, this man was insane, unhinged, crazy.

"You can look again." He looked at you a bit sorry when you turned around again, but only a bit.

"You're unhinged." He giggled because you were right.

"You like it." "...unfortunately."

He caged you in again, "Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as want to kiss you right now."

"Dunno, it's giving kiss first, talk second soulmate stories." You teased, but put your arms around his neck.

"I still can't believe that deliberately losing something worked." You could feel his breath on you lips.

"Still can't believe my soulmate is a dumbass driving 300kph." You both giggled before closing the distance.

You didn't expect him to be so...soft and featherlight.

"I have a feeling I'll be in trouble if I don't win this week." You gave him a challenging smirk in response.

"I'd date you either way, but I'd say it's a bonus." "I feel like your existence in my life now is already a bonus."

"You're so corny." You laughed at him.

"Well, damn, I'm sorry?" He held his hands up.

"Don't be. I like it." Soft smiles were interchanged.

"Wanna sneak off and order food?" "As long as an AC is involved." He laughed and grabbed you, expertly sneaking you out of the circuit, into his hotel and spent all evening explaining his life to you between slices of pizza.

[cheriladycl01]

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 8

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

A/N: I've brought Luisia into things because of the timeline and it being 2021. Don't hate on her, or the fact that i've brought her into my writing please!

Because there was a break you decided it would be best to stay away from social media and take some time for yourself. You promised your trainer you'd keep up with the healthy diet and exercises and but just wanted to get away from normality.

So you got to Heathrow with an large backpack and took the first flight leaving to Colomia. You spent the week climbing mountains in the Andes with a trusted tour guide you'd found while you were out there. Just the two of you as you didn't feel up for the big group excursions.

The man who'd walked the volcano peak with you had known who you were but kept it to himself talking about his life and what Colombia was like, which you enjoyed as you got to learn about his life and what he did.

You spent the week away from the harsh media fully diving into the South American culture and making connections all over Bogota. It was refreshing being away for an extended period of time and you felt more than ready to go back to racing.

You'd flown back home, saying a quick hello and goodbye to your parents before getting in your McLaren and driving to dover, you'd wanted to spend time getting to Hungry and drive yourself which a lot of the drivers would find incredibly bizarre as you'd be doing 6+ hours over the course of three days. Which to the average driver would seem easy but with how hot the car got and how hard it was to drive an F1 car compared to a normal car all mattered.

You’d made your way into France getting a picture on the bonnet of your car outside a random small town cafe.

Instagram Story Caption:

It’s been a while huh? 🤔 Gotta love a long drive to my next location 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿-> 🇭🇺

People were going crazy that you were back (fans more than anyone) and that night in your hotel room that was above the same bar you posted a photo dump from your time in Colombia.

y/user

Liked by charleslecerc, landonorris and others

y/user: Colombia 🇨🇴 you have been beautiful. From the beaches, to the walks up the mountains to the locals that expressed their love and showed me their cultures and invited me into their homes … I will be revisiting! One of my favourite places in the world! 🌍🧡

View all Comments:

fan1: omg I’m from Colombia! How didn’t I know you were there!

landonorris: so you’ve been on holidays? 🫨

-> y/user: whilst training of course! Don’t worry I’ll get you this weekend brother 👀🧐

fan2: I love that she’s taken time for herself she looks so healthy in that photo on her story!

-> fan3: so real she’s gonna slay in Hungary 🇭🇺 roll on Qually.

-> fan4: I have a good feeling about this weekend!

luisinhaoliveira99: Ola Y/N! Pretty Pretty!

-> y/user: Ah my favrioute girl!

charlesleclerc: Driving to Hungary? Wanna divert and give me a lift.

You seen Charles comment almost instantly and everyone else had too. You messaged him as you couldn't tell if he was being genuine or not. You were more than happy to make the detour to the Meditteranean side of France. It was one of your favrioute places to drive along.

He'd messaged you back not too long after and you couldn't help the smile that came across your face when you saw the message.

Your detour took you down through France driving through Nice and straight into Monaco where you drove around the roads that you'd driven in F1 for the first time not to long ago. The thought of going back round it next year was exciting. Once you pulled up outside the casino Charles gracefully waltzed over.

"Is that all?" you also looking at the small bag he had brought with him.

"Well... you're driving a sports car darling. Despite us touring Europe in a McLaren i cannot pack my entire wardrobe!" he smiles and takes a seat next to you.

"So what route are we taking" he asks turning his face to look at you and for a second you are stuck in the moment of looking at his eyes, and how soft they are, noticing the crows feet on the sides as he smiles reminding you what a happy soul he always seems to be.

You drove off, gulping down the ache in your heart knowing it wasn't right to rush anything based on what happened in the past, but also there was something drawing you to Charles and the more he weened his way into your life the harder he became to ignore.

The route you took was interesting. You passed Monaco into Italy and continued up to Milan, across to Venice up into Austria where you headed to Vienna and then down to Budapest ready for the GP, in total with all the stops it became a 4 day drive. You'd stopped in random cities finding hotel rooms at 11 pm when either of you were too tired to drive and small restaurants in the countryside when you both got hungry. It was enjoyable, more than enjoyable really.

Spending time just the two of you away from the media was exactly what you both needed. You guys just talked without the pressure of people around and it was nice. You both had a lot to stay but strangely by the end of it, it felt like not everything had been said.

Maybe the weekend at the GP would let that string unravel a little more.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I want to say I love your fics- I've been here for a while- I followed you because of your gravity falls fic and now you write for DC- I love your writing so much ❤️ I just love it how you write for most fandoms I'm in 🥹

I haven't really had the guts to send you an ask or anything- this is my first 🥹

But if you are open to it,

May I request the Batboys + Bruce Reacting to Reader being insecure because of having a plushie they had since birth, it has been with them since childhood and hasn't left their side ever since they were a child, it was old dirty and they didn't like washing it because it was sentimental to them-

I have one exactly like It and I'm a bit insecure about it- I never really dated before because I think people will think it as a childish thing-

My friends told me it's fine and normal and it's human but it's still an insecurity-

I like to blab a lot my bad- I love your works again! Please keep writing ❤️ it's okay if you can't write this too no pressure! Sending love!! ❤️❤️❤️

sweetheart, there is nothing wrong with having a childhood plush. you have your reasons for having them and that is all that should matter. It shouldn't be something you're insecure about just becuase of how other people might interpret it, that's their problem, not yours to figure out. you've got a childhood toy, so what? i have one if i looked deep enough in my house for it and it has been with me since i could remember, so don't ever feel ashamed of having something that means so much to you on a level some narrow minded people won't understand.

It's special to you, holds alot of value to you and your friends are correct, it's perfectly normal human thing to have, i promise you it's nothing to be insecure over at all and it's not childish in the slightest. And if anyone says anything, i'll fight them for you!

Jason isn't one to judge himself as he still had that paperback of the first book he had nicked when he was under Bruce's tutilage, sitting on the bookshelf amongst the other books that he has lying in wait to be read again, yet also perfectly showing the framed familiar photo of his younger self and Bruce.

So Jason knows a thing or two about having things that have sentimental values that you just can't be apart from, even if the memories connecting to that thing aren't exactly ones that he wants to ever go back, instead keeping them in memorium of the boy he used to be and knowing that he'd hate the man he had to become against his will.

Jason could never hold it against you for possessing something that helps you and means so much to you. So seeing you look so small as he sees the plushy on your bed made his heart ache, thinking that he had proven himself as someone who would welcome every part of you, much like you have welcomed every part of him.

'Oh sweetheart.' Jason says softly as he holds your face, caressing your cheeks as he gently tilts your head up from looking at the floor and look into his eyes. 'Don't ever be ashamed of having something linked to your childhood, i don't ever want you to feel as if it's something to be ashamed of, not with me as that's not how i want our relationship to be.' He adds as he kisses your forehead, casting away those negative thoughts as far away from you as he can.

'it's not throwing you off?' you asked, looking at him for any lies you may find that he tried to hide, only to find none as he laughs and brings you in close to his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

'Absolutely not.' Jason replied without hesitation. 'i'm staying here for the long wrong sweetheart so i hope your plush is okay with another person to share a bed with.' He adds as he looks over at the plush that flops onto the bed, almost as if it was giving Jason it's consent and approval for him to take care of you now.

Dick will find it sweet that you've got such a plush, he doesn't care about it's condition and would never make it an issue either, it's not his style.

He would want to know how ans when you got it and why it -above the other plushies you might've gotten in your childhood- was your most precious possesion. He'd love to listen to your stories and love the plushy as much as you did, for he didn't see it as just a plushy he only saw it as an extension of you, and he would treat the plushy with the respect it deserved for keeping you grounded and calm for all this time.

Yet when he saw how much you wanted to seemingly leave the second he saw your plush propped up on your desk, greeting you both with it's button eyes and stitched smile that you've been accostomed to for a long time, Dick can't help but feel as though he had done something wrong or didn't do enough to prove that he didn't care about the fact that you had a plush.

'who's this cutie?' He'd ask, wanting to ease you up again, 'they're not my replacement are they?' he adds jokingly as you began to find humour in the idea that Dick was comparing himself to the worn plush you've had since you were little.

'no, they're my childhood toy, hope that's not weird or embrassing.' you tell him.

Dick moves towards your plush and gently grabs their paw as though greeting it as though it was a sentient thing. 'it's actually an honour to see the plush that has kept you protected and secure for a long time, keeping you grounded and providing you a sense of calm when things get too much.' Dick then lets go of it's paw ans looks at you with a warm smile and even warmer gaze. 'it's nothing to be ashamed of, it's perfectly normal and shouldn't have to be hidden to make others comfortable at your own expense.' He finishes as he makes his way towards you and hold your hands in his.

'you're not freaked out? or disgusted?' you asked, still not certain of the whole thing.

'no. my opinion shouldn't matter becuase it doesn't, only yours and if having a childhood plush helps you, then that's all that matters.' Dick tells you as he kisses the tip of your nose.

Damian is going to ask questions but they are purely for learning purposes only.

He would never ever insult you for the fact that you carry something ever since you could speak your first words, so when he is satisfied with the awnsers given to him, Damian finds it honourable that you have something that keeps you grounded and reminds you of home.

He does his research on the pychology behind having a plushy, followed up by the benifits of having one are in order to fully understand why some people would keep their childhood stuffed toys, and making sure that Ace and Titus stay away from your plush at all times in case they mistake it as something they can play with.

He might make a face when he first sees it but it's mainly one of curiosity, tilting his head to the side as he tries to figure out the conection between you and this worn out but heavily loved plush, wheras you were regretting putting it away and out of sight and were about to when Damian keeps you from doing so by putting his hand on yours. 'why are you trying to hide it?' he would ask.

'It's weird of an adult to have an toy from their childhood, it's not soemthing that i should have anyways.' you tell him, pulling your hand from his grip as the empty feeling within you seemed to only worsen as your throat tightned with emotion that you'd let out when you were alone.

Damian furrows his brows as he looks at you and realises that his reaction was taken a you thinking he believes your weird for having a plush, and he was quick to correct this misunderstanding by holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together to prevent you from running away. 'There are research behind this sort of thing, you shouldn't feel regret or shame for having something that helps you and offers support with it's weighed attributes for a more grounding affect.' He begins as he tugs you to his side as he sits you both down on the bed, his thumbs caressing the back of your hand in silence reassurance.

'If anyone choses to raise their voice agaisnt you. Let me know and i shall have them delt with swiftly, for no one should ever spout words of venom at you, not for something that makes you feel safe and secure and in such cases allow me to be another source of reassurance and safety.' Damian continues in the way he knows how, defending your honour by using the methods he was raised to use to his advantage against those who claim it's childish.

For to him they were simply too childish if they couldn't understand themselves.

Bruce will find the plush cute as well, fully understanding the whole sentimentality that comes with having something from a young age, so he's not going to hold it agaisnt you for having a plush as an adult.

He knows the benifits of having a childhood plush and how it can reduce stress and or anxiety and bring a sense of comfort for you that he might not be able to give himself. He recagnises your childhoos plush as a source of calm in your hectic life, something that brings you back to better memories and moments that are attached to the plushy you kept.

So when he does first see the plush he doesn't show much of a reaction, acting like it's the most normal thing he's ever come across in his life, but he could see the hunch in your shoulders and the clench in your jaw that his lack of a reaction was only making your intenal thoughts even worse then before.

'If you think i'm going to shame you for having a keepsake from your childhood, then i haven't done enough on my part to do what your plush has been doing for twice as long.' He says as he looks at the plush and could easily envision you cudiling it agaisnt your chest, easily envison how it brought you down from the most stressful moments of your life thus far. 'You shouldn't have to stress about what i think about it for it doesn't matter, there's psychology and science that backs up the reason for keeping ahold of something from your past, so please don't think i'm against it when i'm actually all for it.' He adds with a small smile.

'you're not wierded out or find it silly?' you asked, still a little unsure of his acceptance of your childhood plush, thinking it to be too good to be true.

Bruce brings you into his side, kissing your temple once, twice as he squeezes your side. 'of course not, this is your anchor, your friend who has been a constant in your ever changing life, something you can always rely on to never change when it seems like eveything is moving at a faster pace for you.' He kisses your temple a third time, pratically cuddiling you to his chest now as he felt you burry into his chest.

'I would never ask you to give up your comfort for me, to put you to in a constant state of discomfort. So please don't feel as though you have to change yourself to appease others for no one is ever appeased, so you're best to staying true to yourself against it all.' Bruce finishes as the plush on your bed seemingly watched you both, happy that you had found someone that was more then accepting of you and everything you come with.

[kkuras-gamer-gf]

Read your diary | Megan Skiendiel

Smut. Any maneskin fans? Loosly based on their song of the same name! Too short, so sorry.

G!p megan. Perv!meg who sneaks into your room when your gone. Reader is just as bad kinda. Perv4perv in a way. Dom!Megan?? Who would've thought

Megan didn't intend on going this far; it started simply as wanting to be a good roommate, doing the laundry. One day while folding and putting it away, she found something, a small book. She shouldn't have read it, but she couldn't help herself.

Surprised by what she found: your dirty little secrets and detailed summaries of your hookups. Then she read further, and her name started popping up. First, just little comments about Megan being attractive, and then it switched; filthy fantasies filled the pages.

The next week, she was doing more laundry, and a pink pair of underwear fell out of the basket. She shouldn't have; she should've just put it back in the basket, but she opted to stuff it in her pocket. Later that night, she wrapped them around her cock as she pleased herself.

It should've stopped there, but it became a bad habit, stealing a pair and then throwing it in the washer after she was done. It was the perfect excuse; you were gone most of the day for work, so she felt comfortable in her dirty routine.

Until today, that is, you had a half day at work. Megan didn't know that, so she assumed it was safe. But it was different this time; she had dared to go further, settling into your bed with your used panties in her panties, reading various pages in the diary.

Just as she reaches into her boxers, you open the door with a sharp gasp at the sight.

"Wh- Is that my underwear?!" You ask, looking at the balled-up fabric in her hand.

"I—I was doing laundry."

"In my bed?!?"

She jumps up, hiding the small book behind her back.

"Well...well." She really didn't want to out herself further, but she also needed a way under your skin to get the control she wanted. "You write about how you want me to fuck you!" A smirk as she gains an upper hand.

Your jaw dropped at this. How'd she know that?

"You—wh—how?" Your cheeks are bright red as you fumble around for words, "Did you read my journal?!"

"This one?" Pulling her hand from behind her back and opening to a page, "I feel guilty. What would she think if she knew I fucked myself in her bed?" She quoted, An embarrassing confession.

"I—stop."

She didn't, flipping forward some pages.

"I wish instead of my fingers it was her coc—"

"Don't act like you're innocent." You interrupt, "You take my underwear when you do laundry. God knows what you do with it."

"I think you know what I do with it." She takes a step, making you gulp, "And I think it turns you on." Faces now only a couple inches away.

"You're disgusting." It's more of a whisper, not meaning it enough to put effort in. She wasn't wrong; you knew that with the way your core dripped.

"I'm disgusting? I'm disgusting?? Says the slut who writes chapters about me and my cock. Let's see, which page was it..." Long fingers flip through pages, "In my dream last night—"

"Fuck you."

The smirk on her face drops, slamming the book shut and throwing it on the bed before a hand moves to wrap around your neck, threatening to tighten. As much as you tried to suppress it, you couldn't help the small moan that left your mouth.

"On the bed."

You oblige, lying down, as she uses the grip she has to push you in that direction. Her hands fumbled with the button to the jeans she was wearing, not bothering to take them off, just reaching in a hand to pull her cock out, hard and already glistening with precum.

Bigger than expected, intimidating almost. Your eyes widen at the sight, causing a cocky smirk on the girl's face as she looks down at you like you're her prey.

"Aw, don't tell me it's too big. You can take it, right?" Faux sweetness in her voice.

Nodding rapidly, needing her to do anything to soothe the heat in the pit of your stomach.

At this, Megan pulls you so your legs hang off the edge. Pulling at your jeans and throwing them to the floor, a thumb rubbing over your soaked underwear, practically drooling at the sight.

"Fuck, no wonder I have to do laundry so much."

"M-Megan, please."

"You want these off, huh?" Despite the teasing tone, she pulls at them as soon as you're nodding your head. Though she doesn't throw them to the side, instead balling them up to stuff into her pants, you were too much in a haze to protest, admittedly the act turning you on more.

Her leaking tip slides through your folds with embarrassing ease before sheathing herself inside you in one thrust with no warning; a moan mixed with a cry echoed off the walls.

"Fuuuck." Megan moans as her head falls back at the sensation, "So fuckin' tight."

The brunette's hands grip at your waist, trying to ground herself and not cum right away. Starting with slow, deep thrusts, pulling little noises out of you with every move.

"You know how fucking long I wanted to do this?" Her breathing gets increasingly labored, and she thrusts quicker with her words as if she's working herself up.

"Fix that bratty attitude." A particularly harsh thrust as she mumbles the last part.

"P-pl-please." The words leaving your lips don't even make sense as you beg her, for what you're not sure.

It's like she was made to fuck you with the way her body fit with yours, the tip of her cock reaching where others have. Her tempo changed in tune with your body; it makes you wonder if she's that good or if she did a little too much research.

"Tell me how good this cock feels."

"Shhhit. So, so good." Words slurring at the pleasure, hands grabbing to try and pull her closer.

Megan's hand that once gripped your waist moved to rub fast circles over your clit, your own hand wrapping around her wrist at the overwhelming sensation. You didn't want to admit that your nerdy perv roommate had you close to an orgasm within minutes. Neither did Megan, as she wanted to uphold her current dominance, holding herself back.

"Mm, I want to fill you up." She mutters through her heavy breaths.

The loud moan you let out shows the effect it had on you, clenching around her, basically begging for it.

"You'd like that, right? Having my baby?" Megan's voice lowered as her hips stuttered, the idea making her closer to cumming.

"Yes! Fuck, yes. Please." Tears stream down your face as you plead for her to fill you up. "Want it so bad."

"Yeah? Want my cum, baby?" Breathless moans and whimpers as her once loserish persona fades back in a bit as she reaches her peak.

Pulling out her eyes filled with wonder as she stared at the liquid dripping onto your bedsheets, seemingly never experiencing it before.

Your body lay limp; you barely noticed her cleaning you up with your own underwear and, of course, stuffing them back in her pocket for whatever perverted thing she'd do with them later. Grabbing the diary from beside you and placing a sweeter-than-expected kiss on your cheek before grabbing your laundry basket.

"Same time next laundry day?" She smirks before walking out to your laundry room.

It seems now you have a new tradition for laundry day.

[caseyscorner014]

For the love of God, please.

I'm Casey, a 21 year old disabled transmasc creator with DID and chronic pain that so far seems to be pointing towards fibromyalgia. I can't work or drive and it's hard to feed myself and walk because of the pain in my knees. I'm very close to losing my house and needing to move, but despite getting 600+ hits on Ao3 and despite posting my works and linking what I write here on Tumblr, no one has reached out to me. I need to save up for food, for a wheelchair, for rent, and for moving costs. I don't know if my writing's not good enough, if I'm just not reaching out enough, or what, but this is me making another attempt to reach out. I haven't been able to write owing to the intense pain and lack of motivation from the continued silence. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm not sure how exactly I can prove I'm not a bot, I know there are a lot of those going around on Tumblr these days, but if anyone can help me by sharing my posts or commissioning me it would mean the world.

Happy Pride !!!!!

If you're part of the community and a creator , reblog this with the commission page for your art / fanfiction

[kahlilahmad12]

💢An urgent appeal from the heart of Gaza, a cry of pain that the world does not hear...💢

My name is Khalil. I write to you, bleeding from the pain of a land besieged by hunger and fear.

The situation in Gaza is unbearable. The war is no longer just shelling and explosions; it has turned into a real (hunger) war.

No food, no water, no medicine... famine is silently ravaging us.

Yesterday, my need to feed my family and my younger siblings, who go to bed without food every day, drove me north, toward the crossing, where trucks loaded with flour entered. I was dreaming of just one bag of flour to feed my younger siblings. But instead of flour, I found shells raining down on us.

More than 40 people were martyred in front of me in an instant, and I was just meters away.

I was shot in the leg, and I fell among the dead. I don't know how I survived... I only know that I am no longer able to walk for long, let alone feed my family.

We are in a real hell. My family, my younger siblings, and my ailing father are going to bed without food. Our mothers are crying in grief, and we are unable to even secure a loaf of bread.

(Please, from a broken heart, help us buy a bag of flour.)

Your donation today could save a soul from starvation.

We aren't asking for much... just a little mercy. I beg you. We need a bag of flour. Please help me and provide flour for my family.🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

[kaysfanficcorner]

The Camgirl and the Millionaire, Part 3

Pairing: Harry Castillo x Camgirl Reader

Summary: Things get more complicated.

Author's Note: Well here we are. I had so much fun writing this chapter and I am incredibly proud of it. These two have captured my heart and I cannot wait to see this little story through to the end. Harry and his camgirl have been the highlight of my summer so far. Thank you for being along for the ride, and please enjoy one of the most explicit things I've written to date.

New note, 6/25: Also, I went back and made one small edit to part 2. In it, Harry said it was June. For the outline I have planned I needed to move things up two months to August, so now I just made Harry make a vague reference to it being summer. You’ll understand when part 4 comes out!

Warnings: Alcohol consumption; Mentions of THC consumption; Cursing; Flirting; Lying, which I assure you hurts to write just as much as it hurts to read; Angst; Fluff; SMUT in the form of unprotected sex, oral, cum eating, anal; A lot of feelings; Reader is thic; Reader is sort of goth; Reader has pierced nipples; Reader is a sex worker; I gave Harry an appendix scar, don't ask me why

18+, Minors DNI

Ao3

*****

Harry can’t quite believe himself, feeling legitimately nervous as he waits for you near the entrance, but still inside the events venue. Women don’t tend to make him nervous, not at this stage of his life at least. Somehow, someway, you make him incredibly nervous. Perhaps it’s because you’re nothing like anyone he’s ever felt attracted to before. With you everything feels strangely different. So different that he let himself go during the concert, not giving a single damn if anyone who he may know was paying any attention to him or not. But now, after coming down from his multiple highs, Harry’s sure he’d overdone it and he’s sure people will be talking come Monday morning. The question is, though, should he really care all that much?

Shortly after you both agreed to get food together, you declared that you needed to use the restroom and grab your things from the employee area in the back. You explained how you and Vanessa were able to get into the event in the first place with the help of that guy, Charles was it? The venue’s owner, evidently. Apparently Vanessa is usually at these events as an employee, which is in all honesty not much of a surprise. It all makes sense. As he stands there thinking about it, the puzzle pieces of how his evening ended up going in this direction have started clicking together. You’re not from this walk of life and you certainly would have never attended this event without the promise of the musical guest. Harry was only able to meet you due to some wild stroke of fate. Or luck. He’s not sure which. 

Harry himself doesn’t care, but your lack of status makes things even more scandalous when he really thinks about it. He knows that his brow must be riddled with worry as you’re approaching him once again, looking much more casual than you had when you walked away. When he really sees you, though, the worry in him fades away. 

 You’ve lost about three inches to the tasteful black Jimmy Choos you’d been wearing, which you’ve now replaced with short ankle-high black socks and a pair of black and white checkered Vans. The classic slip ons, a shoe Harry hasn’t noticed anyone wearing in a long while. He supposes that they are still popular if you’re wearing them, but most of the people he interacts with on a regular basis would not go for skateboarding shoes even in the most dire of circumstances. It’s an intriguing choice, much like the rest of you.

Your hair is back to being drawn up from your neck and shoulders, though the look is much messier than the bun Harry had ruined in the heat of the moment. You’ve got a black sweater slung over your forearm, and the straps of the heels are looped through your index and middle fingers on that same hand. Your free hand comes to rest on his arm as you move in beside him. Somehow being shorter makes you even more adorable to Harry, and he’s once again thanking himself for taking the plunge to enhance his own appearance. Your height difference is exactly what he imagined for himself when the surgery was possibly just a disastrous idea. At his true height the two of you would be nearly eye to eye.

“There you are,” you say with a little grin. “I bid farewell to the lovers back there so I’m good to go when you are. Van says you better not murder me or kidnap me, or she’s gonna come after you. I told her I’d be fine with the latter and she better not try to save me and ruin our good time.”

Harry nearly chokes at the suggestion, the very notion of it shocking, but your giggle at his reaction is enough to calm him. “You really aren’t like other girls,” he says, at a loss for more to say than that. 

“The highest compliment a girl can receive,” you agree, leaning into him slightly.

Harry looks around the room, noticing a few eyes on them, and he’s suddenly wildly ready to leave. His driver should be pulling up any minute, but he hasn’t heard the ding of a text or felt the vibration of a notification in his pocket yet. His eyes narrow a little as he regards you seriously.

“Listen, I want you to know that I don’t normally behave like that when I’ve only just met someone. I don’t know if I’ve ever behaved like that, actually. I apologize if I came on too strong on dancing with you, or singing those crass lyrics.” Harry says this with a self conscious little pit in his stomach. 

A moment ago he felt very confident that dancing with you in such an erotic way had been the right call, but suddenly he’s not so sure. It’s not enough to throw him off his game completely, but thinking back on how sultry the last hour and a half of his life has been, in a very public place, a wave of true embarrassment surges through him. People like Harry aren’t supposed to act like that, at a charity event no less. He finishes the water in another large gulp, mostly as a way to avoid looking at you directly while you respond. He could really use the next liquid he consumes to have an alcohol content. 

The look you send him is clearly one of gratitude. “Harry, you were great. You are great. I appreciate your concern for me, but I truly had the time of my life with you out there. I wouldn’t be standing here right now if you made me uncomfortable. No apology needed.”

What a relief washes over him. “As long as you felt safe and respected,” Harry adds, nodding once.

You’re nodding in return, smiling unfalteringly. “I felt very safe and very respected. A little worshiped, even. Singing those lyrics was absolutely the right call and at your handsiest you were still very respectful. Thank you for being a gentleman. That’s rarer than you may think these days.”

“Mhm, I’m aware that men in general suck,” he agrees, looking around the room nervously again. 

Now that his integrity has been cleared up with you, he’s not so sure it will be for anyone else who was paying attention to him tonight. As Harry glances around, he catches the gaze of a haughty looking blonde woman whom he knows he went out with once, but can’t possibly recall the name of. Cynthia? Cheryl? Something with a C? Harry remembers thinking it was a fitting letter because she’d certainly been a bit of a cunt, the way she’d spoken down to their waitress being enough evidence of that. Someone like her is the antithesis of what Harry wants in a life long partner. 

The unpleasant woman notices Harry looking and frowns deeply at him, clearly still scorned by his rejection. Then she sees you, how closely you’re pressed to him, and she gives you a once over which suggests exactly what she thinks of you. Her eyes land on your worn pair of streetwear shoes for a long moment, and her upper lip curls in an ugly sneer. 

“Some women suck too, though,” he says with distaste, frowning a little. “Wait, that sounds sexist. What I mean to say is: I think most people suck.”

“Sucking as a person encompasses all genders,” you agree.

Your gaze follows his to the woman across the room, and Harry watches your brow raise, but then to his great surprise you blow the woman a kiss and lean into Harry even more as you lift up on your tiptoes to place a chaste peck to his neatly trimmed jaw. He’s certain it was one of his gray patches, and his chest swells a little. Normally he’d be horrified that you just did that, but seeing the other woman huff and walk off strikes a chord within him and that warmth he felt spreading through him earlier on in the evening comes back. 

What a curious feeling. 

Once you’ve clearly had your fun you ignore the woman completely, looking back at Harry with a sugary sweet smile on your lips as you rub your bare shoulder into his upper arm. “I may have some money compared to most but I’m not one of these stuffy broads. Maybe I’m wrong with this read, but I don’t think you would be hanging out with me if I was.”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry breathes, pleased to know that you’re actually seeing him. That feels new for some reason. “I have a feeling that people like her are going to talk, because we definitely gave them something to talk about…” he trails off, a smile creeping onto his lips as he remembers how your body fit against his so well. 

“See, that’s the spirit! We had fun, so fuck those other people. And your reputation is safe with me. I’m not going to run off and tell the ‘who’s who’ that Harry Castillo is an incredibly sexy dancer. Or that his hands were all over me and it was the most amazing I've felt in another’s company since I can’t remember when. Or that his lips are addictive. I won’t even say that he’s quite handsome. Very bite-able.” 

As you say that last bit, you’re leaning over to gently nibble at his shoulder through the white dress shirt. Harry could care less that you probably just stained it red with rouge. He’s never met a girl who wants to openly gnaw on him before, and his stomach flutters in response to it. 

Harry’s shaking his head, wanting to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking about you like that. “It’s not you I’m worried about when it comes to my reputation, it’s the rest of these sharks. I’m sure at least one of them caught a whiff of blood in the water.”

You grin widely, laughing. “Yeah, well, my favorite character in Jaws is Captain Quint, so let the bastards try and take a chomp at you while I’m around.”

His left brow raises curiously. “Doesn’t the captain get eaten by the shark at the end of that movie?”

“That’s neither here nor there, but if it would make you feel better I’ll change my favorite to Sheriff Brody,” you giggle, then you change the subject. “Is our ride here yet?”

At that moment, Harry feels a vibration against his right thigh a barely audible ding goes off. “Actually, I think it is.”

*****

Harry links arms with you as the two of you descend the stairs leading down to the sidewalk, and the feeling of guilt slowly eating away at your gut gets a little worse. You really like this guy, and starting things out with a lie feels like it’s suddenly a huge mistake. But what if you come clean and he ends the night before you’re ready for it to end? Isn’t it best to see the rest of this night through and then see where things go with him after that? There’s still a good chance that he’ll disappear from your life after tonight and then you will have embarrassed yourself for no reason. And, again, it’s not that you’re embarrassed about your profession, but you’re starting to feel embarrassed for being a liar and a coward. That stings a lot, especially when the spark you’re experiencing with Harry feels like it's not nothing. 

Apparently you got so lost feeling guilty and anxious just now, that you completely missed the fact that you and Harry have made it down to the crowded curb. As well as the fact that your favorite musician is no less than twenty feet away as he gets ready to climb into his limo, surely off to some club or afterparty. You also hadn’t realized that you've been staring directly at the handsome celebrity, or that you’re wearing a displeased look on your face, until Harry looks at you with an expression of worry on his own.

What Harry doesn’t realize is that you’re deeply displeased with yourself at this moment, but he must think it has something to do with him. He seems a little self conscious as he looks over at the famous man climbing into the white stretch, frowning as his chocolate eyes meet yours once more. “You know, I can probably find out what party he’s going to.��

Your eyes widen, shocked that he thinks you’re worried about that . “I didn’t even notice him, Harry. I was distracted by something else.” 

“What is it? You seem upset all of the sudden.”

This is it. Your chance to tell the truth. Do it, do it, do i-

“The heels killed my feet,” you lie, adding a wince for effect, though your feet really do ache.

  Apparently lying is just your fucking thing now, you think, shame filling you for a moment. Coward.

“ Oh ,” he looks utterly relieved, and you can’t help but wonder how he can be so confident at one moment and almost vulnerable at the next. It makes you wonder if he’s been a little deprived of certain things emotionally in his life, thinking that makes two of you if it’s an accurate read. 

Just then a sleek black car pulls up behind the leaving limo, and Harry’s opening the door to the back seat for you. “Let’s keep those feet off the ground, then”

“Are you planning to sweep me off of them, Harry?” You flirt effortlessly, feeling a sense of calm wash over you again when he grins handsomely in response, fingers slipping in between yours. That’s it, just get your groove back.

“If you’ll let me,” Harry says, the air of if completely honest. 

As he guides you down into the leather seat, your hands remain joined. He leans down to kiss your knuckles once before letting your hand fall down into your lap. Then the door shuts, and a moment later the door on the other side opens. You’re grinning at him as he slides in beside you. Literally right beside you, not just in the other seat. He’s even using that weird middle seatbelt that no one likes, body pressed closely to yours as you buckle yourself in too. 

*****

Soon the two of you are instead seated across from one another in a twenty-four seven diner splitting a whole cheesesteak and a couple of cheap beers. Both of you remark that neither of you really eats food like this anymore, and that you’ll both regret it when you feel like shit the next day. But damn does it taste amazing. It also helps that you both took some generous hits on the dab pen again before entering the restaurant, making the greasy subs all the more alluring. 

You’re grinning at him between bites and sips, practically moaning. “I’m so glad that they put cheese wiz on this the real Philly way. Fuck, I’m in heaven.”

He nods in agreement, chewing a hefty chomp of his own. “This is very delicious, which means it could definitely kill me. Are you from the Philadelphia area, then?”

“No, the Baltimore area. A dinky town outside of the city. Close enough to Philly, though. I still know a good cheesesteak when I taste one. I just know a good crabcake better.”

“I knew your accent was from one of the two. Philly didn’t feel right though.” 

You smirk, “It’s the weird ‘o’ thing we do, isn’t it? I’ve never been able to shake that.”

Harry shrugs into another bite of his sandwich. “I think it’s cute.”

Downing the rest of your beer, you’re blushing as you tell him, “Well I like your voice a lot. It’s handsome and smooth, like rich caramel in my ears.”

Harry snorts into his own beer, shaking his head with a cartoonish grimace. “Caramel in your ears doesn’t sound pleasant. Come on, Miss author . Is that the sexiest thing you could come up with?” 

“It sounded like a good phrase in my head,” you’re forcing yourself to laugh, ignoring the sick jolt of anxiety he just caused. There are a few bites of cheesesteak left on your plate, but your appetite is long gone.

Harry seems to notice how fake it sounds, frowning. “You know what? I’m going to quit teasing you about that. We don’t have to talk about your writing unless you bring it up. That was rude of me. Shit . I’m not doing a very good job of earning that trust we talked about, am I?”

Deflect, deflect, deflect. Be fucking cool about it. “It’s okay. I’m not that upset. I’ll admit that wasn’t one of my better turns of phrase, but I can’t help it that amber is the color of your energy, Harry.” Joking as an attempt to re-lighten the mood, you’re grinning when he makes a scrunched face at the reference. But then that lovely face of his morphs into a relieved smile, and your anxiety settles.

“You’re too funny,” he chuckles. “I like your sense of humor. It’s refreshing.”

With a fake scoff, you’re feigning surprise. “You mean to tell me that blondie from the venue back there wasn’t a funny person? I never would have guessed.”

“Shocking, I know,” he agrees, grin handsome as ever. 

A wave of emotion rolls over you when you take a moment to really look at his face, at how beautiful he is and how lucky you feel to be here with him in this moment. The need to speak from the heart strikes you, and you let yourself go a little. “I’m having a really good time with you tonight, Harry. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think meeting you is the thing I’ll cherish more than the actual concert.”

“I feel similarly,” Harry says, reaching a hand across the table for you. You slip yours into his easily, and he gives a gentle squeeze. “Do you want me to take you home to your place after this?” Harry asks, eyes darkening a little as he waits for your answer. He looks both nervous and hopeful.

You reply honestly, “If I say no, that I’d like to go home with you instead, will you think I’m an easy slut? I don’t make a habit of going home with strange men, usually.”

Harry shakes his head fervently, laughing. “If anything I’m worried that you think I’m an easy slut. I typically go on a couple of dates before I bring someone home. I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

“Me neither. I can’t explain it, but this feels different for me. You feel different. You keep saying I’m not like most girls, but you’re not like most guys. Do things feel different for you tonight, Harry?”

He nods, “They do. You’re more than welcome to come home with me, if it’s truly what you want.”

“It’s what I want,” you say honestly, scared of what telling the truth in this regard means considering how much you’ve lied about everything else. Every time you’ve had the opportunity to come clean before it’s too late, fear has halted your mouth. Nothing’s stopping your wicked, traitorous tongue this time around, though.

“I like you a lot, Harry.” Confessing this with real emotion behind your words, you’re willingly making this more complicated. It’s as if you’re suddenly uncaring of the consequences you may eventually face for it, stepping blindly into a situation that simply can’t end well because you have to see where it goes regardless. You desperately need Harry Castillo to know exactly what he does to you, and for you to understand what you do to him. You need it more than you need to breathe. 

“I like you too,” Harry agrees, smiling at you genuinely as he wipes his hands and discards with his napkin on the empty plate. He downs the rest of his beer, eyes darkening as the slice of lime slides down the neck of the bottle with the final drops of golden liquid. The way he looks at you feels almost predatory for a moment, like he’s deciding when to pounce. 

“Now, tell me,” he says your name, letting it melt ever so slowly on his stupidly alluring tongue, “if this were one of your stories, what would happen next when we finally establish that the two main characters like each other?"

*****

Harry’s tongue is buried so deeply in your cunt that the end of his broad nose is simultaneously and unceremoniously kneading into the sensitive, swollen nub begging for attention just above your wanting slit. It occurs to you that you very well could get off from his nose if he keeps this up any longer but just when you think that, his appendages disappear, and the airy chill on your soaked mound is enough to sober you up a little. You’ve half a mind to complain that he stopped, beginning to prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. 

But then there’s a swift, nonpainful swat to your inner left thigh.

“Lay back down,” Harry commands, growling in a voice dripping with a dominating tone that could send you off to the other side if you let it. “Nowhere near done tasting you yet.” 

 You’re on the kitchen island in Harry’s insanely lavish apartment, the shirt of your red dress pushed up over your waist to expose the lower half of you. Your black thong is hanging from the faucet on the kitchen sink, where it landed perfectly when Harry threw it behind his head without looking. You’d wanted to laugh at the bullseye, but Harry’s determination to get between your legs stopped you from being silly. Instead, you let him spread you, wailing and moaning as he proceeded to eat you out better than you’ve ever had it in your entire life. That you can confidently say, and you’ve had a handful of mouths bring pleasure to your body over the years.

Harry’s a pro beyond pros, knowing every little nuance to a woman’s most sacred of needs. 

He proves that when you follow his orders, laying back down to give him full access. His tongue runs from the base of your slit slowly up to your aching clit, stopping to swirl around it a few times before suckling lightly. Then he stops abruptly, repeating the entire pattern all over again. Each time he shows extra attention to your engorged nub, your body heats up even more and the cries of elation spewing from your wanton mouth echo through the apartment’s high ceilings.

Harry Castillo is secretly a madman, you’re sure of it, and his sexual vigor is right up your alley. The man is still fully dressed. You have no idea what his dick looks like, or the rest of that surely inviting body, and he hasn’t even seen your tits yet. They are still firmly secured in the bodice of your dress. 

Upon entering the apartment, Harry told you that if he didn’t get a taste of your pussy before the two of you did anything else, then he was liable to explode. 

Hearing him say that as he effortlessly lifted your ass up onto the gorgeously finished wood countertop? That made you start to fall for Harry Castillo before he ever put his mouth to your flesh. 

“Been thinking about this all night, sweetheart. Ever since we danced,” Harry says into your folds, hot breath and facial hair causing your back to arch in anticipation. He’s practically nuzzling your vagina with his entire face, spreading your wetness and his own saliva all over himself. You keep yourself neatly trimmed and waxed at all times thanks to your secret profession, and Harry seems to appreciate this immensely. “It’s even better than I imagined. So pretty and soft and wet for me, aren’t you?”

“All for you,” you breathe, pushing your hips forward to try and coax his mouth back onto you. “ Please , Harry,” you’re begging, voice husky and needy, “I was about to cum before you stopped.”

The chuckle Harry lets out is low and handsome, nearly sending you over the edge with the very sound of it. You feel his hands grip your thighs, spreading them even more. Then his tongue starts trailing each of your labia majora, one after the other. 

“I’m well aware of that, sweetheart. I just wasn’t ready for you to cum yet.” A kiss to your inner thigh. “Soon, though, I promise. Just be patient for a little longer.” A kiss to the opposite thigh. “Let me take care of you how you deserve to be taken care of.”

Then, without warning, two of his thick fingers enter you at once. They wiggle about a few times, getting fully coated in your fluids, and then he’s pumping slowly.

Wide-eyed, your head tilts up so you can look to where he’s seated between your legs on the footstool he’d pulled up when this encounter began. “ Harry ,” you breathe.

“Yes?” He asks, grinning devilishly up at you.

“You’re amazing,” you say dreamily, grinning widely to yourself as your head lay back down. 

Soon your orgasm is steadily building again, core tingling from the combination of his fingers curling sharply into your g-spot, and the darting flicks from left to right of Harry’s expert tongue. This time he doesn’t deny you, boring into your clit with more intensity as a third finger finds your entrance.

“Let go for me, sweetheart. Show me what you can do,” Harry coos lasciviously, then digs into his meal with a ferocity which finally tips you all the way over the edge.

Grunting and shaking, your body convulses with your hands braced against the countertop. It’s as if you’re trying to push all of yourself into Harry as the orgasm rocks through you, and then suddenly everything feels too sensitive and you’re hissing at him to lay off a little bit. 

He does, and as you breathe heavily in the aftermath of your bliss, he trails kisses all over your stomach before laying his head down on your belly button. Hands shakily prying themselves from the wood, you snake them into Harry’s soft brown hair and begin to comb your fingers through it. 

“You were so lovely,” he remarks, voice almost dreamy. “You came so beautifully for me, sweetheart.”

Your own voice sounds throaty, almost foreign to yourself. This isn’t like the fake voice you put on for work, this is real sexual tranquility. “Thank you, Harry. That might be my best orgasm to date. Not joking. I’ve received oral from a handful of people and I’ve never felt anything remotely close to what you just did."

“Well I will always try to ensure that your next one is still your best to date, then.” 

Fuck. He’s talking like this isn’t going to be a one night thing. And after the tonguing of a lifetime, you know you don’t want it to be either. You’re so royally fucked, and he hasn’t even actually fucked you yet.

Realizing this, you begin to sit up a little, causing Harry to lift up from your belly and look at you curiously. So you quickly explain, “I need you, Harry. All of you.” 

Harry stands, lifting you to sit up more with your ass sliding off the edge of the counter. He’ll have to clean that massive wet spot in the morning, but you pay that little mind as your bare feet touch the cool ground. Your knees begin to give out as your skirt falls to rest below them. Harry catches you easily as you wobble into him with a soft moan, and then without a word he’s sweeping you up into his arms bridal style. You’re a little nervous, given that you’re a few jean sizes up from someone like Vanessa, but he’s kissing you on the forehead as he easily carries you from the kitchen to the master bedroom with little strain.

There he lays you down on a bed of white satin, a bed so ridiculously huge that you can’t help but giggle at how tiny you feel laying in the center of it. 

Harry’s unbuttoning his shirt, smiling down at you fondly. “What’s funny?”

You’re shaking your head, laughing. “This bed is ginormous, Harry, and I haven’t called something ginormous since I was a kid. But it’s an appropriate adjective, this thing is cartoonishly big.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asks, smirking. His shirt is gone, now his undershirt. The body hidden beneath is one well maintained with diet and exercise, defined lean muscle tone showing you as much. Naturally tan, with dark body hair and an appendix scar, he looks so utterly beautiful to you. His hands are going for his belt, and suddenly you’re up on your knees, scooting forward towards the edge of the mattress. “Wait, please let me,” you ask sweetly, hands already reaching for the black leather strap and silver buckle as Harry’s hands instead move to find the zipper leading down the right side of your red dress. 

As you unbuckle him and slide the belt from its loops, discarding the thing to the side, Harry is simultaneously unzipping you. He lifts the fabric, tugging upwards, and your arms lift to accommodate the rising garment as it’s peeled from your body. Harry, aware of how nice the dress is, gently hangs it over the back of the stylish black accent chair across the room. As he turns to really take in your fully nude appearance, a warm smile so sweet crosses his features. There’s lust in the expression, sure, but his eyes wash over you several times and each time it looks as if he’s almost overwhelmed by what he sees. 

“I’ve never seen pierced nipples in real life before,” he remarks, mesmerized by them as he leans forward to cup both breasts in his hands. The pad of each thumb runs gently over the black barbells, stimulating the raised nubs of flesh nestled between. 

For a moment you’re self-conscious about them, frowning a little. “Are they too much? Ex-goth girl, remember? They’re a relic of the past, but I loved them too much to get rid of them. The lip and the eyebrow had to go, though.”

Shaking his head, Harry frowns a little too. “Please don’t be embarrassed. I love them. It’s just a little new for me, that’s all. Will I hurt you if I play with them?”

Relieved, you smile at him with a shake of the head. “No, as long as you’re careful not to yank too hard, obviously.”

Harry takes that as permission to dive in, and both his hands and his mouth spend a good few moments ravishing your ample breasts. Squeezing, pinching, licking, biting. 

“You’re so lovely,” Harry says your name, “what a prize you are. Though, I don’t entirely know what I did to win.” 

“As if you’re not a prize too,” you say, rolling your eyes a little as finally he moves his crotch back within reach. You make quick work of undoing his trousers, and then he helps you yank them down his legs, stepping out of them. Gripping the elastic waistband of his black boxer briefs, your movements are slow and deliberate as you pull down and forward. The trail of dark hair below his belly button is growing wider and thicker by the inch, trimmed neatly but still prominent. Slowly the base of him becomes visible, and then in one swift move his erection is springing free. 

A little gasp escapes your lips at the sight of him, not only pleased to see his foreskin still intact but truly shocked by his size. You’re not entirely sure how long he is, certainly long enough, but the massive girth of him is really what makes your mouth water. The anticipation of that thing stretching your walls is enough to make your core heat up again, ready for round two. 

“You like him?” Harry asks, smiling down at you as one of his hands strokes your hair. 

“I love him,” you agree, licking your lips as you lean forward to take him into your hand. Harry moans, hips bucking slightly. Having worked with an uncircumcised cock before, you know how to grip him and gently pull downwards, unveiling his swollen head and the delicious little bud of precum waiting for you. “Now this is a prize. You even get to unwrap it,” you say with a flirtatious giggle, adding, “and dare I say it's ginormous . There I go using that word twice in one night.”

When your tongue flicks out to lick that offered drop, Harry’s whole being seems to melt into you a little. Grinning, you widen and slowly take him into your mouth. Adding a little bit of pressure and suction, you slowly begin to work him in and out as the hand gripping him continues its rhythmic pumping. The little whimpers he’s making for you are music to your ears. 

“Oh shit , sweetheart, you’re doing great, keep going,” Harry’s encouraging, both hands in your hair now as his eyes slip closed and he throws his head back a little. “ Fuck .”

You’re gagging, trying your best to fit all of him down your throat as a bit of drool dribbles down your chin, when suddenly he’s stopping you. He’s pulled out and he’s trying to push you to lay down. He even leans down to lick at one of your pierced nipples, his hand resting between your breasts as he pushes. 

“Wait, I wasn’t done yet,” you pout, reaching for him again. 

Harry growls, a primal noise from a refined man such as he, and he’s urging you backwards onto the white bed more. As you lay out below him and the gorgeous man is crawling between your legs, they instinctively bend and come to wrap around his hips a little. Your hands come to rest in the middle of his back, fingers gripping in anticipation of what’s to come. Then you feel the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance and, still slick from Harry’s treatment of you in the kitchen, your cunt welcomes him into your body easily. 

A great cry escapes you as the width of his cock stretches you out considerably, the line of pain and pleasure blurred as your walls clench and squeeze, half trying to accommodate him and half trying to expel the painful intrusion. 

Three slow, gentle pumps are all it takes for Harry to enter you all the way to the hilt, and when his tip presses painfully into your cervix, the moan you let out is quite guttural. 

Then his lips are on yours, and your legs are hooking behind him at the ankles as he really begins to pound into you. His hands come to your ass, sliding below each cheek. With the leverage this gives him, Harry lifts your hips from the mattress completely. Thrust after thrust he’s relentless, and another orgasm is already starting to build deep within your needy core. 

“You’re going to make me cum again,” you whine between heavy breaths. Head lifting up to bite into his bicep, the need to cling to him for dear life has taken over completely. The only thing you have left to grab him with is your teeth, and so you do.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Harry’s mouth is against your ear saying, “taking me so well like a good girl. I was right when I sang that to you earlier; Little pussy fits my dick so perfectly.” He pulls your ear lobe into his mouth, nibbling on the soft flesh as you writhe and whine for him. “You’re going to cum again, this time with my cock buried all the way inside you, sweetheart. Need to feel you contract around me. Then, if you’ll let me, I’m going to fill you up with mine.” 

Fearful, you practically start to push him off of you, terrified of the consequences if he were to cum in you. “I’m not on the pill! Or anything!” 

He stops thrusting for a moment, looking down at you seriously as he brushes hair from your eyes and kisses your forehead. “I had a vasectomy a few years ago. It was my forty-fifth birthday present to myself when I decided I definitely don’t want kids.” After he says that, he begins to slowly gyrate his hips into yours again, and you’re lifting to meet his movements in tandem. 

Then you kiss him with everything you’ve got. 

“ Fuck, Harry ,” you moan, “I think you might actually be fucking perfect for me.”

And with that, he fucks you until you’re practically braindead, completely stupified by his cock. You ride him a little, and then he’s on his knees taking you from behind off the edge of the bed. For a moment he migrates things to the bathroom, where he props you up on the sink and pounds into you standing up. 

Then it's back to the bed with your legs straight up his body, crossed ankles resting on his right shoulder. He’s holding them in place with his right hand, and his left is gripping into your thigh so hard you’re sure to have five small bruises where his fingers are indented into your smooth, damp skin. Harry’s done an expert job of edging you once more, changing positions each time you start to get close, his own stamina and restraint a marvel. It’s starting up again, though, and this time he’s not stopping to switch things around. 

“Close again, Harry,” you spout out through thick moans, a small part of you wanting him to prolong this more even though the rest of you is screaming in agony for release. 

“Go ahead,” he says sweetly, smiling as he kisses your calf and looks you right in the eyes. “Let me see that face while you cum for me. You look so beautiful stuffed with my cock, sweetheart. Show me .” 

Then he bites down on the same spot he just kissed, and your second orgasm overcomes you. Your muscles clench around him so hard, clinging to the very thing causing them to do so. Harry lets out a gorgeous sounding moan, leaning more of his weight into your legs as the pleasure of it seems to take hold of him. 

He’s parting your legs as you come down, twitching against him as he readjusts into a more basic missionary position. Your arms come to wrap around his neck, just as your legs move to wrap around his waist. Shortly after that, Harry’s own grunting cries of culminating ecstasy are ringing throughout the high ceilings of the bedroom. He’s convulsing against you and you’re instinctively cradling his head, peppering his cheeks and forehead with little kisses to guide him through it. A few more gentle pumps and he’s eventually sliding out of you with a great sigh. There’s almost instantly a distinct leaking sensation running down the crack of your ass. 

He’s kissing your forehead, then looking right into your eyes as he gets comfortable beside you. “You okay?”

“I’m great. How are you?

“I’m perfect, sweetheart. Just perfect.”

“Your body felt so good, Harry,” you’re sputtering out, grunting as your own body is again twitching in a brief aftershock of sexual bliss. “Everything felt so good.” 

Harry is nodding in agreement, looking up at the ceiling with this handsome little grin playing at the corner of his mouth. Shaking his head, his eyes are filled with wonder as if looking up at a star splattered night sky. He looks so youthful to you at that moment, de-aged ten years for a split second. “I haven’t had sex that great in- Fuck . I don’t know if I’ve ever had sex that great, and I thought I was having great sex pretty regularly. You’ve single handedly and irrevocably changed my life tonight. I hope you know that.”

You’re also looking up at the ceiling, deep breaths causing your breasts to rise and fall. What Harry just said is so true that it almost hurts to realize it. Things have changed, feeling suddenly like so much more than the one night stand you’d been anticipating. It doesn’t seem like the high endorphins is making you think this way, though. You’re well aware of what that feels like. Something about this night with Harry Castillo feels real. More real than anything you’ve ever felt with another. “Same goes for you, handsome. Ruined all other men for me in a single night together. It’s practically criminal.”

As you look over at Harry, his hair mussed and face flushed, a blush creeps into your cheeks at the notion that the wetness you feel running down you is actually him . Allowing him to finish inside was a genuinely new experience for you, and the thrill if it is so unlike what you were expecting. If anything you assumed it was going to feel gross. Cum always equalled babies in your book, so you never thought it would ever feel this amazing to know some of it is buried deep inside you and the rest of it is dripping onto the bed below. To know it’s the cum of this man in particular? That adds an extra layer to the feeling. 

It felt so different to embrace your lover in the heat of his orgasm, being so used to the empty, cold sensation of a pull-out and the inevitable warm spray to some other part of your body. There’s always been this sudden disconnect right before the moment of a man’s climax, but with Harry you got to ride it out with him, completely connected all the way up until the end. Connected in a way you never have been before, not even with a female partner. The notion of this stirs something deep within you, and your heart swells for the man placing kisses to your shoulder while he’s catching his breath. 

The most satisfying peacefulness washes over you as you tell him, “I’ve never let anyone cum inside me before.”

His brown eyes darken slightly, and Harry looks both surprised and a little pleased with himself. “Really?”

“Really,” you’re grinning, “I don’t want kids, so that shit was always very off limits. I’m not sure how to explain it in a way that you would understand, but that was very special for me. Thank you, Harry.” 

He leans over, grinning like a madman before kissing you passionately. “It was an honor to fill you up, sweetheart. I’d do that every single day if you’d let me.” 

*****

You and Harry ended up spending the entire weekend together against your better judgement. The longer time you spent in his company, the more the stupid fucking lie was hanging over your head. But your weekend with Harry proved to be downright magical, and the more the two of you got to know each other, the less easy it started to feel to come clean. You thought about doing it so many times, and each time your anxiety would stop you. What if he truly hates you after he learns the truth? He might not, you never know. But even after so many long talks and lovely sex and shared laughter, the truth is inevitably going to change the way he looks at you. The very thought of that sends your nervous system into an overload, and strikes a deep crack through your already straining heart.

Harry Castillo makes you feel the way the romantic novels that you most certainly do not write make you feel, and your greedy ass wasn’t about to go and fuck up what was turning out to be the best seventy-two hours of your life thus far. Morally gray as it may be, Harry could know the truth after your beautiful weekend together. You felt that you deserved at least that before you light the fuse that will blow this situation to hell whether you want it to or not. 

It’s as if you’re using your budding feelings for Harry to bargain with yourself for victory, but either way you’re liable to lose and deep down you know that.

The charity concert was on a Friday, so when the two of you woke up late into the morning on Saturday, Harry asked you if you wanted to stay for a while. He’d already taken the liberty of having his assistant drive over with a few different outfit options for you, and one swimsuit. All correct sizes, and all something you would have picked out for yourself, which gained Harry even more points in your book.  

‘A while’ started with french pressed coffee and a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs and avocado toast, all made by Harry himself. Then ‘a while’ progressed into having sex again, this time on the living room couch, then once more on top of his washing machine after he’d started a load of laundry. You’d joked about how you could use another load too, and Harry ran with it. He ate his own cum out you while the machine whirled to life under your body, just before filling you up with even more of him. 

After that, the two of you went down to the lavish pool in Harry’s building. An over the top extravagant amenity with a gorgeous view of the city, and probably the nicest pool you’ve ever had the pleasure of swimming in. Once the two of you started to horseplay, however, things very quickly took a turn for the sexual once again. Harry’s finger had slipped inside of your tastefully high-waisted bathing suit under the water, and when his hidden erection pressed up against your bare leg, the pool was a thing of the past. 

That time he fucked you in his shower, bent over at the waist as hot water cascaded around your already enflamed body. When you begged him to take your ass in lue of your pussy, the man in question had moaned into your shoulder, “you’re a dream come true, sweetheart,” and he delivered what you asked for beautifully.

His assistant also brought you a small handful of basic beauty products to choose from. As you were later lathering on a serum nicer than any brand you’ve ever bought, even with your recently raised standards, it dawned on you that Harry probably spent at least five or six hundred dollars, if not more, on all of these things for you. That kind of casual spending, on you no less, made your head spin a little. 

You may pamper yourself all the time, but it’s wildly different when a man like Harry Castillo is the one doing the pampering.

In the evening Harry ordered takeout from his favorite place in Chinatown, and given that the both of you didn’t have a single bodily fluid left to give, the night was filled with conversation, snuggles, and soft touches. He let you pick out a movie, and the two of you fell asleep spooning on his couch (also ginormous, by the way) halfway through Bram Stoker’s Dracula from 1993.

On Sunday, after breakfast and one more go around in the oversized bed, Harry took you to the Central Park Zoo. His almost boyish energy around all of the animals was so endearing to you, especially when he lit up for you around the bats. Given that the winged animals played an integral role in the events which led to your dalliance with Harry, he felt the need to commemorate the weekend by purchasing you a stuffed one from the gift shop. You never even saw him go for the register, preoccupied by a rack of silly t-shirts. So when he presented it to you upon exiting, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and kissed him right there in the middle of central park. All the while your mind was screaming at you to tell him the truth, but you listened to your body instead. 

From there he took you to a ridiculously nice Italian restaurant, where he confessed to you over pasta that he’s never been in love and he’s scared that he never will be. That confession had shocked you, even more so when he quickly followed it up with a warning that if you said yes to what he was about to ask, then you were taking on the risk that he’s incapable of the feeling all together. The notion of him being incapable seemed silly, considering how affectionate he’d been with you thus far, but you kept that thought to yourself. 

Then Harry reached across the table, and the next confession came pouring out of him. He told you that he wanted to try and feel love, and he felt something with you that he honestly hadn’t before. Not love, not when you barely know each other, but that spark that they talk about in the movies. One little spark, but enough to grab his attention and hold it fast. 

After making your head spin with his honesty, he proceeded to say that the last couple of days truly meant a lot to him and, with the deepest sincerity in his chocolate eyes, Harry Castillo asked if you would let him see you again. Seriously, and exclusively. 

Your answer was the easiest one to give in the world, and yet instead of shining bright like the sun as it should have been, your heart suddenly felt much more like the moon hanging ominously over the city. While the front facing side of your heart swelled a bright, glorious red for the possibility of a relationship with this man, the side cast in shadow was already starting to shrivel and turn gray with guilt. 

*****

As you finish frantically pacing the floor and vividly telling a couch faring Vanessa everything about your weekend with Harry, sparing her the gorier sexual details, your stomach lurches and your heart sinks. While you’ve been wildly wrapping up the story, a great, ugly scowl has been slowly encompassing her normally beautiful features. There’s no hiding from your best friend, that’s just a fact. 

“Listen, I know what you’re going to say,” you try to diffuse, hands up.

“Listen my ass ,” she says your name sharply, stabbing you right where she wants to. 

You wince .

“I’m glad that got your attention, bitch.” With that, Vanessa pats the cushion beside her. “Sit down, your energy is stressing me the fuck out .”

“Sorry,” you say, complying.

“We are both grown-ups here, so I’m going to speak plainly.” Vanessa bores into you with her dark eyes, making your throat seize up. “You know what you need to do, or you’re going to fuck up what is potentially the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“I know,” you breathe, frowning. “I’m going to have to finish one of my novels and get it published."

Vanessa groans ferociously, hands clawing over her face. Then she whacks you in the head with a pink throw pillow. “No, you stupid slut! Tell him the fucking truth! If you let this go on too long the damage will be too severe to repair.”

“Yeah, I know that,” you say, hanging your head. You’re going to have to hit the bong several times in order to sleep tonight, the horrid pit in your stomach will make sure of that. “Fuck, Van. I really am stupid aren’t I?”

“You are. But I love you, and maybe if you handle this situation correctly then Daddy Warbucks will love you too,” she says, grinning a little as she uses the silly nickname. You can already tell she’s going to drive that into the grave with over-use. 

Her change in mood warms you, and the anxiety melts away a little. Feeling more like yourself, you send her one of your signature, Vanessa exclusive eyerolls. “Are we really going to call him that?”

“If you’re really going to date him I am,” Vanessa giggles. 

“What if he really can’t feel love, Van?” You ask her, frowning. 

Vanessa shrugs. “If that’s even a real thing. Sounds to me like he just hasn’t been in real love yet, not that he simply can’t feel it. But if it is true, then at least he was an interesting chapter of your life and a good lay. Date him for a few weeks before you worry about that, anyway. What if you’re the one who doesn’t end up loving him?”

As she says this, your phone buzzes against the coffee table. Reaching over to grab it, your eyes bulge a little at the name associated with the text notification. He just dropped you off a few hours ago, surely you’d assumed it would be a few days before you heard from him again. But here he is, making your heart flutter from the other side of the city. 

Harry Castillo: Two nights with you beside me and I’m spoiled rotten. You were right. This bed is ginormous. Sleep well, sweetheart. 

“I think he’s going to make not loving him incredibly difficult, Vanessa.”

*****

Monday morning Harry’s seated in his office doing the complete opposite of working. He’s on his phone, which makes him a hypocrite considering he recently instructed the management team to start cracking down on that with the associate employees. 

He simply can’t help it. You’re literally all he can think about, to the point that he’s a little worried that something is wrong with him. You’d responded to his text last night, but you haven’t said anything to him since and he’s fixating on whether or not it’s appropriate to text you again so soon if you haven’t texted him first.

Fucking cellphones, Harry thinks bitterly, chiding himself for behaving like a teenager as he sits the phone face down on the glass top protecting his cherry desk. He looks at his computer, opens an email, reads the first three words of the subject line, and then he’s picking up his phone again to check it despite the fact that he knows it hasn't gone off.

Nothing. He groans, feeling like an idiot as he reaches for a sip of coffee. He doesn’t put the phone back down, though, instead he pulls up his camera roll and the couple of photos of you he snuck over the weekend. 

The first is of you, in nothing but one of his black t-shirts and a lacy black thong, your back mostly to the camera as you sip on a mug of creamy coffee. You’re looking contently at the view from Harry’s kitchen window, sunlight streaming all over you. He loves your profile in that one, and the way the light accentuates your features. 

The next is a photo of your naked silhouette in the frosted glass of his shower. 

The third photo is of you at the zoo, happily captivated by the animals and paying no mind to the fact that Harry just had to capture how beautiful and carefree you looked in that moment. 

He’s never taken candid photos of a lover before, nor has he obsessed over receiving a text from one. He certainly never paid this much mind to when Lucy would or would not contact him, and he’d been prepared to marry the woman for Christ’s sake. 

Harry also never once called Lucy ‘sweetheart.’ Or any pet names, now that he thinks about it. Never a ‘baby,’ or a ‘honey.’ Not once. He would always greet her with a simple, somewhat awkward ‘hey you’, and he mostly just called her by her name. 

You come into his life and suddenly he’s throwing around the term of endearment like his life depends on it, and somehow not hearing from you yet is driving him mad with anxious energy. Harry Castillo is a man who is very rarely anxious. 

What is wrong with him? 

There were a lot of people at the charity event, and at the zoo. Maybe he’s coming down with something. Yes, surely he’s getting sick and that’s why his head’s not on straight.

Then the phone vibrates in his hands, and your name flashes just above the image of your grinning face. His heart leaps from his chest, breath hitching. He taps it before it can swoosh away with the rest of his notifications, and a feeling of calm washes over him as he reads the message.

You: Missing your avocado toast this morning. :(

It shows that you’re typing, and then a second message pops up. This one is a photo, however. In it, you’re wearing a black graphic t-shirt advertising what he’s certain is the band Type-O Negative . Your hair looks insane, adorably so, and you’re pouting cutely over a sad looking cup of yogurt.

Harry’s got half a mind to cancel his meeting and take you out for brunch, but before he can even think of a response to text you back with, his younger brother is barging into his office without knocking. He’s the only person besides their mother who can get away with that .

“What, Peter? I’m busy,” Harry says, not looking up from his phone. 

“You don’t seem very busy to me. Is that her you’re texting?” His brother’s voice is saying. 

Harry looks up sharply, glaring. Words aren’t necessary.

Peter grins, plopping himself into the chair across from Harry’s desk. He takes a long sip of his own black coffee, eyeing Harry the entire time. “I originally came in here to complain that I missed the surprise Bad Bunny show, which I’m very upset about. Charlotte being pregnant is ruining all my fun, but don’t you dare tell her I said that. Anyway, then I heard a rumor that you found yourself a new woman at the show, and that the two of you got to know each other very well on the dance floor. I just had to come hear all about it.”

Harry’s eyes narrow even more at his annoyance of a sibling. He loves him, but he could also strangle him at any given moment. “Get out of my office, Peter. I need to prep for the meeting at eleven.”

“Yeah cause you were doing that so dutifully before I walked in,” Peter laughs, taking another generous sip. “So is that her you’re texting, then? What’s she look like?”

Harry groans, “Yes, it’s her.” Then his eyes flick back down to the open text thread, and when they land on the adorable photo of you with your pathetic yogurt, the joyful little smile which creeps onto his lips simply can’t be helped. 

Peter’s jaw drops, “ Oh . Oh fuck , Harry. This is a wild development. I wasn’t expecting this today.”

Harry’s gaze moves back to his brother, eyebrow raising at the look on his face. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

Peter’s sharp laugh is one of disbelief. “She’s the one, man! I’m calling it. You’ve never looked like this before. Not once in my entire life have I seen that fucking look on your face. It’s the only explanation!”

“Bullshit, Peter,” Harry scoffs, looking away but not back down at your image. He has to consciously make himself not, knowing Peter would notice and use the impulse against him. “You know my opinion on that.”

“Whatever, big brother. Suit yourself. As the one of us who has fallen in love, I think I know what I’m talking about. But I’ll let you figure that shit out for yourself. Wait until Charlotte finds out, she’s going to go nuts.” As he says this, Peter is already getting up to leave. “See you in the conference room. Please actually prep for this though. I need you out there. Text her back and then think about her later. Trust me, it gets easier the more you get used to it. Love is fucking weird, man.”

“I am not in love with her,” Harry argues, shaking his head. If anything, what he’s feeling is infatuation more than anything else, right? 

“Keep telling yourself that, bro. And for the love of Christ, get your shit together for this meeting.” And with that, Peter is gone as quickly as he came. 

Harry looks around his large office, at his view of the city below, and wonders if there’s any validity to what his brother just said. Another vibration goes off in his hand, and the excitement he feels is like a jolt of caffeine straight to his heart. 

Only, it’s just his calendar reminder letting him know that his next meeting is in fifteen minutes. The deep disappointment he feels leads him to conclude that Peter doesn’t need to get Harry’s hopes up like that, but there’s a nonzero chance that his baby brother actually knows what he’s talking about for once.

*****

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Taglist: @cheyxfu @notahappystan

[flowersforbucky]

begging for more joaquin fics pretty please, your writing is AMAZING, im in the middle of finals rn and it would heal me😩

hiiii!! i know this wasn't a formal request, and i plan to write something longer for joaquín soon, but here's a little blurb to hold you over until then! best of luck on your finals ✨️🫶🏻

reader is an adult/in college, not explicit but mdni, joaquín calls reader princesa, 432 words

“Baby,” Joaquín's voice startles you, causing you to lose your place on the page you'd been reading. Well, trying to read. After hours of near nonstop studying, all of the words on the page had started to blur together. You aren’t even sure how many times you’ve attempted to re-read the same paragraph at this point.

“You’ve gotta take a break. Get some fresh air, stretch your legs, eat something…”

He stands behind your desk chair, placing his hands on your shoulders. You look up at him as he massages his strong hands over the tops of your arms. He looks down at you with big, brown puppy dog eyes and you’re immediately flooded with guilt – you know you’ve barely paid any attention to him today, and you hate it as much as he does.

“I can’t,” you groan, closing your eyes at the sensation of his hands on your stiff muscles. “Not yet. I need to get through the rest of this chapter, and then three more after that before I can even think about taking a brea—”

He removes his hands, spinning your chair around to face him. Before you can protest, he drops to his knees in front of you.

“Nonsense,” he objects. He spreads your thighs ever so slightly, wedging himself between your legs. He rests his elbows on your thighs, propping his head in his hands. “You’ve been preparing for these finals for weeks, baby. You know this shit like the back of your hand. Burning yourself out the day before your test isn’t going to do you any good.”

You sigh, knowing that he has a point. You lean forward, running your fingers through his hair before pressing your lips to his forehead.

“I’m just nervous. And ready for this to be over. I miss you.”

He laughs. “Well, I'm right here. Why don’t we go get some food? When we get back home, I’ll help you finish up this chapter.”

Your stomach has been growling for the last hour. You suppose taking a break for some much needed food and much needed time with your boyfriend isn’t a totally bad idea.

He's too cute to say no to.

“Okay. But I get to pick where we eat.”

He breaks into a toothy grin that immediately boosts your mood tenfold. He stands, hoisting you up with him. With his arms now wrapped around you, he pulls you flush against him before slating his lips over yours. There’s a faint hint of his favorite energy drink on his lips; fruity and familiar.

“Anything you want, princesa.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

i don't do super short drabbles very often but this ask planted a tiny little idea in my head so 🤗

[barabaraoranges]

circuitbreaker

pairing: stone top!trans!m!reader/bottom!trans!m!volt

reader anatomy is not described. chest area is referred to as chest. reader is described as wearing thick denim jeans, a white tank, and leather gloves. volt has had top surgery and bottom surgery (phalloplasty). reader and volt's anatomy are both referred to as "dick/cock"and "hole".

contains: anal sex (volt receiving), anal fingering (volt receiving), oral (volt receiving), overstim (volt receiving), clothed sex (reader remains clothed), minor glove kink (really not a strong focus), rough sex, reader does not orgasm, spoilers for volt's hate route appearance, takes place following the end of volt & eddie's route

author's note: don't leave notes in the tags about "getting volt pregnant" or make mpreg jokes or talk about breeding volt. that's some real weird shit to leave in the tags about a trans man bottoming, and a real quick way for you to get blocked. also this was purely written with my dick. also first time writing full blown smut in a hot second.

wc: 4.4k

ao3

The bar was empty, after hours of the main event. Eddie was standing behind the bartop, cleaning the glasses. Volt was sat in a bar chair, his upper body leaned back on the bar top and his legs spread shamelessly open. You were straddled on his crotch, your chest pressed against his, fingers running along his hairline. Most nights you were more well-dressed, but tonight it was a simple white tank top and denim jeans.

Not that it mattered, Volt was still on top of you the minute you walked. Flirting, teasing, somehow even louder than before. It was all shameless now, all out in the open. The entire house knew it at this point, either from word of mouth or…

Or from the shameless, full body flirting that happened at the bar after hours. You'd been sat with him for a good fifteen minutes, teasing his hairline, murmuring sweet nothings to him. Everything had been going well until his hand crept to your ass unexpectedly, a teasing thumb hooking into your jean's belt loop.

Your body tensed, shoulders tightened.

"I, uh, stone top," you explained. "Don't get your hopes up."

No questions asked, he removed his hands from your body. He wrapped his arms on your neck, loosely holding his hands behind your head. His eyes soft and reassuring, if not a bit heavy lidded.

… You also couldn't help but notice his hair excitedly sparking at the confession.

"You lead, and I will follow," he responded, his breath making the air tingle, "I am here to please, live wire, you don't ever need to worry."

The tension released from your body, and your shoulders relaxed. You rested his forehead against his.

"Oh, thank god you're fine with it," you sighed. "I never know how people will respond to that."

He hummed quietly, pressing his forehead harder into yours. The tingling air became more evident as sparks danced on your lips.

"People? Judging you?" he cooed, lips barely grazing yours. "I think they just don't want a good thing to happen to them. Now, tell me, what do you want from me? I am always so eager to please, and it's been a while since…"

The lights flickered, and you heard Eddie sigh heavily.

"... I've received anything. And I would happily beg on my hands and knees for it to be from you."

Volt's ears and cheeks darkened, his eyelids now heavy as he stared up at you. The air around you tingled from anticipation, his loose hands now tight together. His heart fluttered and pounded against your chest, shockwaves of tingling static rolling on your exposed skin with each beat. The lights seemed to dim around you, and you heard Eddie grumble something under his breath.

You pulled your head back, your eyes narrowed.

"Wait, are the random shorts—"

"From him bottoming?" Eddie chimed in. "Yep."

He had been silent the entire conversation, cleaning a single glass. With how much he had been cleaning it, you'd expected it to be worn down to a nub.

"W-we don't need to talk about specifics," Volt stammered out after a moment, glaring at his counterpart. "It's just… The nature of electricity. It may, may not, cause shortages."

"It does cause shortages," Eddie retorted dryly.

Ever since the dateviators came into your life, you'd had more than a few experiences with the objects in your house. Shameless flirting and mirror sex with Barry, ass eating and frotting with Dunk, that one night with Benwha and Betty with the toys stashed away in your attic. But all of them had been, well, relatively normal comparatively. None of them were electric, you could use the same lube and toys you'd use for humans.

But Volt…. Well, just the mention of you being a stone top had his hair sparking and his breath tingling. And if him bottoming was enough to cause shortages.

What precautions did you have to take?

"Eddie, uh—" you stuttered for a moment, stumbling for words.

"The lube is over here," he interrupted, searching for something underneath him. "We had an agreement that he wouldn't bottom until we got shit fixed—"

"Eddie."

"—and with the repair, you shouldn't have to worry about short-circuits. At least, well," He paused for a moment, looking off into the distance and biting his lip. "… Don't go too crazy, okay? Wear cotton clothes, whatever you were wearing when you helped me with repairs should work."

He turned to look directly at you, a stern look on his face.

"I don't want you getting hurt. I don't know how us fucking around with humans works."

Chewing your bottom lip, you thought back on your relationship with the two. The revelation, the news about how unstable the electricity had been for a while. The desperate measures Eddie had had to take, how exhausted he had been until the fix. Instinctively, you climbed off of Volt's lap, slipped out from his arms, and walked over to his counterpart.

"Okay, but seriously, like," you whispered, leaning over the bar top, "are you going to be okay? It's not gonna cause like, pain or anything, right?"

Eddie rolled his eyes and chuckled dryly.

"You know, I just still don't know how you managed to get both of us," he teased, leaning in closer to you. "You're so disgustingly sweet and nice."

He leaned in, softly kissing your lips. You returned it, a small smile on your lips as his stubble tickled your chin.

"I trust you," he murmured softly. "I trust you won't be an idiot, and you'll take care of him. I can handle things over here if it gets too crazy."

The lights flickered briefly. Sighing heavily, Eddie passed the bottle of lube to you.

"But I do think he will blow a circuit if you take too long with me," he chuckled, jerking his head to the direction of the door.

It hadn't even occurred to you that Volt hadn't joined you. Looking over your shoulder, you noticed his jacket at his previously occupied chair, and its owner standing at the door to the club, his arms crossed across his chest. An impatient air rolled off of him, and you found yourself a bundle of nerves and eagerness.

Eddie patted you on the shoulder.

"Good luck, have fun, be safe," he stated while stepping away, gesturing for you to leave. "Come back tomorrow morning when you two are done, m'kay?"

Not wanting him to wait for much longer, you pocketed the lube and quickly made your wayt to the exit. Volt fumbled with the closed sign as the two of you stepped out of the bar, his arm wrapped around your waist. He held onto you tight, tighter than usual. There was an intensity to him, one you weren't used to, as he walked you to your bedroom.

"What did Eddie say?" he asked, opening your bedroom door.

"He trusts us," you answered honestly. "He trusts us and said, I quote, 'Good luck, have fun, be safe.' And he wants us to check in tomorrow morning."

"Good."

His voice was husky, deeper than normal. He shifted his hands to your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. You felt his breath on your ear.

"Because I need you to fuck me senseless, live wire. I need you to make me worship you, never make me want to get fucked by anyone ever again. I want it to be you in my dreams that make me call out, that make me so desperate to fuck my hand. It's been far, far too long for me."

Your heart pulsed in your ears, your breath hitched as he continued to speak. Something was trapped in your chest, desperate to escape.

"Can you… Can you do that for me, live wire?" he asked, voice even lower. "Can you make me worship your name?"

You escaped from his grasp, stumbling forward, breathless. Rather violenly, you pulled open the closet door.

You made a mental note to apologize to Dorian tomorrow.

"G-Go strip down on the bed," you stumbled out, fumbling in your closet for your harness and strap. "A-And, uh, lay down."

There was a faint chuckle as he obediently did as you told. From the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Like he knew you couldn't stop yourself from watching him. Long, graceful fingers unbuttoned and pulled back his shirt, revealing his scarred chest and abdomen. A soft, lean body, with a generous white happy trail sitting just above his beltline.

For a moment, you thought you saw something ripple under his skin, but dismissed it as lighting. You went back to struggling to get your leather harness and strap on when you noticed a pair of leather gloves sitting in the back. Furrowing your eyebrows, you asked yourself if leather was conductive or not. You shook your head, grabbing them anyway.

Better something than nothing.

"Live wire, here, let me help with that."

Volt gestured for you to step towards the bed, having watched you fumble with your harness for embarassingly long. Heat burning at your cheeks, you happily did so as you slipped the gloves on. His deft fingers made quick work what you struggled with just moments before, gently tightening the straps.

"Eager, now are we?"

It was a teasing voice but really, it seemed he was hiding how desperate he was. He looked up at you through heavy lidded eyes, filled with lust and absolute desire for you as he finished.

"How many times have you dreamed about this?" he asked, pulling himself back towards the pillows.

Crawling on top of him, you didn't respond. Just ran your gloved hand through his hair and kissed him. A soft moan escaped his lips as he fully laid back, hands reaching to grab the headboard to steady himself. Your cock pressed against his own clothed cock, his legs spread to your. Your chest pressed against his, turning his head to kiss him deeper.

The tang of a whiskey sour lingered in his mouth. And the tingling sensation of electricity.

It wasn't long before he used his own hand to push you down, to get you going. You settled on his throat, biting the sensitive skin teasingly.

"Eager, now are we?" you teased, parroting his earlier words as you moved down to his torso.

He ignored your teasing as you kissed down his body, savoring him. Your gloved hands ran down his sides, his skin twitching beneath you. Or maybe it was pulsing with electricity, you couldn't quite tell with the static hitting your gloves. His chest heaved as you savored him, his back arched as your hands ran down his sides. Part of you wanted to stay for a moment, to keep with this torment, see how long it would have taken for him to whine and beg for it.

But you decided to be kind this time. Maybe next time. Your lips tingled as you kissed down his happy trail, pulling his pants down and tossing them to the side. Precum stained his boxers, a small circle pooling at his tip. You sucked the tip through his boxers, waiting for a quiet please before slipping his boxers off and discarding them.

Of course his cock was beautiful, just like everything else about him. You groaned at the sight of it, mouth watering.

You kissed the tip of his cock, lapping up the small pearl of precum. He moaned, pushing you down lower. Eager was an understatement, you realized as you trailed down his underside, lapping at the base of his shaft. Desperate and impatient were better words. Tilting your head sideways, you wrapped your lips around him, tongue teasing the sensitive skin. He twitched in your mouth, a pleased hum escaping your mouth.

"Fuck," he moaned, thighs tensing. "Right there."

Humming, you kissed the spot before replacing your mouth with your fingers, and lapped his taint before wrapping your lips around a ball. Another moan as his cock twitched and hardened in your hands, your thumb massaging his base as you sucked and moaned. With each suck, his cock got hardened, more precum dribbling down your fingers.

You pulled away from his balls, turning your attention back to his cock. Teasingly trailing your tongue up, you lapped up whatever drops you could. Settling back on his head, your eyes widened at the sight of him.

Volt's forearm was rested over his eyes, his chest already heaving from just the teasing. There was a faint blue developing in his chest area, pulsing with each heartbeat. Electricity rippled off his body, and it was then you noticed just how static-filled the air was.

"…. Volt, be honest," you asked quietly, "how long has it been since you bottomed?"

A moment passed as he caught his breath. The blue started to fade.

"Two years."

Two years. You reached for the lube and popped it open with one hand.

"Fucking shit," you groaned, pouring a generous amount on your gloved fingers before closing the bottle and tossing it aside. "I'm gonna take it slow, okay? You tell me what you need."

Your thumb teased his hole, running circles around his rim. A moan as you dipped in, testing his response. Turning your attention back to his dick, you wrapped your lips around his head, swirling your tongue before swallowing him down deeper. You replaced your gloved thumb with two fingers, shallowly thrusting as your thumb pressed against his taint. A choked moan erupted from Volt, his chest turning back to that blue color again.

You ignored it though, swallowing down his cock deeper and deeper. Your nose hit his pubes, the electricity tickling the tip and forcing you to back off. Lapping at his base, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Scissoring and curling your fingers in, his thighs tensed around your head.

As he got closer and closer, his dick twitched more in your mouth. And so did the electricity. You pulled yourself off of him, spitting on his head before moving back to the base of his shaft. Hand wrapped around his cock, you pumped up and down, focusing on his head. Your lips wrapped back around his base, moaning as he twitched against your tongue. Fingers curling up into that sensitive spot, that one spot that made him buck up into you. You could feel your own cock twitch in anticipation, with the temptation to edge him until you fucked him senseless filling your thoughts.

But not tonight. Maybe when you'd had a better discussion about boundaries.

"Live wire, I-I-"

Volt stuttered as his back arched off of the bed, the lights flickering as he hit his high, his hole twitching and sucking on your fingers. Sparks erupted from his hair, and you pulled back and out to avoid getting shocked. Blue started spreading from his chest towards his throat and abdomen, pulsing with him heartbeat. You watched and admired for a minute as he came down from his high.

"That's fucking hot," you mused out loud, lining the head of your cock up with his hole. "Wonder if I can get all of you blue."

He laughed breathily, regaining his composure.

"Eddie would kill us if that happened," he responded, out of breath. "And I don't think Betty would appreciate it."

You pushed the head of your cock into his hole, earning a soft groan. His hips rolled forward to meet your testing thrust, arching his back off the bed. He wrapped his hands back on the headboard, his thighs tensing back up again.

"You're so big," he moaned, gripping the headboard tighter.

Immediately, you reached for more lube, slathering the rest of your cock with more. Two years, you reminded yourself. Don't fucking need him to die on my dick. You slowed your pace, bottoming out as you let him adjust. His head rolled back on the pillow, his hair starting to spark again as you started your pace. Slow, testing, watching. Volt bit his bottom lip as you thrusted into him, one hand stroking his cock and the other holding his waist.

After a minute of this slow pace, he seemed unpleased. Uninterested. One hand snapped out to grab your wrist, electricity rolling off his copper coils. Your hand tingled and you almost pulled back, snapping at him.

But then you looked up. The look on his face was feral, a harsh glare you'd never seen before. You shuddered under his gaze, feeling his grip tighten on your wrist.

"Harder, live wire," he demanded through gritted teeth. "Fuck me harder. I need you."

His demand was somewhere between a growl, a snarl, and a plea. Desperation tinged his voice, his sharpened teeth gleaming under the lamplight. In that moment, you reacted without thought. Your hand on his cock found his waist, digging your gloved hands into his sides. You pulled back all the way out and snapped your hips back into him, bottoming out in a single movement.

He cried out, the lights flickering for a brief moment as you picked up your pace. His hand returned to the headboard, gripping harder. For a moment, you swore you heard a cracking noise. Your gloved hands dug into his waist. Goosebumps formed on your skin, the air crackling with sparks and electricity.

His moans and cries became garbled. You could barely make out your name between desperate pleas for you to go harder and harder, to keep up brutal pace. His hair sparked wildly, dancing onto the bedding. I'll need to apologize to Betty, you idly thought as one hand went to his cock. All the while, blue spread from his chest to his body. Your thighs burned even under your thick jeans, your entire body tingled. White pulsed throughout his body, rapid and heavy.

Eddie would kill us if that happened, Volt's words raced through your head. And yet, you couldn't find it in yourself to stop. Not with the way he was begging for more, to keep going. His cock twitched and throbbed, begging for release. You took a hand off his waist and stroked the shaft, massaging his base.

A cry out as his fingertips turned blue. His eyes flickered a brilliant light, and you noticed the lights started to flash.

"L-live, livewire, I-I-I-"

The lights cut out. And did not turn back on. The dark room smelled like ozone and smoke. For a moment, you worried that you'd set the smoke detector off and get a lecture from Arma. That thought fluttered away as you looked down in front of you.

In the darkness, Volt, lying on your bed, bright blue, his eyes screwed shut. His hand rested on his forehead, his other weakly grasping the headboard. You watched and admired as sparks flew off his hair, quickly dying in the cotton pillows. White shot throughout his body, pulsing with rapid heartbeat, each breath. His chest heaved, scars radiating the same bright white light. Scorch marks littered the bedding around him, and you noticed the same with your jeans where his legs had touched.

His eyes fluttered open as you pulled out, heavy lidded as he stared up at you. Needing, wanton. Lips parted as he breathed heavy, small sparks escaping with each exhale.

Heavenly, simply put. Pure bliss, pure beauty, pure heaven. You wanted to watch forever, to keep fucking him and never letting him down from his high.

That thought was quickly squashed with the lecture you knew you'd get from Eddie. Or the consequences it would have on your actual breaker box.

"Volt, Volt," you whispered, brushing your thumb across his hairline. "Hey, hey… Come back to me, come back to me."

You pulled yourself closer to him, his legs resting on your thighs. Even through the gloves, his sparks stung your fingertips. Maybe Eddie was right, maybe you shouldn't have gotten carried away. Maybe you should have shown some restraint, not pushed him over the edge.

But his fucked out face, his parted lips, his heaving chest, his heavy lidded gaze. You could deal with Eddie's complaints.

Volt grabbed your soothing hand, pressing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes again, pressing his lips against your gloved palm. Slowly, you watched his color come back. Blue skin turned slowly back to pale. His spark filled hair tamed itself, shrinking back to normal levels. His eyes opened back up, glazed and barely focused as he looked up at you.

"Live wire." His voice husky, rough. Smoke after a small spark. "That was… That…"

The lights flickered back on.

"… Eddie is going to kill us."

You chuckled softly, leaning over him.

"Well, at least I can die saying I saw that fucked out face of yours."

He laughed. Soft, exhausted. And his pale hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you to his face. Your lips tingled briefly as they touched his, moaning softly. You tilted your head, slotting your lips more fully against his. A gentle, teasing nibble on your bottom lip, and Volt slipped his tongue through your lips.

A spark hit the roof of your mouth, and you instinctively pulled back. Worry and guilt fell on his face.

"Sorry, sorry, forgot you weren't…" His voice quieted, gaze soft.

Humming, you pressed your lips against his neck.

"Focus on yourself," you mumbled, removing your hand from his. "Don't worry about it, Volt."

He sighed contently, relaxing under your touch and the soft neck kisses. Your chest pressed against his, calming his breathing, bringing him down from his high. An arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb running up and down your side.

"I'd usually offer a bath to the guys I fuck but," you chuckled a bit. "I don't think that will work for you."

He laughed. Hoarse, but he laughed. And his other arm found your waist, tightening his grip around you. His lips pressed against your forehead, murmuring something under his breath that you didn't quite catch.

"I'll make it up to Betty," he murmured softly. "Just. Let me hold you tonight. And I'll deal with Eddie tomorrow morning."

Bonus

"Your pants are burnt." It was the first remark out of Eddie's mouth. "I can see the harness outline. What the fuck did you do?"

And so the scolding began, the minute you stepped back into the bar. Volt had been fairly quiet the walk back, avoiding eye contact. The roof of your mouth ached and stung, a blister forming where the spark had hit you. And the tips of your fingers were still numb, tingling every once in a while.

Thankfully, the bar hadn't yet opened up for the day. The scolding could go unseen, unheard, a private moment between the three of you. The two of you settled at the bar across from Eddie. Volt, still avoiding eye contact, sat with his feet crossed in the chair, lips pursed as he clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs.

You, on the other hand, felt a certain confidence and boldness from making the entire house short circuit. A certain warm pride and arrogance had taken shelter in your chest.

"I mean," you started, leaning back in your chair, "my dick's plastic, so it's not like there's any harm there. And the harness is synthetic leather, so..."

Eddie paused, taking a deep breath. He rested in elbows on the bar top, rubbing his hands against his face.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Eddie, we don't have to—" Volt started, finally turning his head to face him.

"I'm going to hop over this bar—" Eddie pressed a finger against the bar, "—and strangle you."

"That's hot," you mused dryly.

"Okay, okay. Live wire, how about we just apologize?" Volt shifted his body in his chair, trying to put himself between you and Eddie. "Apologize and move on. Admit it was reckless, and it won't happen again. More importantly, Eddie, how are you feeling?"

Eddie pushed himself off the bar, folding his arm against his chest. "That won't work, and you're just trying to change the subject, Volt."

"And why won't it work, Eddie?" Volt turned to look at Eddie over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you really feel bad, Volt?"

Silence. Volt scrunched his nose and turned away, ears darkening.

"… I don't think there will be shorts for a while, at least."

"Oh my god," Eddie groaned, putting his head in his hands again.

More silence as the dark haired man ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head. After a moment, he reached out a hand towards you.

"Show me your hands," he demanded gruffly.

You scoffed, briefly flashing them.

"They're fine, Eddie," you retorted, attempting to avoid further scolding. "You don't need—"

He grabbed your hands out of the air, prying them apart. You sighed, waiting for the scolding.

Instead, you were greeted with his softness. His calloused fingers tracing over your sensitive tips, noting the flinch and wince as he passed over them. Shaking his head, he looked back up at you, concern washing over his face.

"You need to be careful," his voice softened as he lectured. "I… We don't want you to get hurt, okay? There's only so much that gloves can do for humans."

You shifted awkwardly in your seat, turning your head to look at Volt. He, on the other hand, had somehow hopped over the bar and was making himself a drink to avoid further conversation.

"Where else?"

"That's it," you lied.

"Bullshit," he mumbled under his breath. "Your pants are burned and a shortage like that only happens when Volt blows."

Your desperate attempts to make eye contact with Volt were ignored, once again. His lips were pursed as he kept his mouth shut.

"… Thighs."

Eddie sighed, hanging and shaking his head.

"… Listen, next time you fuck, let me be there." He continued running his thumbs over your palms. "I can… I can control him, in a way."

Your ears perked up at that statement, snapping your attention back to Eddie. He looked up at you, unimpressed.

"You're not fucking until your thighs and hands are healed."

"Eddie," you whined. "I'm fine. Volt's fine. See!"

As you turned to look at him, you saw Volt's cheeks had darkened a whole few shades at the mention of Eddie's controlling. He kept his mouth shut, ignoring the conversation while nursing his drink.

"Okay, but in the meantime," you dropped your voice and turned back to Eddie. "Tell me about the whole controlling thing."

[ginerotica]

⋆｡˚⋆୨୧˚⋆ joost klein x f!reader⋆˚୨୧˚⋆｡˚⋆

summary: you and joost are a couple for almost a year now. one day you decided to surprise him by buying him clothes and putting make up on him.

note: this is the first time ive ever uploaded my writing, also have in mind that english is not my first language so please give me constructive criticism/feedback !!! tho be gentle pls im a sensitive soul ...

note 2: i don't speak dutch (obviously) so i apologize in advance if the phrases are in broken dutch

note 3: tho this is just fluff i could make a smut version or just a second part lmk what yall think.

genre: fluff

warnings: cursing and kisses(? ig

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆˚｡⋆

you were obsessed with joost and joost was obsessed with you. you were that kind of couple, the kind that was in an endless honeymoon phase and everybody knew and made everyone jealous too.

one of the first things that caught your attention from him, apart of his undeniable beauty, was his style. his baggy jeans, his leather jackets, his unique glasses, his tank tops, his odd looking shoes, his chunky belts and just his overall style was something that, to say the least, made you attracted to him.

joost is a fashion guy, so were you, and that was one of the things you both shared passion for. that was also one of the things that first caught his attention from you too. you put your own essence into your clothes and it showed, and he noticed.

when you went to the city center and passed by clothing stores windows you would automatically find pieces that couldn't help but made you think "joost would love this" or "joost would definitely wear those". so you started to sometimes send him a pic with the texts that varied between

made me think of u <3

and him seeing your notification in his notification bar would make him smile warmly, and feel seen. so he unconsciously would start doing the same to you.

but, one day you went out to the city center as usual and decided to make a step further. without a reason really, you started sending him a lot of pictures of different pieces of clothing:

do u like em?

pls answer quick

even though you already knew the answer, you waited for his reply, which took him less than two minutes of wait. he was chronically online, and besides he was a workaholic, he always made a moment to text you.

ja schat i loved em as always:3 (yes, darling)

┌—— In reply to the photo you sent: what about these gloves babe?

tho i would like those in other color ┐⁠(⁠´⁠д⁠`⁠)⁠┌

┌—— In reply to: pls answer quick

why? did smt happened ?? (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

you let out a deep breath that you didn't know you were holding and softly smiled at the kaomojis he used as you read the messages but decided not to reply yet, just to add to the surprise.

you came back home and found your boyfriend lying on the couch with his legs crossed above the cushion and with his ipad on his lap probably designing some visuals for his own shows or something for his friends. either way, his attention was brought to you the moment he heard the noise of the clockwork and the bags that he didn't know you had brought to the home.

"hoi, schat. hoe is het? did you go shopping?" (hi, darling. how are you?) he said as he turned off and put his ipad beside him on the couch before standing up to your direction to greet you with a soft grin.

"and you didn't tell me a thing, and, you didn't answer my last text, so i guess we are like this now, huh? i thought you loved me and going shopping with your boyfriend. but i guess that got old or something..." he said in a teasing, playful way as he played the sad poor little thing role now almost in front of you.

you couldn't help but giggle a little at his tease as you locked up and closed the door after letting the bags on the floor to wrap your arms around joost's neck as his hands instinctively went to your waist making it impossible for you to not to lean into his touch. "hi, babe. i'm fine! and yeah, i went shopping buuut none of this is for me. and you know i love you and i love going shopping with you i just wanted to do a lil something for you"

both things were true: that you love him and that you love going shopping with him. activity that became a recurrent in your daily life as a couple. sometimes y'all went to the shops just to take a look at the products without the intention to but something. but, joost couldn't resist himself and always ended up buying something for you. sometimes it could be something small like a pin, a patch or some accessory, or it could be something over €100. it didn't matter how many times you'd refuses to accept it or tell him that you would pay it for yourself, or tell him that he didn't have to, or that it wasn't necessary. he would always say "i don't do it because i have to, i do it because i want to. you deserve this and even more, lieverd" he just loved giving you gifts, it was one of his love language.

you tell him as you gaze darted to the bags. it was possible to see the clothes inside them, and each piece was a bit too big for your style so joost started connecting the dots as you continued talking and he listened attentively while he drew mindless patterns on the skin of your waist with his thumbs "remember all the photos i sent you earlier? well i saw 'em and I thought they looked sooo good on you, like everything, so i couldn't hold myself from buying it... for you" you said with you big doe eyes that made him weak by the knees every time.

you sensed his hold on you tightening as you said "... for you" and a wide smile tugged on his lips that he just couldn't contain "babe.. you're fucking crazy" he said with his thick accent slipping deeply in every word and with a palpable excitement. "you really buy it all? how- how much does it all costed you? you know you didn't have to" he giggled as his gaze darted between the bags on the floor and your cute face. he was going to get a cuteness aggression attack because of you. "i'm supposed to be the one that buys you things."

"and i thought i would get maybe a 'i love you' or 'thank you', jeez..." you chuckled as you leaned to finally capture his lips on a sweet and tender kiss that joost made no effort to stop. your hands went to the back of his hair and his hands were holding you by your lower back. you were in perfect synchrony. soft hums and breath started to fill the room 'til joost finally moved apart from you.

"god, ik hou van je liefde" he said aa he forehead rested against yours as you both recovered air.

"me too, joosti" you said with a grin before you give him a peck on his cheek. your started stroking his hair as you moved away from him to see his eyes. "i wanted to dressed you up and make you a photo shoot" before asking him you give him another peck on his other cheek as you looked at him with your big eyes, making sure that he wouldn't say no. and how could he? you were his biggest weak spot. "can i? pretty please?"

joost was looking at you with hearts on his eyes, you were completely hypnotizing to him. and when he saw you making all those moves he already knew you were going to ask him something. and he also knew that he would obliged because he couldn't say no to you when you look that perfectly beautiful in front of him. and there wasn't a thing that wanted more than make you happy, what can he say, he is just a lover boy.

so when you finally asked him he rolled his eyes and giggled "oké, it's the least that i can do for you for all the clothes. i still can't believe that you actually bought all dat for me"

"it's just that i wanted to return it to you. you always buy me things so I wanted to give it back to you. but don't get used to this tho..." you said teasingly to him. "so, now that you agreed I'm going to make you a haul of everything i bought for you and after that I'm going to put on makeup on you. sounds good?"

"whatever you say, gorgeous"

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after you did to him a haul of every single bag that you brought like you were some kind of tik toker, you set it up everything to start making the photo shoot.

"so... what are your thoughts? do i have a good taste?" you asked him with clear excitement and eagerly looking forward to his verdict

"yeah, well... it's clear that you have a good taste." he said with a smug expression on his face as he gestured himself with his hands before letting out a laugh. "nah, but seriously, you do have a good taste. you already know that, schat." he took one of your hands on both of his to gently stroke your skin, making your hand look so small in comparison. he looked at you and asked you "so you are going to put make up on me now, right?"

"yeah, you're going to be my model today" you leaned to him and give him a soft kiss on his lips staring at his face for a moment just to drink in his beauty. "but first i need you to change. so go and put on the t-shirt, the jacket, the jeans and the gloves" you brought him an adidas t-shirt and a matching jacket of the argentina selection football, the predominant colors were light blue, white, and a soft gold, in addition to black details. a dark grey baggy jeans and white leather gloves, the ones he ask you to find in other colour.

and he did just as you ask. he stood up from the couch that you and him were sitting on before bringing your hand to his lips to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles, went to the bedroom with the clothes picked up from the bags with the tag still on in his hands to go changing.

meanwhile, you were taking out the hair brush, a mirror, the eyeliner, the hairpins, the eyeshadow palette and the make up brushes that you were going to use on him.

he came back to the room you were in with his gaze intentionally on the floor rubbing his hands with his fingers between the index finger and thumb, moving them up and down, as if he was anticipating something while mewing pretty hard modeling the clothes you gifted him. you couldn't help but let out a chuckle because of his unserious attitude but that didn't mean that the clothes didn't fitted perfect on him, just as you pictured him.

when he heard your chuckle his gaze went to yours with a raised eyebrow. "what is so funny now, eh? i thought i looked hot, not funny" he teaed with a feigned hurt in his face

and you couldn't help but to chuckle again at his question "you already know you look hot and you look hot everyday for me. it's just that you were mewing so hard." you did a pause before finish speaking "bros looksmaxing too hard"

when the "looksmaxing" word came out of your mouth he couldn't help but laugh so much that he had to put his hands in his knees and bent slightly.

"did you really just said 'looksmaxin' out loud, lieverd? god, i can't believe it... my girlfriend is brainrotted" he said shaking his head

"shut up, don't act like you are not like me, or even worse..." you stood up and walked just in front of him "also, like if you don't love me for it."

he looked down at you, sometimes you both forget about the height difference between you two. it wasn't that wide actually. but it was noticeable and more so in times like this "when you are right, you are right, schat, i can't lie to you. i do love you for it."

he wrapped his arms around your waist before leaning closer to your face and just when you closed your eyes and your lips were already in kiss shape he whispered "mijn mooie vriendin brainrot" then he finally kissed you and you could feel his smug smile even when kissing. it was funny, weird and corny but at the same time cute too, and that was pretty much how you could summarize your relationship

when you finally break up the kiss you rested you head on his chest hearing his heartbeat "can i do your makeup now?"

"oh. ja, ja. of course, i already forgot about it. you are a good distraction, you know." while he spoke he was running his fingers through your hair before you took him by his hands and walked him to the couch again.

you rolled your eyes at his comment. once you both sat on the couch his hands went to your thighs as you were on his lap making it more comfortable for you to do his makeup and to have a good perspective of his pretty face. you decide to just make him very dark eyes but you wanted to stay like that a bit more so you decide to start with applying him concealer.

"you're so pretty" you said with concentration visible on your face as you put him dots of concealer below his eyes making him look up don't allowing him to see your sheepish smile that he loved so much

"you are one to talk, schatje" he replied to you as a warm smile appeared on his lips while he drew patterns on your thighs. "what are you going to do to me?" he realized quite later how it sounded "... you know what i meant"

you giggled at how he phrased the question as you continued to spread the product "besides of doing to you whatever i want, i'm going to use black eyeshadow and eyeliner. this was just something i wanted to put on you. after finishing with that i'm going to figure out what im going to do with you hair."

"i trust you, liefde. i'm yours, you know that already."

you moved his face from his chin to make him look at you and kiss. between sweet kisses you tell him "Ik houd van jou, joost" just to hear "Ik hou ook van jou, y/n"

when you both decided that it was enough for now you finished with the concealer, you apply him compact power to set it up before starting to apply him the black eyeshadow.

"i love how black eyeshadow looks on you and your fans do too." you said with the palette on one hand and in the other the brush that you dip in it. "close your eyes for me, real quick"

he nodded and closed his eyes for you like you told him to "yeah i know, can't blame them though. i feel like it makes my eyes... uh, how do i say it... pop! ja, ja." he replied quietly with a smug smile

you giggled at his little struggle with his English "yeah, it really does. that's why i love it so much." your voice quiet as well due to your focus on making it look messy and pigmented enough. you shift his face to the other side by his chin to make it easier for you

"god, my brain is tired of speaking in English, schat." he whined with his eyes still closes as you almost finished with the last eye "why can't you just learn dutch, huh?" he opened his other eye to see your expression

you put your hand with the black tip brush down to let him open the other eye "sometimes i forget the effort that you make to speak english all the time for me, but that doesn't mean that i don't appreciate it. buuut, I'm learning dutch, it's just that is complicated you know" you raised your hand again and he closed his eyes again for you

"yeah, yeah. i know." you were done and he was finally ready "duolingo goes hard" he joked and he couldn't help laughing at his own joke

you laughed too without really meaning to "i cant believe you" you grabbed the hand mirror and face it to him "you're all set. take a look at yourself"

his hands went from your thighs to the hand mirror "you did me so well, huh" when he was done analyzing your makeup on his face he left the mirror on the couch and dropped his hand on your waist, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing that he ever landed his eyes on. "thank you, y/n"

"you've given me a nice place to work on, joost." your smile mirrored his as you looked at his every facial feature just thinking how lucky you were to be his. your hands went to his shoulders you both stared at each other's eyes before you asked him:

"can i take you some pictures?"

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idk how i really feel about this i wrote it a long time ago and forget that i had it on my draft :p

[nekoboydreams]

Hello (\*´▽｀)ノノ!! I've recently become obsessed with the yandere game you created! It's ignited such an uncontrollable desire in me—I can barely hold myself back! I'm absolutely dying to write a fanfiction based on *The Freak Circus*. But before that, I wanted to ask for your permission, because I truly don't want to offend or trouble you in any way...If it's okay, may I ask you a few questions?

① If Pierrot were to be voiced in the future, what do you think his voice would sound like? And what kind of tone and voice would best suit Harlequin, considering his character? Knowing this would be a huge help to my writing.

② Also, the circus food! Does it have mind-controlling, thought-distorting properties? Could it possibly amplify the eater's deepest desires, growing more intense over time until those poor souls completely lose their self-awareness—becoming obsessed with the circus and the clowns who perform for them? I also suspect the female assistant who was killed by one of Pierrot’s thrown knives might be one of the captured victims. She’s probably really dead. And what if she was actually one of the player’s missing colleagues? That would mean all those missing women in the town might be connected... OMG 🙀🙀🙀

③ Suppose the player has a strong self-destructive tendency and often keeps to themselves outside of necessary social situations. How would Pierrot react to this? Would he feel worried—or secretly delighted? And if one day the player collapses to the ground, quietly crying while clinging to Pierrot's clothes and begging him to kill them, what would he do? Especially if they said things like, “Only dying by your hand could bring me peace,” or “My darling, my savior, please kill me and eat me, so you’ll never leave me and I can finally rest.” Would Pierrot be moved?This is my first time asking, and I couldn’t help but say so much…!! I really hope I didn’t bother you 😔🤗🥰

Wow, I’m really glad to hear all this! And I’m impressed by the length of your questions, haha! Feel free to write as much as you want I’d love to see it! Now, about your questions:

About the voices: A lot of people ask me this, but since I’m not a native English speaker, I don’t have a huge repertoire of voices for them. What I can try to explain is that Pierrot would have a calm voice when talking to the MC, maybe slightly hoarse from being silent so much. When he makes those kind of disturbing statements to the MC, I imagine his voice thickens a bit. As for Harlequin, he has a sarcastic, somewhat mocking tone. His voice probably wouldn’t be that deep, although his laugh carries a dark, deep tone. Does that make sense to you? If I find voices that fit them in some content, I could do a post about it, since it’s a question that keeps coming up, haha.

About the food: You have some interesting theories. On Day 2, you’ll see Pierrot talk a bit about it. So what I can say for now is that the food can put you into a euphoric state. It gets hard for whoever eats it to think clearlythings get confusing, and you might start misinterpreting stuff. The MC feels their heart racing and isn’t sure if it’s because they likes Pierrot, for example.

Self-destructive tendencies: That opens up a lot of possible reactions for Pierrot! If he sees the MC isolating themself but they’re okay with it, then to him there’s no problem there. But if the MC isolates themself and seems to be suffering from things like that, he’d get worried and try to help, but in his own way. He’s not very social either, so his way of helping wouldn’t be very conventional. Now, about the MC asking to be devoured, that’s a complicated threshold. Pierrot isn’t the type of yandere to hurt the MC intensely, but there could be a scenario where he’d fulfill that request. It’s something very specific, so let’s just say it’s not something I can to detail right now heh.

[kaliforniahigh]

Hi! I love your stories 🤍 Please can you write something with "I" and "Y" with Noah? 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - 900 Followers Celebration!

I (intimacy) + Y (yearn) | Slight NSFW under the cut! | Thank you for the request ❤️

"I know it's been a while, baby. But you gotta be patient", Noah whispered in the quiet of your bedroom. He stroked your cheeks with thumb, looking at you so softly, you swear you crumble right there.

"I've been patient for so long already", you almost whine your words out.

You don't want to be bratty, you swear you don't. But it's just been such a long time since you and Noah have been intimate, and you don't want to wait any longer.

You kind of feel bad for the way you're talking to him right now. He's been so kind to you, calming you down, making you both didn't rush too much and that you were comfortable.

"I know, sweet girl. And love the way you want me so bad. But we gotta get you ready first, ok?", he explained his point, and you almost wanted to say no, tell him that you've been ready since he left for the stint of festival a couple of weeks ago.

But then, he was drifting his hand lower, skimming his fingers over your panties, and all thoughts drifted away from your brain.

You turned to mush the moment he pushed your panties to the side and felt how incredibly wet and needy you were for him.

"You feel so good. I knew you'd be this wet for me", he said in the shell of your year, and your only response was a chocked moan that scaped from your throat.

"Gonna go slow. So you can remember every feeling", he slipped one finger inside and you gasped in ecstasy. "So you can remember how my fingers feel inside of you", he pumped in and out and leisurely pace. "And I want to remember how warm you. How tight you squeeze me. How your face looks like when you cum for me".

His words were making you dizzy. And it's when you realized that he needed to go slow for his own sake.

"Will you help me remember, baby?", he asked, and you let out a string of "yeses", as you nodded your head and clung to him.

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