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sceletaflores · 4 months

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Being a professional masseur for players and taking care of our boy art.

Hes just so sad and so pretty that you just giving head to make him feel better 😔

Plot twist: he falls in love with you because duh? Hot+sex=you being promoted pookie, you are now the donaldsons elite employes!!!!!!

Baby, show me where it hurts...

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you never intended on becoming a "celebrity" massage therapist. you just wanted to be a massage therapist, the whole celebrity thing just sort of happened, you blame cali for that. but the novelty of your job wore off long ago, you hardly blink at the clients on your table nowadays. that is until tashi duncan calls you and absolutely fucks everything up

— or: art donaldson needs a massage therapist…

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (m!receiving), oral (fem!receiving), p in v, fingering (fem!receiving), angst? maybe? could this be considered angst?, slight age gap, no tashi duncan erasure because i don't stand for that, cheating but not really cause tashi knows, she always knows, she is an all seeing eye, and she kind of orchestrates it, SOOOOO much plot, like way too much i'm sorry, art being sad and tired, art also being kinda pathetic a little bit, unprofessional massages, no use of y/n.

word count: 10k+ (someone stop me....pls still read this lmao)

author's note: this ask was blessedly placed in my inbox and it was all i’ve thought about since. this is my first big fic since my mike schmidt days so hopefully i'm not rusty! i've seen this damn cursed hell movie ten times, so hopefully i do it justice. i'm also still struggling sooo much with art and tashi as characters so please bear with me if they aren't movie accurate i'm trying my best. okay. thank you. hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

You don't get starstruck often, not anymore at least. The clients that find their way onto your table are just that in your eyes, clients. You don't see them as big time "celebrities”. Just men and women who need your professional help.

That being said, you almost dropped your phone the first time the Tashi Duncan called you.

It was a normal work day for you, spent buried in paperwork and training a new secretary. You're folding the steam room towels on your lunch break when your phone rings. No caller ID, you answer it anyways.

"Hello, you've reached Lush Retreat Med Spa," you rattle off into your phone, placing it between your ear and shoulder to continue folding. "How can we help you?"

"This is Tashi Duncan calling for Art Donaldson, we've heard great things about you and were hoping to schedule an appointment."

The towel drops from your hands, your mouth falling open in shock. You reach up to tightly grip your phone, not wanting to embarrass yourself by dropping your phone with Tashi fucking Duncan on the end of the line.

Of course you know who she is, but doesn't everyone? The tennis prodigy from Stanford who was on top of the world when a tragic knee injury stole everything from her in a single second. You absolutely idolized her when you were in high school and playing tennis competitively. You watched all the recorded matches you could get your hands on, wore your DUNCANATOR shirts to practice constantly, only bought the tennis rackets she used. You had her fucking posters plastered on the walls of your old bedroom for Christ's sake.

That was until you, ironically, shattered your wrist in a car accident and had to hang up the racket and pleated skirts forever. Just like her.

Now, Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson are California royalty. An unfairly beautiful couple living what seems to be the dream. You'd never kept up much with Art's career like you did Tashi's, but you follow them both on Instagram and you see his face on billboards all over the city almost daily so you can assume it was fruitful. It may help him that he's extremely easy on the eyes, or "super fucking hot!" in your coworkers words.

"Hello?" Her voice ringing out from the tiny speaker ripped you out of your thoughts and back into reality.

"Y-yes, sorry," you cringe internally at yourself, stuttering over your words like a loser. You force yourself to sound professional when you speak again, "We'd love to help you any way we can. Do you have a certain time and date in mind already?"

"We're not home right now, we were thinking next Thursday. Around four." There's no question mark on the end of her sentence, you know that she isn't asking you, she's telling you. You don't even bother to check the schedule before you're answering.

"We will be free that day. I'll go ahead and put you in our system." you rush over to the front desk computer and open the calendar, thankfully you are actually free for Thursday. "I'm assuming you know our location?" you ask as you type in the appointment details, ignoring how your fingers shake ever so slightly as you type Tashi into the slot.

"Actually," Tashi's voice has a different tone to it when she speaks again, it’s something you can’t quite place, your fingers slow down slightly as you listen, "we wanted to make this a home visit."

You stop typing completely, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at your computer screen. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Donaldson but we don't do at home appointments…per our policy." you reply meekly, almost surprised that you're denying her.

"Duncan, actually,” she corrects you nonchalantly, you don’t have time to unpack that before she’s speaking again. “We did read that on your website, but we'd hope you might make an exception. You wouldn't need to bring much. We have our own table." Her tone isn't harsh or impolite, just firm and certain, like she knows you'll give in to her.

You do.

"Well," you bite your lip as you wrestle internally with yourself, torn between what you want to do and what you should do. "Okay, we can do that for you."

"Great. I'll send you the address. See you then." She hangs up without saying goodbye.

You plant your phone next to you and stare at the filled out appointment slot taking up your computer screen, processing what just happened. You're going to Tashi Duncan's house. To give her hot pro-tennis player husband a massage. In their house.

"What the fuck."

SIX DAYS LATER...

The walk up to The Donaldson's huge mansion on a mountain has your stomach turning in on itself. All week you were a ball of nervous energy just floating around your office, trying to find anything to distract you from your upcoming appointment. Now that it's here, you feel you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

You hardly got any sleep last night, tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you gave up, barging into your building's gym to try and sweat your nerves out. When that didn't work you just retreated back to your apartment and got ready.

You try not to think about why it took you so long to get ready, longer than most work mornings. Taking more time in the shower, more time doing your hair, more time doing your makeup.

You even choose an outfit you'd hardly ever wear in front of regular clientele. A matching white polo set, a skirt in place of shorts. You tell yourself that you just want to look good, who wants to look like a mess in front of Tashi Duncan?

Your hands white-knuckle the steering wheel of your car on the drive over. You couldn’t even play any music, the noise in your head already too loud as it was, only cranking up the AC and silently following the crisp voice of your GPS reading off the directions Tashi sent you.

The closer you get to the door the more you want to turn and run down the insanely long driveway, get back in your car and haul ass home without ever looking back.

You don't because you're a professional, or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.

Your hand shakes as you ring their doorbell, hearing it echo back at you from the inside. You only wait a few seconds before the large door swings open and there she is.

Tashi Duncan is every bit as beautiful in person as she is splashed across the pages of magazines and blown up twenty feet on billboards. She looks so effortlessly classy in her Ralph Lauren sweater and flowy black dress pants.

Your name falls from her lips, and all the blood rushes to your ears. Her silky voice wraps around each syllable with an enticing heat that makes you weak in the knees. You feel sixteen years old all over again, standing at the woman who basically molded you into who you are today. It's a dizzying sensation, the rush of nostalgia and emotions flooding in like an avalanche. The memories you have locked away in your brain of the countless late night practices, the hundreds of hours spent on the court, the trophies and ribbons littering your moms basement collecting dust, the refusal to give up and pushing your body past its own limits because you wanted to be just like her. You wanted to be Tashi Duncan, and when you catch yourself nervously rubbing your thumb over the scar spanning your right wrist, you guess in some sick twisted way that you kind of are.

"So glad you could make it," she greets breezily, stepping to the side to let you in. “We were worried you’d get lost.”

The house is, of course, beautiful on the inside. Tall ceilings, big fireplace, a beautiful staircase leading to the second floor. There’s toys strewn messily along the living room floor, the TV mounted on the wall is paused on ESPN.

You hope you don’t look as crazy as you feel taking in the space, taking in the fact that Tashi is standing right in front of you.

“No, the directions were very helpful,” your voice only slightly wavers as you respond, you count that as a win, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donalds–uh–Duncan.” You cringe at your fumble, but try to power through by extending Tashi your hand.

She watches you for a second, sharp eyes flicking over your body quickly like she’s inspecting you. It makes your cheeks feel warm as you struggle to not squirm underneath her gaze. Finally, she takes your hand in hers and gives it a firm shake. You ignore the way her touch makes your palm burn.

“Art should already be in the massage room, it’s in the pool house,” Tashi says, gesturing to the huge windows in the living room showing off a lavish underground pool with a smaller building situated next to it, “I have to take a phone call here in a few minutes so I trust you’ll find your way there.”

You nod slowly, adjusting the strap of your supply bag on your shoulder. Tashi doesn't even pause walking further into the house as she speaks to you, heels clicking with each step as she makes her way to the large staircase in the middle of the room. There’s still no question marks tacked on to the end of her sentences, just like over the phone.

“It’s just through that door, first room on the left. I told him to leave the door open for you.” She continues, reaching the stairs and making her way up slowly. She tosses her head over her shoulder to make eye contact with you again. “He’s been complaining about his shoulder acting up. The right one, it’s what needs the most attention. He serves with that arm, we need it at a hundred.” she fires off casually, like she’s recited this information before.

You go to speak but her phone ringing cuts you off, echoing off the house's crisp white walls. “Thank you for coming to see us, it was nice meeting you.” Tashi says politely, giving you one final once over before she’s answering her phone and disappearing up the stairs.

“It was nice meeting you too…” you trail off quietly, fully caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. Out of every single time you’d fantasized about what meeting Tashi Duncan would be like, none of them were quite like this. At least it’s over you figure, and you even managed to not make a complete fool of yourself.

You hold onto that tiny win as you walk through the living room doors and outside, making your way to the pool house like Tashi instructed. The entrance is unlocked as you step inside, thankfully you spot the cracked door a little ways in front of you.

The sound of your footsteps are loud as you make your way down the short hallway, tennis shoes making small thump sounds against the concrete floor. You pause for just a second outside the cracked door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open and stepping inside. The room is empty, the only things inside are some shelves lined with various essential oils and lotions, and an expensive looking massage table in the center. You muse over the fact that their table looks a little better than the ones in your own spa, no wonder they wanted a home visit.

The room is well lit as you walk around, dim in a way that promotes relaxation. The soft, ambient lighting bathes the room in a gentle, golden glow, complemented by the flicker of aromatic candles placed strategically around the space. You wonder who lit them, Tashi? Or maybe Art? You let out a small laugh at the idea of Tashi Duncan and Art Donaldson fawning over the room before you showed up, setting up candles and mood lighting to make it feel nicer, less clinical.

You’re probably just reading too much into it. You always urge clients to ask for anything that will make them feel more comfortable, apparently Art just likes eucalyptus sage candles and mood lighting. It has nothing to do with you.

Your name being said from somewhere behind you rips you out of your own mind. You whirl around, and find yourself face to face with six time Grand Slam Champion, Tashi Duncan’s super hot husband, Art Donaldson. And he’s only wearing a fucking towel.

“Hello,” he greets with a kind smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “it’s nice to finally meet you, thank you so much for taking the time to come out here.”

Art is already worlds different from Tashi, or that’s what you’re inferring after spending less than five minutes with each of them. It’s still extremely apparent, Tashi has an almost overpowering presence to her, everything about her commands respect and she knows that. She uses that to her advantage, she likes it like that.

The man standing in front of you is nothing like that. The Art Donaldson in front of you doesn’t seem like some big shot tennis player with more impressive stats than you could wrap your head around. You’ve come to know that a few pro-sports guys like to swing their dicks around, bragging about their booming careers non-stop during a session. Yet everything about Art is unassuming as he stands in the doorway like he’s trying to make himself look smaller.

“Hi, Mr. Donaldson,” you’re not sure if it's appropriate to offer a man wearing a towel dangerously low on his hips your hand, you decide against it. “It’s no trouble really, I’m happy to help.”

“Please, call me Art.” The tone of his voice makes you want to shiver, smooth and warm like honey.

You try your best not to stare, but it’s so hard to ignore the toned expanse of Art’s body when it’s right there. He’s all broad shoulders, firm pecs, sculpted legs, with a cut Adonis belt. He’s like a marble statue, made in Michelangelo's perfect image.

Your eyes trail back up his body, lingering on his chest before rising up to his face. You’re mortified to see he’s staring right back at you, effectively catching you in the act. Your cheeks burn as you tear your gaze away, looking at anything and everything other than him. In your panic, you don’t notice the way his eyes rake over you in the same way.

“Okay, Art,” you say a little breathlessly, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. “It’s nice to meet you. Mrs. Duncan let me know about your major problem areas, I’ll be sure to focus on them.” Involuntarily bringing up Tashi has your stomach clenching up in guilt, you just got done ogling her husband's body. You hope he takes the silent cue you're giving him to get on the damn table so you can start the massage and get the hell out of here.

Art nods silently, walking over to the table and moving to lie down on his stomach. You busy yourself with prepping your oils, taking them out of your bag and setting them on a small side table next to the massage bed uncapped for easy access. You can’t help but sneak glances at the rippling muscle of Art’s back as he shifts, his skin looks soft and is littered with freckles. You don’t miss the hiss he lets out when he lays his weight on his shoulder.

You usually don’t speak much during appointments, only engaging in conversation when your client initiates it, but you feel the need to fill the silence between you and Art. The quiet atmosphere makes everything seem far too intimate, and sure on some level it always is, but this feels different.

“How’d you hurt it? Your shoulder. If you don’t mind me asking.” you ask once he’s settled, placing your fingertips to the middle of his right shoulder, feeling around for any tension. Art tenses slightly at your touch, taking a sharp breath. You guess you should have warned him, you open your mouth to apologize but he lets out a small breath and relaxes onto the table again.

Art sighs, his voice tinged with weariness. "It was, uh, during a match. I overextended trying to return a serve. Haven't been able to move it properly since."

You nod, hands starting to move in slow, deliberate circles across the muscle. “That sounds about right. Most people don’t realize how brutal tennis is to the body, injuries are common,” you pointedly try to ignore the flashbacks of your wrist failing to swing a racket properly after you healed from your accident, flashbacks of watching as the bone pierced through your skin. “Sounds like you might need to take it easy for a while.” you continue, trying to keep the conversation light.

Art chuckled, though it was devoid of real humor. "Yeah, I’ve been playing a lot lately. Guess I pushed myself too hard." He winces slightly as you work on a particularly tight knot, shoulder tensing under your hands.

You pause, your hands stilling momentarily as you catch the underlying tension in Art's voice. "The season’s almost over, maybe it's time to give yourself a break, take some time to rest and recuperate." you remark softly, your tone gentle yet concerned.

Art's gaze flickers to yours, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "I wish I could," he admits, his voice heavy, "But it's hard to step away, especially when it feels like it's all I have that’s still keeping everything together."

Your heart clenches at the raw honesty in his words. He’s completely silent afterwards, you wonder if he’s regretting telling you something like that, like maybe it just fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. Without a word, you continue to knead away the tension in his muscles, offering a silent gesture of support.

As you continue to work, hands skillfully moving over Art’s shoulder, you can’t help but notice the weariness in Art's demeanor. His presence feels heavy, almost broken, as if the physical pain was just a small part of what he was carrying. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. You can feel the weight of struggles pressing down on him, the way his shoulders sag slightly even under your careful touch.

“I can feel the tension here," you say gently, applying a little more pressure, "Just try to relax.”

With each knead and press, you remind yourself of your role. You’re here to help him heal, and that was all that mattered. But as your hands move over his warm skin, you can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what you had anticipated, something that made your heart race with both excitement and anxiety. You were so worried about meeting Tashi you completely forgot about Art. It’s a different story now as your hands explore the smooth planes of his back to the steady sound of his breathing.

"You're really good at this," Art says after a while, his voice a bit lighter.

You smile, a genuine one, the first real smile you’ve had since you got here. “Thanks. I’d hope so after all this time.”

Art lets out a small chuckle muffled by the table, it makes your stomach flutter. “How did you get into this? Massage therapy seems interesting.”

You laugh but it’s a bitter sound, moving your hands down to focus lower on Art’s shoulder. You try not to think about your tennis career, even after all this time you struggle with the memories despite all the good it brought you. “That’s a long story.” you mutter under your breath, even to your own ears you sound resentful.

“I’ve got time.” It’s a simple reply, but it’s so honest. Like Art’s genuinely interested in you, in getting to know you. It makes you feel dizzy.

“I, um,” you worry your lip between your teeth, working your hands harder over Art’s back. “I actually used to play tennis. When I was in high school.”

Art makes an interested noise, shifting under your hands as he moves his head to lay on the side of the table so he could look up at you. “No shit?” he looks more shocked than anything.

You nod, humming in confirmation as you finally move onto his other shoulder. “Yup, I was pretty serious about it back then, until I got injured.” You don’t meet Art’s gaze, but you can see how his face falls in your peripheral vision. You kind of want to laugh at how ironic this moment is, you wonder if Art’s thinking about Tashi’s knee. You know he was at the match, you’ve seen the blurry footage of Tashi Duncan’s fall from grace, watched Art vault over the net to get to her.

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.

“It’s okay, wasn't like it was my fault or anything,” you say, finally meeting his eyes with a rueful smile and raising your right wrist to show him your scar. “I got hit by a drunk driver coming home late from practice one night. Nasty fracture, bone went straight through.” You hope your voice is coming out as nonchalant as you’re trying to make it sound.

Art's eyes widen in disbelief as he takes in your scar, a mixture of shock and sympathy evident on his face. "Wow, that's...terrible," he murmurs, his voice tinged with compassion.

You shrug, the memories still vivid despite the passage of time. "It was tough, it was awful actually. All the physical therapy in the world couldn’t get a racket back in my hand,” you confess softly, fingers tracing the outline of the scar absentmindedly again. “But it also forced me to reevaluate things, in a way. It made me realize that life doesn't always go according to plan.” You see Tashi’s knee buckling in your mind's eye. “When I finally realized that I could take all the hate and all the anger I was feeling and channel it into something good, something like massage therapy, I never looked back."

You immediately regret over-sharing, feeling silly telling Art your sob story, but when you meet his eye again, he has an odd look on his face. His expression is soft as he looks up at you through long lashes, understanding and empathy swimming in the blue of his eyes.

"Well, silver linings, huh?" he says after a few seconds, there’s traces of a smile playing on his lips. You let out a small laugh, nodding your head slightly.

"Yeah," you agree, a small smile on your lips. "Silver linings."

As the conversation fades into a comfortable silence, you and Art find yourselves locked in a silent exchange, your eyes meeting and holding a depth of something you can’t quite pick up on. In that moment, the world around you seems to blur, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared moment of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has formed between you, as if you've uncovered a piece of each other.

The shrill ringing of your phone’s alarm pierces through the moment, both you and Art jump at the sudden sound. It’s like a cold bucket of water pouring over your head, washing away whatever just happened between the two of you. The session’s over, you’re done.

“Okay,” you say a little too loudly, taking your hands off Art's back like his skin could burn you any second. “Looks like we’re all done.” You try to smile but it feels fake, forced, so you turn your back to Art and start capping your oils to shove them back in your bag.

Art’s voice breaks the silence as you pack up, sounding a little less confident than it did earlier. “Uh, my neck has been bothering me too, recently,” he says offhandedly as he sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “I think I may have slept on it wrong.”

You stop what you’re doing, turning to face Art again, silently cursing him for not just letting you leave. “Do you want me to take a look before I go?” You pray he says no. You should know it won’t be that easy, not with your shit luck.

“If you don’t mind?” His tone is so hopeful and his eyes are so big that your feet are walking towards him before your mind can catch up.

“Not at all,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. You step closer, practically between his slightly spread legs, feeling the warmth of his skin even before you touch him. Your fingers brush against his neck, and he shivers slightly, the muscles tight and knotted beneath your touch.

"Just relax," you murmur, trying to maintain any shred of professional demeanor. As you work, you can't help but notice the way his breath hitches, the tension in his body melting away under your skilled hands. The room feels smaller, the air heavier with each passing second.

He closes his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "That feels amazing," he whispers, and you swallow hard, trying to focus solely on the task at hand. As you work, the intimacy of the moment isn't lost on you, and you can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Minutes tick by like hours as you work the tense muscle of Art’s neck. You're acutely aware of every sigh, every shift in his body, every subtle reaction to your touch. You finally pull away when you think it’s been enough time, eager to get out of this damn house before you do something you’ll regret.

You didn’t notice how close you really were to Art until you pulled back only to be met with his face mere inches away from yours. Startled by the sudden proximity, you freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of Art's gaze. His eyes, dark and searching, seem to hold a silent question, a silent invitation.

Now, Art’s body is one thing, it’s objectively perfect. He’s a professional athlete, of course it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. It’s his damn face that gets you.

He’s beautiful, beyond beautiful. He looks like he should be splayed across canvas hanging in the Louvre. The dim lighting in the room illuminates his face beautifully, his golden hair haloing around his head makes him look ethereal. Each of his features look as if they were handcrafted by a master sculptor, each contour and line a testament to perfection. His chiseled jawline speaks of strength and determination, while his lips, soft and inviting, seem to beckon you closer with every breath. His eyes are deep pools of ocean blue, though this close you can see a small splash of brown in his left eye you didn’t notice before, swirling with emotions that stir something deep within you.

Something more shocking than Art’s beauty, is how fucking tired he looks. Lines of exhaustion are etched along his face, subtle but undeniable. The weariness in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent plea for respite from the relentless demands of tennis. And yet, even amidst the exhaustion, there's a flicker of longing. He’s staring at you like he needs you, eyes wide and yearning. His chest rising and failing a little more harshly than it did before, each exhale coming out ragged and sharp.

“Art…” you whisper, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. He’s so warm, the heat emitting off of him makes you want to lean into it. You want to crawl on top of his powerful thighs and bury your face in his chest and never leave. Your hands flex where they’re draped over Art’s neck.

It happens in slow motion, Art’s hand trails up the skin of your thigh as your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and it’s like you’ve been electrocuted. You’re rearing back with a sharp breath, dropping your hands from his neck and taking a couple steps back.

“It was really nice to- uh to meet you, Art.” you say frantically, swinging your bag firmly over your shoulder and rushing to the door. Art’s still sitting on the table, silently watching you panic. He doesn’t try to stop you. “I hope your shoulder feels better,” is all you say before bursting out the door and speed walking out of the pool house.

Your heart's racing as you walk through the backyard, hands shaking even through the death grip you have on the strap of your bag. What the hell was that? What the hell was that? Did Art Donaldson just make a pass at you? You must be imagining things.

The thought rattles around in your mind, refusing to be dismissed. His words, his tone—they seemed to linger in the air, haunting you with their implications. The way he touched you, like he couldn’t help himself. But no, it couldn't be. He was married to Tashi, and besides, he was just being polite, right? You try to convince yourself of that as you make your way back to the house.

As you walk inside, still slightly shaken up, Tashi’s the first thing you see. She’s sitting in the living room, laptop open on the coffee table in front of her.

“Hey,” she says, sitting up straighter on the coach, “how was it?”

You swallow, urging yourself to calm down. “It was great, he should be seeing some improvement over the next few days.”

Tashi nods her head, seemingly pleased though it doesn’t show on her face. “Could this be a weekly thing, these appointments. He could really use them.”

No question marks. Motherfucker.

You flounder, stomach dropping. “Weekly? As in every Thursday?”

Tashi’s brow raises, eyes looking over you inquisitively. “Yes, preferably all home visits.”She stands from the couch, taking a couple steps towards you. “We read on your website you take permanent clients, is that not the case anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes wide as they follow her while she walks. “N-no, Mrs. Duncan we do. We could pencil you in if you’re willing to pay monthly for the time slot. Would you like to talk to some of my other employees to work out a rotating schedule?”

Tashi stops a few feet away from you, hands in her pockets. “Actually, we were hoping you’d be the one coming down. The only one.” You blink, her words slam over you like a ton of bricks. Just you, in a room with a half-naked Art. Every single Thursday. That can’t happen, not after what just went down between the two of you.

You can practically hear the warning bells blaring in your mind, urging you to refuse, to put an end to this before it spirals out of control. Yet, there's another voice, quieter but no less insistent, whispering seductive promises of what could be if you were to stay.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you grapple with the conflicting desires warring within you. Tashi's expectant gaze weighs heavily on you, waiting for your response, and you know that whatever decision you make will irrevocably alter the course of things between you and Art. With a shaky breath, you steel yourself, the weight of your choice settling like a stone in your stomach.

"I...I'll do it," you finally say, the words leaving your lips before you can stop them. "I'll make sure to pencil you in for weekly sessions, Mrs. Duncan."

Tashi's lips curve up slightly, satisfied, but beneath the surface you can sense the tension thrumming through the air. You've made your choice, for better or for worse, and now you can only hope that it won't lead to the downfall of everything you've worked so hard to build.

“Wonderful,” she says, gesturing for you to follow her to the front door. You trail behind her like a loyal pet, silently allowing her to drag you wherever she pleases. “Thank you again for coming out, and please,” she pauses with her hand on the doorknob, turning to meet your eye, “call me Tashi.”

"Thank you, Tashi," you murmur softly, the weight of her name feeling foreign on your tongue when you’re actually saying it to her for the first time. "I'll make sure to arrange everything at the office."

Tashi's smile widens, though there's a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you, then," she says, her tone laced with a hint of anticipation. "And please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to reach out."

With a final nod, Tashi opens the front door, the outside world beckoning beyond its threshold. You take a hesitant step forward, the weight of your decision pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. As you step out into the cool evening air, you can't shake the feeling that you've just crossed a line from which there may be no turning back. But for now, all you can do is steel your nerves and hope that you haven't made a huge mistake.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Your sessions with Art continue on. The guilt settling deep in your stomach each time you set foot in the Donaldson/Duncan house also continues. It worsens each time the two of you are alone in that damned massage room. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong, but you know deep in the back of your mind that what you’re doing isn’t normal. Each meeting is a strange mixture of tension and familiarity. When you arrive, Tashi always greets you warmly, her trust in you unwavering. It feels like a dagger each time, twisting deeper and deeper into your conscience.

Neither of you talk about it, what happened during your session, and Art doesn’t treat you any differently. He still goes out of his way to make polite conversation, asking you about your life, about your business, he even brings up old anecdotes you told him offhandedly. He doesn’t talk about tennis, and he has to know you can keep up in conversation with it since you told him about your history with it, you just assume he doesn’t want to.

That makes sense, you always think back to the first time he met you. How he brushed off any conversation about his career, how his demeanor changed when he spoke about it. How drained he looked. There was a sadness in his eyes, a weight he carried that seemed to go beyond just a few standard aches and pains. You remember how it struck you then, and it strikes you still, each time you see him.

His shoulder is getting better, you can tell. He can lay on it, or raise it above his head, without wincing. That makes your heart swell, knowing that despite how weird and kind of fucked up everything is, he’s healing.

The familiar sound of your timer ringing pulls you out of your thoughts. You’re shocked at how fast this appointment flew by, but you could tell as soon as you walked into the massage room to find Art already sitting on the table waiting for you, that something about this session feels different. It’s silly to call it “sensing a bad vibe”, but that’s exactly what you felt entering the room's threshold.

Art didn’t speak much as you worked, just laying on the table silently after saying hello and asking you about your week. The silence is definitely odd, Art’s not a chatterbox by any means, but he usually keeps some form of conversation flowing. After a while, you start to think it might be something you did, like maybe he’s mad at you. It sounds so stupid in your head, like you’re some poor high school girl getting hung up over a fucking guy giving you the silent treatment.

The only thing more stupid than that is how much it’s actually affecting you. Art has you over analyzing everything you’ve said or done over the last couple visits, you dread that maybe he just came to his senses after all this time. That he finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and remembered he has a beautiful wife, and that he doesn’t really want you.

“Alright,” you say softly, stepping away from the table, “All done.” As you turn off the timer and gather your thoughts, you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You force yourself to bury it, Art doesn’t owe you an explanation, he doesn’t owe you anything. You aren’t his.

You glance over at him as he slowly sits up, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. You offer a small smile in return, trying to squash all the ugly feelings mixing in your stomach. You turn to busy yourself with packing up, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

Art’s voice cuts through the silence, sounding weary. “Are we still pretending it didn’t happen?”

It catches you off guard, making you drop the bottle in your hands back onto the table loudly. Your heart races as you turn back to face him, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, demanding a response you’re not sure you’re ready to give.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I...I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was hoping we could just…forget about it.”

Art’s eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. “I don’t think I can,” he confesses, his voice tinged with sadness.

The same feelings from that day rush back in your mind, flooding all your senses. It's as if time folds in on itself, bringing you right back to that moment where everything changed. You feel panic clawing its way up your body, fight or flight response waging a war inside of you.

You chose flight, shoving the last bottle in your bag and making a break for the door. Ready to run just like you did back then, run and come back next week with your tail between your legs desperately trying to forget that this ever happened, again. Art’s voice stops you just as you have your hand on the doorknob.

“Please…” he whispers, he sounds so broken, so vulnerable. “Please, don’t run.”

You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, or the repressed feelings, or your shitty back bone, but whatever it is makes you pause, hand falling off the doorknob to lay limp at your side. You turn back to face him, the raw need in his eyes mirrored by your own emotions. It tugs at your heart, making it impossible to leave. You feel a surge of guilt and hesitation, but the longing in his gaze holds you captive. Slowly, you make your way towards him, taking small slow steps like you could still leave at any minute, but you know you won’t.

You walk until you’re crowding him, standing between his spread legs just like you did all those sessions ago. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, like he thought you’d turn around and slam the door on him instead. Which is what you should do, you should walk out that door right now and never step foot in their house again.

Art whispers your name, his voice a soft caress that sends sparks zapping down your spine. You're close enough to feel his breath fanning over your face, warm and intimate. You inhale, like you’re trying to absorb his words, his essence, his everything.

His hand takes yours, bringing it up to his chest. He presses it firmly against his pec, right on top of his heart. You can feel the rapid, uneven thumping beneath your palm. His thumb caresses your wrist gently, making goosebumps pebble over your skin.

It’s easy to get lost in Art’s eyes, so you’re shocked to notice something that very quickly grabs your attention. Art’s towel is tented obscenely, hard cock straining against the thick material. You swallow roughly at the sight, feeling the need to touch, to take, to help.

Your knees hit the floor before you fully realize the entire gravity of what you’re doing. You don’t care about any of that anyway, not right now.

Right now Art Donaldson is swiping his thumb across the scar on your wrist with his big sparkly eyes desperately looking into yours, unashamedly begging for you to touch him.

Who are you to deny him?

Your hands find the knot of his towel and yank it roughly, ripping it off Art's hips and tossing it aside. His hard cock springs out, slapping up against his stomach enticingly. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, pleased to see he’s perfect all over.

Art’s cock is long, and thick. He’s big, but in an exciting way, not in an intimidating way. He’s already steadily drooling pre-cum from his soft pink tip, already so hard and you haven’t even touched him yet. You reach up, tracing your finger along the length of him lightly. Art inhales, his eyes fluttering closed as you touch him for the first time. The anticipation in the room is palpable, a heady mix of desire and need that seems to swirl around you both.

You circle your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and up until your hand bumps into the head, where you start to rub your thumb back and forth gently, spreading the wetness from his pre-cum before sliding your hand back down. Slowly, you lean in, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as he groans deeply, hands gripping the massage table tightly.

“Shit,” he grits out, casting his gaze to the ceiling, chest already heaving raggedly.

You slide the warmth of your mouth down the shaft of his cock, moaning at the heady taste of him, skin soft and velvety on your tongue.

“Fuck, your mouth…” Art whispers above you, his words trailing off into a string of breathy moans. You hum in response, working his cock faster to draw out more of those noises. Hollowing your cheeks, you sink down towards the circle of your fist still holding the base of his cock with wet, slippery slurping sounds. Art’s hand lets go of the table, coming up to cup your cheek in a move way too intimate for what the two of you are doing.

You chance a look up, and your heart skips several beats at what you see. Art’s already staring down at you, his face twisted up in pleasure. His pale cheeks are flushed, brows drawn together tightly, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. All that is enough to make you feel ten feet tall, but that’s not what makes you pause.

It’s his eyes, the way Art’s looking at you.

The look in his eyes is…worshipful. Reverent. Like you’re a celestial being, a divine grace walking among mortals. Not some girl on her knees for a married man in his house’s private fucking massage room.

Yet the longer you hold his gaze, while still working your mouth over his hard cock, you feel something strange stirring inside you. Art’s eyes holding such a longing reverence so intense, it was starting to elevate you to a pedestal of adoration. Of devotion.

Right now Art’s like the sun, burning so brightly you feel you need to look away before he consumes you, but you don’t.

“Please,” Art begs desperately, voice so soft you barely even hear it. There’s tears welling in his eyes, his red rimmed and so so tired looking eyes. It breaks your heart, how could such a wonderful man be reduced to this?

You pull off Art’s cock, hand still pumping firmly over him. He whines at the loss of your mouth, hips bucking up to chase after the warm heat. His tip bumps over your lips as he moves, trailing a thin line of pre-cum across them.

Without breaking eye contact, you speak.

“You’re so good, Art.”

It’s those four words whispered against the tip of Art's leaking cock that has him coming with a hitched breath and a soft cry. A few bursts of his warm come land over your parted lips before you take the head of his cock back in your mouth to greedily swallow down the rest.

"Thank you, fuck, thank you...!" Art grates out as his body trembles above you, hand squeezing yours so hard it borders on painful. You know you’re never coming back from this, but you still squeeze back as hard as you can all the same.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX DAYS LATER…

Maybe this is just your life now, fucking the husband of the woman you worshiped like a God for years on end. It’s like you can’t stop, like you’re an addict or something. No matter how disgusting and shameful you feel every time you get home from Art’s appointments, you can’t help but give into him. It’s a twisted dance, a cycle of pleasure and regret that you can’t seem to break. One look into his sad, kicked puppy eyes and you crack. You’ve convinced yourself it's just you reveling in the feeling of being truly wanted for the first time. But deep down, you know it’s more than that. It’s the way he makes you feel alive, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Art wants you. He needs you. He’s made that more than clear every single visit since you dropped down on your knees for him. The guilt gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you can't escape. Yet, every time you see him, every time he reaches out to you with that desperate need in his eyes, you find yourself powerless to resist.

You’ve never kissed, not on the lips. Art’s certainly tried, lips seeking yours out as your oiled up fist slips up and down his cock, as you sit on his lap and grind against him until he’s dirtying his towel. You just turn your head every time, letting him trail kisses along your jaw and neck instead somehow feels less real. Kissing Art will make it feel real, you know it will. So you don’t.

Funnily enough, you think things are going well. Maybe even as well as getting a married man off every Thursday can go. You can see a change in Art, in his behavior and the way he holds himself. He smiles more, he laughs more, it’s like he’s giving more of himself to you each time you meet with him. It’s exhilarating, the way your presence has this effect on him, almost as if you’re breathing new life into him.

Art’s newfound lightness is infectious. You find yourself looking forward to Thursdays with an anticipation that borders on impatience. The way he looks at you, the tender touches that linger just a bit longer, the conversations that flow more freely–it all feels like a dream you’re afraid to wake up from.

You should have known it was too good to be true, that this little world you created in your head was just the calm before the storm.

Everything about this session was normal to start. It’s a little less intense since Art’s shoulder is doing better, now you have free reign over the rest of his body. Greedy hands free to glide over the planes and planes of muscle you’ve become familiar with.

As you work on his lower back, your hands moving in practiced, soothing motions, you notice a subtle rigidity in his muscles. “Everything alright?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

Art hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just…a lot on my mind.”

You frown, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Art stays quiet, still laying silently on the table face down. You stare at the back of his head, like if you stare hard enough you’ll be able to tell what he’s thinking. Taking his silence as not wanting to talk, you continue on. You don’t want to pressure him to confide with you, not when he already has a wife for that.

As your hands continue to move over Art's tense shoulders, he lets out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "I need you,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with an unexpected vulnerability. He shifts on the table, leaning up to look you in the eye; his own eyes are watery, lashes clumped together with unshed tears. “It's not just the massages. I need you in my life, no more of this half-assed bullshit. I need all of you.”

You feel your whole world turn upside down in a single second, the distinct feeling of your heart lurching out of your chest and your stomach dropping to your feet. It’s like the walls of the room start moving in on you, caging you in. It makes your chest feel tight, breath coming out in short jagged rasps. Panic grips you, and you violently rip your hands off Art’s body, stumbling back from the massage table.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't," you stammer, voice choked with emotion, as you turn to flee from the room, not even bothering to grab your stuff. But before you could escape, Art was right behind you, reaching out to catch your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. "Please don't go, please," he begs, his eyes pleading with you to stay and talk. You wrench your hand free and run out of the room.

You think you hear Art calling out your name through all the static rushing through your ears, but you’re not sure, and you don’t look back to check. Your feet pound against the tile as you run out of the pool house feeling like you’re about to throw up, or pass out. Art’s confession is the only thing running through your mind. The only thing that’s still clear through your dizzying panic.

You finally start to breathe again when you burst into the house, leaning back against the cool glass of the door to try and relax before you start to spiral. The silence inside is almost oppressive, the only sound the rapid thudding of your heart in your ears. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down, to find some semblance of control.

Your name being said grabs your attention, and you open your eyes to find Tashi at the top of the stairs.

“Is everything okay? I heard the door slam.” Her expression is a mix of concern and confusion as she takes a few steps down. You push yourself off the door, you need to leave as soon as possible, before Tashi can reach you and coerce you into staying.

“Everything's fine!” Your voice sounds shaky despite your best efforts to calm yourself, you’re basically speed walking to the door. “I just, I got a phone call, and I need to leave. Right now. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t even wait for her to reply before you’re yanking the door open and rushing outside. You hope to God that she doesn’t follow you outside. She doesn’t.

You walk, arms wrapped around yourself tightly in a feeble attempt to stop shaking. There are tears burning your eyes and making everything in front of you blurry. The wind whips your hair around your face, stinging your cheeks as you walk further away from the house.

Each step feels heavier, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to make sense of the storm inside you. The chaotic weather seems to mock your turmoil, perfectly matching the chaos you feel. You struggle to piece together what just happened, the intensity of Art’s words echoing in your mind.

“I need you.”

His voice had been so raw, so vulnerable, and it scared you. You weren’t ready for that kind of emotion, that kind of responsibility, that kind of guilt. The weight of it had sent you running, and now you’re left grappling with the aftermath.

Fuck.

A LITTLE MORE THAN SIX HOURS LATER…

The drive home was a blur. Rain and wind beating against the windshield nearly the whole time. You’d laugh at how ironic it was, like God’s punishing you with shitty weather, but you’re too busy fighting tears to find the humor in it.

The dread didn’t set in until you got home, stumbling through the front door on shaky legs until you reached your kitchen where you promptly emptied everything in your stomach into your trash. After you force yourself into the shower to wash the rain, and guilt, off of your skin. You scrub yourself raw, skin pink and sensitive to the touch, like that will somehow erase all that you’ve done.

When you finally step out, the bathroom mirror is fogged, a ghostly reflection staring back at you through the mist. You avoid its gaze, wrapping yourself in a towel and padding through your room to collapse onto your bed. The silence of the house presses in on you, letting your thoughts consume you.

Art’s words play on a loop inside your head, the look on his face burned to the forefront of your mind. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, rocking you with its intensity. Running away had seemed like the only option at the time, a knee-jerk reaction to the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to engulf you.

You know you didn’t run from Art because you don’t want him, you ran because there’s nothing you want more. In the aftermath, running felt less like a choice and more like an instinctual response to the storm of emotions threatening to consume you whole since the first day you met him. Every step away from Art was a battle against the gravitational pull of your desires, a struggle against the overwhelming urge to surrender to what you both shared.

The truth is crystal clear: you didn't run from Art because you're devoid of feelings for him. You ran precisely because your heart beats in synchrony with his, because the depth of your longing for him is as boundless as the universe itself.

Your phone pings from the dresser, you ignore it. A second later, it pings again, and again, and again. You furrow your brows, glaring at your nightstand until you reach over and pick up your phone. It’s an unknown number, but you know who it is.

UNKNOWN NUMBER I need to see you. Please, I can send a car. It's Art. Tashi isn’t home tonight.

Maybe you’re the worst person in the world, but all the fight leaves your body the second you read Art’s texts. You need to see him as much as he needs to see you. Your fingers type out a response before you can think twice.

Art okay.

You send him your address, jumping out of bed to throw on the first things you see. A black SUV was waiting for you as soon as you got downstairs, just as promised. You climbed in after getting confirmation from the driver, and sat in the backseat quietly as you went down the familiar streets.

As the house comes into view, you can see the front door’s light is still on, waiting for you. You barely wait for the car to stop before you’re opening the car door and stepping outside. The rain immediately drenches you, seeping through your thin sleep clothes. You take two steps before the front door swings open and Art comes rushing out into the rain. He’s only wearing sleep pants, his bare feet smack wetly on the concrete as he runs to you.

Art stops short of you, hesitating, like he doesn’t know whether to touch you or not. You want him to touch you so bad you’re scared it might kill you. The air between you feels charged, every drop of rain a tiny spark. Finally, Art reaches out, his hand trembling as he brushes a soaked strand of hair from your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you step closer, collapsing into his arms. The rain continues to fall around you, but at this moment, it’s just the two of you.

"Art," you breathe, your voice trembling. "What are we doing?"

He gazes into your eyes, the raw emotion in his expression mirroring your own. "I don't know," he admits, his hands gently sliding down to your shoulders. "But I can't let you go. Not now." His words hang between you, a fragile thread of honesty that binds you together. You can feel the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his words sink in. The honesty in his gaze, the desperation in his touch—it all overwhelms you, leaving you breathless. The only thing you can think of, the only thing that feels right, is kissing him. So you do.

You lean closer, your heart pounding in your chest, and gently cup his face in your hands. His eyes widen for a moment, a flicker of surprise mingling with the intensity of his emotions. Then, as if drawn together by an invisible force, your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative and sweet, a question and an answer all at once. His lips are cold and slightly trembling, matching the fluttering in your chest. You can taste the salt of your tears mingling with the sweetness of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours.

Gradually, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent and fervent, a silent expression of everything words can’t convey. Art’s arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his fingers threading through your hair. The heat between you intensifies, both your breath coming faster, mingling as the kiss grows hungrier.

Art’s heartbeat echoes against your chest, you can feel his grip on you getting tighter like he's scared of letting you go. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles as you press closer, your bodies molding together. His tongue flicks against your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them eagerly, welcoming him in. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of desperation and passion that makes your head spin. A soft moan escapes your lips, and he responds with a low growl, his hands roaming down your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Art,” you say in between kisses, panting into his slick, open mouth. “I need you to fuck me.”

You can feel Art’s whole body shiver, groaning unabashedly into your mouth like he’s dying for it. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally admit that.”

The two of you tear through the house, all tangled limbs and bumbling steps, you trail water all over the floor. Somewhere in the chaos you drop your phone and keys on the large kitchen island. Art refuses to let go of you to walk properly, blindly leading the way so he can keep kissing you breathless.

Art only stops kissing you when you finally make it to his bedroom, pulling away to wrestle the now soaked sleep pants off his legs. You follow by example and peel your shirt off, skin damp and cold but you could care less, not when Art’s pants are pooling at his ankles and he’s throwing his boxers carelessly over his shoulder.

“God,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t believe you're giving him this, “You’re so beautiful.”

The raw honesty in his tone has your cheeks burning, you cast your gaze to the floor instinctually, feeling too overwhelmed by his charged gaze raking over you. You can hear his feet softly padding against the floor, making his way closer. You watch his feet come to a complete stop in front of you, he takes a hold of your chin gently forcing you to look up at him.

His eyes, intense and unwavering, lock onto yours. “You’re fucking perfect.”

With a gentle push, Art lowers you onto the bed, his weight a comforting presence above you. He tilts your head back and kisses you breathless, one big hand sliding lower and lower on your stomach till he’s got his hand down the front of your shorts, he groans when his hand makes contact with your bare skin. You’d almost forgotten you hadn’t worn any underwear. His hand so close to your aching center has your breath hitching as you kiss, hips bucking up towards his palm.

You reach for his cock, an angry shade red and leaking steadily, but he catches your wrist before you can touch. You meet his eyes confused, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s been about me the whole time, baby. Let me fix that,” he whispers.

You nod your head wordlessly. You wouldn’t dream of denying him, not right now. He smiles, pecking your lips again before he starts to kiss his way downwards. He explores your body with his mouth with such care it has you shaking under every brush his lips. He kisses all down your jaw and neck, taking extra time on your chest to map out the skin of your breasts with his tongue. He circles your right nipple with the tip of his tongue a few times over before he takes it in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth gently. It has your back arching into his mouth, hands scrambling for a purchase on the silk sheets. One long finger slides around your entrance and dips inside, shallow, then deeper, stretching you slowly, carefully, while his other hand rubs your clit with light, gentle touches. “Is this good?” Art asks quietly, voice tinged slightly with insecurity, like you’re not completely unraveling because of him.

“God yes! Yes – fuck! – Art,” you mewl loudly, hips grinding down roughly onto his finger, desperate to take in more of him. You can feel him smile against your skin, pulling off to blow cool air over your hard nipple and repeating it all over again on your left. His finger slides through the wetness collecting in your hole, spreading it to your throbbing clit. He finally sinks a single finger into the warm, tight, heat of your cunt.

Art pulls away from your chest to kiss his way down your stomach, sliding lower and lower on the huge king size mattress, he doesn’t stop the rhythm of his fingers as he peels your shorts down your legs, tossing them aside. A guttural groan leaves his lips at the sight of your slick cunt parting over his fingers, taking them so well. He pitches forward like he can’t help himself, like his lips are magnetically drawn to your cunt, and presses a small kiss to your clit.

“Fuck!” You squeal and writhe as his finger fucks in and out of you, hands tangling in his messy hair, cheeks flushing at the sound of your leaking cunt squelching against his wrist with each thrust. Art's lips tighten over your clit, sucking for a brief second before he moves back to start laving his tongue over your cunt in careful, slightly clumsy, strokes. The sounds he's making, almost filthy slurping, accompanied by little moans now and then send small vibrations through you that shock your system, making you fist his hair even tighter.

Art’s lewd noises fill the air, mixing with your own moans to fill the room. His eyes stay closed for the most part, fluttering open every couple seconds to watch you fall apart. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around his head when you make eye contact, threatening to clamp around his ears and keep him there.

A sob tears from your throat when he adds another finger, then he curls them inside you and pulls back and god, shit, shit, fuck, fuck me, god, Art, please fuck me.

“Fuck me Art please fuck me I need it so bad please-” you ramble nonsensically, pulling at Art’s hair desperately. You can feel the warmth starting to pool in your stomach, but you don’t want to come on his tongue, or on his fingers, you want to come with him inside you.

Art lets you drag him up, the bottom half of his face is slick and shiny, drenched in your wetness. He makes his way up your body quickly, hands gripping tightly to your hips, not hesitating to kiss you even as your juices decorate his lips. You kiss back desperately, tasting yourself on his tongue. The head of his cock bumping against your twitching, empty hole has you whining.

“Fuck me, Art,” you breath hotly, hips canting up needily. “No condom, I’m on the pill. I want you to come inside me. Please, I need it.”

Slowly, he starts to sink in. Feeding you inch by inch torturously slow. He kisses you the whole time, greedily swallowing the moans flowing out of your mouth as he stretches your cunt on his thick cock. You grab at his shoulders like a lifeline, kissing back with everything you have.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he says through gritted teeth, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. “So fucking perfect for me, such a perfect pussy for my cock.”

“Move.” Is all you can manage to squeak out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders.

Art starts to move, thrusts slow and gentle, like he’s easing you into it. You’re grateful for it, you’ve never taken anyone as big as him. Slowly, his thrusts speed up, cut hips smacking against the fat of your ass a little rougher than before. You revel in it, pushing your ass back greedily for more more more. From this angle, the thick head of his cock drags against your g-spot perfectly every time he plunges back into your dripping cunt.

“Shit! Right there, don’t stop,” you slur breathlessly, feeling the familiar warmth swirling through your stomach as he fucks you.

“I love you.” Art confesses against your lips, his breath hot and erratic. His sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he pounds in and out of you, the motion both relentless and tender. His eyes are wide open now, so blue and so big and so honest as they bore into yours so intensely it’s suffocating.

It’s soon, it’s way too soon. You’ve barely known each other for a couple months, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest, mingling with the heat of the moment, making everything feel both overwhelming and perfect.

Now that you're here, with Art’s cock fitting so perfectly in the wet heat of your cunt, you can’t believe it took you this long. You love Art. You’ve been in love with Art since the first time he spoke to you. Since the first time he touched you like you were the solution to all his problems.

Art must take your stunned silence as rejection, head falling to rest on your shoulder dejectedly, but his hips don’t slow their rhythm. If anything he speeds up, hips thrusting against you desperately.

“Please, please say it back,” he begs, voice thick with emotion, “Say it back, I need to hear you say it. Please,”

You surge up, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you can, ankles locking together across his back. Art couldn’t pull out of you if he wanted to, judging from the long whine he lets out, he doesn’t mind.

“I love you, Art” You whisper back, barely audible over the lewd slap of his hips stinging your ass. Art groans so loudly you can feel it reverberating off the sensitive skin of your neck.

Hips speeding up even faster, Art turns his head to catch your lips in a searing kiss. This kiss is different than any of the other ones you’ve shared tonight, full of so much emotion and unspoken words. You swear you feel your heart grow three sizes, almost full and threatening to break out of your chest.

“I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come,” he breathes between kisses. You can only moan in response, right on the brink of your own orgasm. His hips start to lose their rhythm as he chases it, fucking into you faster and harder.

Art’s cock gives a final twitch inside you before his hips are stilling and he’s coming with a broken moan, unloading everything he has into you. You’re right behind him, vision whiting out as you come, thighs shaking where they’re draped around his hips.

Art collapses onto you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high of your orgasm’s. You lay like that for a while, heaving and sweaty wrapped up in each other's arms. You feel something slot into place, something that you’ve been missing.

Art’s soft voice pierces through the afterglow, “Will you hold me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, circling your arms around his shoulders.

…

When you wake up hours later you’re beyond thirsty, dehydrated from all the crying, and maybe from the sex. Art’s head is laying across your bare chest, tousled hair tickling your jaw and arms snug around your waist. He looks so peaceful, eyes closed with his long lashes fanning over his cheeks. The sound of his steady breathing is almost enough to lull you right back to sleep. You smile softly, running your hands through his hair slowly. Savoring how at peace he looks, so different from the battered, broken man you met.

You slip out of his arms as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake him. Rolling out of bed to search half-assedly for your clothes in the darkness. You can’t find your shirt, only your underwear and shorts. You notice a red shirt strewn over the dresser next to the bed, illuminated by the moonlight pouring through the blinds. You pick it up without thinking, it's soft in your hands, the fabric thin and worn down. You toss it on before padding out of the bedroom.

You get a little lost in your thoughts as you make your way to the kitchen, Art loves you.

The thought has you biting back a giddy smile. Art loves you and you love him too. It sounds fucking crazy, but you know it’s true. Your life is so completely fucked, you don’t know if you care.

Art loves you.

Your smile doesn’t leave your lips as you turn the corner, arms wrapped around yourself tightly, the warmth of Art's affection lingering like a gentle caress.

“He smiles more.”

The soft voice ringing out from your left makes you stop in your tracks. You turn, and there in the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow of the ceiling light, like an angel, is Tashi Duncan.

Tashi looks at you from her spot across the room with an impassive look on her face, she’s got your keys in one hand, fiddling with them boredly. When you don't reply she speaks again, "He's playing better, won the last three tournaments he was in." She says casually, setting her half full wine glass down on the island.

You don't need to ask her who "he" is.

You're silent for a few more beats as she stares at you expectantly, silently urging you to say something. You rack your brain for a response, caught like a deer in headlights under Tashi's gaze.

"What?" you softly mutter, words cutting through the air weakly.

Tashi sighs in exasperation, like you're a child who doesn't understand the simple question she's asking. She raises her wine glass back to her lips, draining the rest of it before setting it down once more and making her way over to you.

You know you should flee, make a break for the door before she reaches you. Running away from the woman whose husband you’re fucking - whose husband you just got done fucking, and who told you he loved you - while she pays you seems like the easiest thing to do in the moment, but you don't.

You find yourself glued to the spot as Tashi's commanding presence looms over you, until she's all you can see. Until her expensive smelling perfume is all you can breathe, until she's towering over you, miles of soft skin on display in a classy black nightie.

She stares down at you, her face completely unreadable. It feels like hours as her brown eyes burn into yours, your heart must be beating a thousand beats per second.

When Tashi finally moves, it’s her hand you see rising up in your peripheral vision. At first you think she's going to hit you, get you back for sleeping with her husband, for falling in love with her husband. You tense up, bracing for the slap, it would be the least of what you deserve, but it never comes.

Instead, Tashi's hand finds its way up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. You can feel the chilled metal of her wedding band make contact with your warm skin.

You feel like you might pass out staring into the eyes of Tashi Duncan. Everything you ever wanted in high school flashing rapidly right before your eyes.

If Art Donaldson is the sun, Tashi is the moon. Her light draws you in and keeps you looking at her, and never wanting to look away.

Her thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same lip that’s kissed her husband. Ever so slightly, she pushes the tip of her thumb into your parted lips, far enough to touch your bottom teeth. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening in shock, your pulse is fluttering wildly. You distantly wonder if she can feel it on the inside of her wrist.

“I’m his coach, I need to be hard on him or he fails. I refuse to let him fail,” she says softly, tone casual like she’s not brushing the tip of your tongue with her fingers. “But I’m not stupid, I know what he needs. Someone sweet, someone gentle, someone who looks at him and doesn’t see tennis.”

You couldn’t answer her if you wanted to, but you wouldn’t trust yourself to speak anyway. You feel far away and floaty the longer her fingers sit in your mouth, your brain feels like molasses.

“I can’t give him what he needs. I’m not that kind of person,” Tashi says, eyes roaming your face languidly, like she’s window shopping your features. Her voice is nearly a whisper the next time she speaks, “but you are. You could be that for him.”

Your heart drops, the haze surrounding your brain rips away so violently, like someone took a leaf blower to it. Her words make everything start to fall into place, the at home visits, the “exclusive deal”, the weird ass run-ins you��ve had with her over the weeks.

This was never about the goddamn massages.

For a few seconds you both stay like that. Standing inches away from each other in the half-lit kitchen of her and Art's house. For a second, you think you can see the tiniest smile playing on her lips before she drops her hand from you completely.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside,” she says, still close enough that you can feel her breath fan over your face, “See you next Thursday."

Tashi turns on her heels and leaves you alone, disappearing down the long hallway leading to her and Art's bedroom. You watch the whole time she goes, until she completely fades into the shadows. Your lip still tingling from her touch.

There’s only one thing on your mind as you incredulously stare down the now empty hall…

These people are so fucking weird.

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junityy · 7 months

Text

🕸 — stay.

pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!

You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.

The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.

Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.

“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.

“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.

“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.

“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.

“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.

Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”

“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.

“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.

But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.

“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.

You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.

“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.

Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.

“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.

While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.

And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.

Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.

Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.

Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.

“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.

Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.

Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.

“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.

“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.

What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.

Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.

“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.

Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.

“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.

Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.

It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.

“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.

“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.

But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.

“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).

“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.

taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake scenarios #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #enhypen jake x reader #jake sim scenarios

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h4ndwr1tten · 2 months

Text

neighbor!toji x reader

this went on longer than i had planned...

cw: mentions of having a boyfriend, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of violence, strong language, kinda suggestive? also toji seems very ooc, he was the first person to come to mind when i thought of this. pretend he has money :D

neighbor!toji who is the only person to not welcome you to your new apartment. he only ever comes out at night and returns at the crack of dawn, so it made sense.

neighbor!toji who shut the door on your face when you tried to introduce yourself to him with the intention of asking for some eggs.

neighbor!toji who was so confused as to why you'd still flash him smiles or greet him good morning or goodnight when he had shown no interest in befriending you.

despite that fact pissing you off, you still tried your best to show no hostility in hopes of at least gaining some mutual respect. you valued your neighbors, you never know when you'd need them.

neighbor!toji who is surprised to see you bring a guy to your apartment. he wasn't surprised that you pulled someone—no, you were absolutely gorgeous, so it made sense. he was surprised by the nasty feeling that crawled into his ribcage after seeing you and him.

he figures it's your boyfriend, as he's been coming to your place for a good two months now. moreover, he's heard the moans (mostly male), groans (also mostly male), and the banging of the bed against the wall every few days.

the sound pisses him off. he becomes irrational and stops functioning.

neighbor!toji who, as he's stepping out for the night, sees you struggling to jam your key into the keyhole. he hears your sniffles and choked back sobs, watching you grow frustrated over the door. the keys fall from your shaking hands, which cover your eyes as you can no longer stifle your cries.

he walks over to you and picks up the keys, opening your door and carefully leading you in. you can't even manage to thank him, but he doesn't mind.

neighbor!toji who realizes he despises seeing you cry. he wasn't even your friend, but hearing and watching you only fed that nasty feeling that made its home in his chest, the one that would only ever come out around you.

he knocks on your door the next morning, a bag of groceries in his hand. he doesn't know what compelled him to buy things he thought, hoped would make you feel better. he's never made any move to speak to you, and he prays that you don't find it weird or turn him down now.

a click sounds from the other side of the door before opening, revealing a puffy, red-eyed you.

"toji?" you mutter, wiping your pink, tear-streaked cheeks. "what's going on?"

he stares at you, figuring out what to say without sounding like a desperate weirdo. what was he even desperate for?

"uh... i got ya snacks," he hands you the bag. "thought it'd make y'feel better."

you look down at the bag, seeing some of your favorite chips and sweets. did he notice those frequently being in your grocery bags every time you went shopping?

you tear up and bite your lip as you take the bag from him, attempting to smile out of gratitude.

"thanks, toji."

from then on, neighbor!toji offers you things every time you're upset. when he hears you cry through the thin walls, he'd bring you ramen or a movie he'd think you'd like, because he doesn't want to see you cry.

and because his heart sinks to his ass when you do.

neighbor!toji discovers one night that your boyfriend had cheated on you. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, but how could he not? you were crying again, but this time, it was over the phone with your best friend, and he finally understood your tears.

neighbor!toji who drops off some dinner for you, before stepping out for the night to who knows where.

he returns the next morning at your doorstep with breakfast, offering to eat with you. you gladly accept, the fact that he used to be so cold and unapproachable long forgotten.

when you switch on the news, a gasp escapes your lips as your ex-boyfriend is on the screen. it was reported that he was found brutally beaten in an alley, but there was no evidence pointing to who had delivered the blows.

"oh my gosh, toji! look!" you tell him, shock written all over your face. "who the hell did that?"

he stares at the screen, admiring his handiwork. he left him beaten because he believed that death was too peaceful for the man who deserved anything but. but for your sake, he acts equally as surprised and oblivious. "no idea, doll," he mutters.

neighbor!toji who, from then on, vows to never let anyone hurt you, vows to make you feel better when you're down. crying for the 26th time this week? no problem, he's right there holding you and sharing dinner with you. wanna talk shit about your shitty ex? of course, he was never worthy or good-looking enough for you anyway.

after a month and a half, neighbor!toji musters up the courage to ask you out to dinner. you blush as you take up his offer, and toji is internally running a marathon.

neighbor!toji shows up at your door on a friday at 7 pm, donned in a black button up and jeans, carrying a gorgeous bouquet of roses for you. when you open the door, you practically see hearts in his eyes. you blush—you've found that you blush a lot more around him—and take the bouquet, setting them in a vase before rejoining him. he adores you and how beautiful you look. not that he believes you are much more attractive when you're going out to dinner, he just finds himself thoroughly enjoying different sides of you.

boyfriend!toji who has ever since treated you way better than your shitty ex, or any shitty exes, ever did. he makes you laugh so hard your stomach hurts, makes you smile so much your cheeks are sore. plans dates that are so creative or relaxed, always leaving you excited for the next. fucks you so, so good, that you become the louder one in bed, rather than being silent (shitty ex reference). he patches you up and gifts you in a way no one else could; toji fulfills you.

you're glad he used to be cold.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #toji fluff #toji angst

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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 months

Text

Code to your heart

pairing: lee felix x amab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 12.5k

description: Felix pines over his oblivious coworker. But a new project at the office becomes a chance for him to get closer to his crush.

warning/s: swearing, time skips, masturbation, lots of mutual pining, mc and felix are both oblivious, oral, handjobs, cum swapping, kinda public sex, protected sex, bulge kink for a moment, dirty talk, praising, light bondage, lots of aftercare (lmk if i missed something)

a/n: i enjoyed imagining and writing this so much and i am so proud of it, i hope y'all enjoy this too!🥹🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

How long has it been since you haven't moved from your desk? Four, five, six hours? You've lost track of time, your brows are furrowed, eyes red from lack of sleep, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, nimble fingers gliding over the keyboard.

You haven't gotten up to get your coffee refilled yet or to eat. You didn't even notice your cup was almost empty. But Felix noticed.

He notices everything about you. Like how you only come to the office Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Those are the days he looks forward to the most. Your favorite color must be black because that's mostly what you wear. You have a favorite pair of jeans, black with rips on your thighs. Felix's eyes always linger a little longer on your legs when you wear those.

You take your coffee black too, your eyes always closed when you take the first sip. Felix's face scrunches up when he imagines the bitter taste of it. You run your hand through your hair multiple times whenever you're frustrated, only to have it fall back into your eyes. You bite your lower lip when you concentrate.

Felix could go on and on, and does that make him creepy? No, he is just observant and you're his favorite person to observe.

You're oblivious to this, not even sparing a single glance towards your secret admirer. Somehow, you always turn your brain into work mode, tunnel vision only for the two screens before you as you type out your code.

Felix doesn't mind this dynamic (if you could even call it that), he's too afraid to actually come up and talk to you. Looking at you from afar is kind of comforting. It's safe. It helps him get through the day. Whenever he's stressed about an error or a bug in his program, he can just look up, face almost completely hidden behind his screen as he glances at you, working a few tables away from him.

After all, the two of you do different things so you don't really cross paths or communicate a lot. Felix deals more with clients whereas you just like to put your headphones on and code. It's a safe space, you get to listen to your favorite music, be in your own little world, create from scratch, every word, number, symbol and parentheses typed out with vigor and purpose.

It's lovely to do work that fulfills you but it's also frustrating and lots of times it makes you want to pull your hair out or punch through your screen. But, it's nothing a good cup of strong coffee can't solve.

And Felix knows this. He knows that whenever you start feeling frustrated, you get up to get more coffee. He's at his desk, looking at you losing your mind. You're running your hand through your hair, biting your lip, shaking your leg. Something's got you worked up and Felix has been gathering his courage for three fucking months.

He's gonna do it. He will get up, get your coffee from the machine and he will bring it to you, strike up a conversation, maybe ask you out. His skin starts itching from nervousness and he has to get up right now, before he chickens out again.

Felix shuffles hurriedly to the machine, before you can get up and ruin his plan. He puts his coins into the machine and punches the button for black coffee. He glances back at you, your back now turned to him and he gulps as he looks at the broad expanse of your shoulders.

This really is not the right time to think about your shoulders or your arms, not when he's already so nervous to even come close to you. The machine beeps and Felix grabs the coffee, his heart leaping out his chest.

"Lix, hi!"- he almost bumps into his coworker Jisung as he turns around.

"Oh, hi Jisung."- Felix curses him in his mind. Wrong timing. Jisung is a blabbermouth and now he's going to ruin everything.

"Since when do you drink black coffee? I thought even dark chocolate was too strong for you."- Jisung smirks, poking fun at the poor boy.

"No, this is not for me. It's..."- Felix starts and then you're next to him suddenly. Well, next to the machine. And you drop your coins in and punch the button for the black coffee. Shit.

"It's what?"- Jisung tilts his head.

"Nothing, I gotta get back to my desk."- Felix mumbles, almost skipping back to his designated place, embarassment settling in his bones.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Jisung. Why did he have to come in the wrong moment? Stupid Felix. Why can't he just come up and talk to you like a normal person? He groans, hiding his face in his hands, his body shrinking behind his desk. And that stupid cup of black coffee staring at him, mocking his predicament.

He can't even bring himself to look up at you, he feels so embarassed, as if you can read his mind and know what his intentions were. Felix sighs, fingers gliding over his keyboard, you didn't even acknowledge his existence when you came up to the coffee machine. If you were interested in him even a little bit you'd probably strike up a conversation, Felix thinks. He sees you communicating with some of your colleagues, laughing with them and he wishes he was the one causing that laugh and twinkle in your eye.

It's been a week since Felix's lame attempt at talking to you and he's contemplating what to do again. Should he try the same thing? Should he just come up to you like a normal grown up and say something like 'hey, I think you're hot, wanna go out?'. No, there's no way he would ever do something so bold. With his luck, he would probably accidentally do or say something embarassing and you'd never talk to him again.

But his luck is about to change.

"Felix, I need to see you in my office."- his boss comes up to his desk.

"Oh, okay."- Felix nods, confused if he did something wrong. He glances at your desk, but you're not sitting there anymore.

He takes a deep breath in, preparing himself mentally for whatever awaits for him in his boss's office. What he least expects is to see you sitting in one of the chairs.

Felix stops in his tracks, legs turning to jelly, his heart beating hard against his chest, hands shaking. How to breathe? Because he feels like he can't remember the basic things his body automatically does.

You turn around and look at him, your eyes traveling from his feet to the top of his head and Felix feels scrutinized. Fuck, is his hair messy? Did he fuck up his eyeliner this morning? Does he have something between his teeth? Did he accidentally forget to change out of his pjs before coming to work?

Felix's feels like his last brain cells have just abandoned him.

"I'm sure you two already made acquaintances, Felix and Y/n."- your boss gestures between the two of you with his hands, smiling like nothing important is happening. Like you aren't just two steps away from him, and he can smell your cologne and it's making him feel dizzy.

"Yeah, sure."- you nod, a small polite smile on your face, your eyes unreadable. Felix's chest vibrates with nerves, excitement rushing through his veins. You've noticed him?

"Yeah!"- he says, a little too enthusiastic and then cringes internally at himself.

"Well that's good because we have a huge project coming up. I've been monitoring both of your work recently, and I've decided that coupled with the skills you two have, the time you put into your work and your results, you'd be my best people for this."- your boss says and is Felix dreaming? Is he dreaming? Because this can't be for real.

"These are the clients files, Felix you will take care of the promotion and marketing, Y/n you will take care of coding and implementing the product. Ofcourse, this isn't something only the two of you can do so I'm also assigning you a team. But I want the two of you to come up with ideas how to implement this because through your creative work, I can see you have a similar thought process."- your boss explains, giving you a folder of documents.

You seem unphased as you flip through the pages while Felix is literally melting into a puddle, he wants to scream, cry or claw at the wall, or possibly all of the above.

"Questions?"- your boss asks.

"When can we start?"- you ask, ready to tackle any task you've been given.

"As soon as possible."

Felix follows you as you make your way out of your boss's office.

"Wanna get started right away?"- you ask.

"Yeah, sure, I just finished the last assignment I had."- Felix answers, trying to calm himself down and hoping to all the gods that he looks normal on the outside.

You nod, making your way towards your table where you leave the folder.

"You want some coffee?"- you ask.

"Oh sure. With milk and three sugars."- Felix says and he swears you look disgusted for a moment before you turn around and leave for the coffee machine.

"Thanks!"- Felix calls behind you and you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

Felix doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know if you wanna work at your desk, his desk, or maybe one of the empty offices. He feels so awkward, scared that he'll embarass himself and look stupid in front of you, and he doesn't want to blow what might be his only chance.

He's startled from his thoughts by you putting the coffee cup on the table.

"Here, your coffee."- you say it pointedly.

"T-thank you."- Felix feels his face heating up as you stand so close to him.

"Maybe we should take one of the empty offices for more privacy."- you say, grabbing the folder and shrugging.

More privacy. Why would you say it like that? Felix starts freaking out as he reads between the lines.

"Y-yeah, sure."- he answers and both of you grab whatever you need from your desks before you walk into one of the empty offices.

As soon as you sit down, you take a sip of your coffee, your eyes closing like always and Felix steals a glance at you. He can't believe you're actually sitting so close to him.

After that first sip, you waste no time, going over the documents and requests of the client with Felix. The boss is proven to be right as the both of you start discussing the best way to approach this project, you agree on everything almost instantly.

For a few moments, Felix forgets how embarassed he is to be next to you as you keep your themes of conversation professional.

This is the first time you've actually taken a good look at Felix. Ofcourse, you'd say a polite 'hello' whenever you ran into him. You'd seen him at his table or walking around, talking to everyone, always wearing pastels, especially baby blue. When you're concentrated on your screen and he walks by, you see a bundle of blue just pass by your peripheral, leaving behind the sweet scent of his cologne.

You've also noticed that there's half eaten chocolate or candy on his desk always. You wonder if he has cavities with the amount of sugar he's eating, internally cringing at the thought of the artificial sugary taste.

You never noticed that he wears makeup, just a bit of eyeshadow, barely noticeable eyeliner and gems under his eyes. You never noticed that his face is full of freckles, reaching even up to his ears. You never noticed how plump his lips are, upper lip in the shape of a heart.

A thought runs through your mind; wow, he's really pretty.

Your heart skips a beat and you shake your head. No, you don't even want to entertain such thoughts. You don't want to start anything with anyone, you enjoy being alone and free, only having to care for your cat. Humans are complicated. You don't do complicated, unless it's a code. And even the most difficult algorithms are easier to you than people.

Business. That's what you're going to concentrate on. The task before you. You dismiss thoughts about Felix, almost ignoring his presence as you start working on a data flow chart.

Felix on the other hand, sweats profusely across from you. He's also working on his laptop but it feels awkward. He's used to yapping away with someone even while he works but you're so zeroed in on your screen that it seems like you don't even care that he's there.

How is it so easy to strike up conversation with anyone except you? Felix swears his brain turns to mush whenever he tries to formulate sentences in front of you.

"Felix? Are you listening?"- you wave your hand in front of his face, and oh my god you said his name. Felix perks up immediately, his neck and face burning up like a fucking forest fire as you stare at him.

"Um, you were saying?"- Felix fake coughs, trying to cover up that he was zoning out.

"I said I'm done with the flow chart. If you wanna look at it?"- you say, turning your laptop towards Felix.

"Oh right, sure."- Felix nods and you get up and sit next to him, sliding your laptop closer. Fuck fuck fuck. He can't do this, Felix has no idea how he'll take being so close to you, yet so far away.

"So, this is what I was thinking..."- you start explaining, and Felix listens, he really does but you smell so nice, your hair looks so soft and your knee bumps into his a few times. His insides turn into jelly but he makes himself listen. He can't afford to make a fool out of himself in front of you. He wants to impress you.

He concentrates and adds his input, and you stare at him as he talks, your eyes roaming all over his face. Just why are you looking at him like that?, Felix thinks as his heart beats out of his chest.

Your eyes fall to his lips as he keeps talking, and Felix sees your tongue dart out shortly and lick your bottom lip. Fuck.

"Anyways, yeah, so what do you think about that?"- Felix finishes.

"Sounds good. We're on the same wavelength. We should have a meeting with the rest of the team tomorrow. Jisung and Minho probably already went home. And I don't think Changbin is here today at all."- you conclude.

"Yeah, I agree."- stupid. 'Ask him out! Do it! Just say it!', Felix's brain screams at him.

"Looking forward to working with you, Felix."- you smile, a genuine smile, your hand reaching towards his.

"Yeah, me too!"- Felix beams at you, shaking your hand.

Something flutters in your stomach. Those damned butterflies! You get up as fast as you can, gathering your things because the office suddenly seems smaller than it did before.

"See you tomorrow."- you say, and turn around, speeding out the door before Felix can even react.

Felix sits there for another five to ten minutes, the smell of your cologne lingering around him, your voice still echoing in his ear, the feeling of your hand holding his still on his skin.

How can he recover from this?

The next day, you arrange a meeting with your coworkers. Felix wants to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve work with you. But it seems that being closer to you feels like you're even further away than you usually are, a few desks away from him and not acknowleding his existence.

You're concentrated on your coding, mostly talking to Minho and Changbin since they're programmers too. The three of you keep exchanging ideas and talking about things Felix doesn't understand as deeply as you do.

At the end of the day, you politely greet everyone and slip away like sand slipping away through his fingers.

And that happens every single day of you working together on the project.

Ten days later, Felix is becoming more and more frustrated, and today's been a particularly bad day all together and Felix makes mistakes the whole time.

"Are you even paying attention?! We're gonna be behind because of you."- Jisung rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Cut him some slack, Jisung."- you chime in before Felix can even open his mouth and hey, what the hell. You stood up for him! Felix feels like he can conquer the world, climb the highest mountain, dive the deepest sea, fly up into the sky and probably land on the Moon.

"Sorry."- Jisung mutters. "I'm just on edge."

"We all are."- Changbin adds and it's true. The client keeps changing and adding requests, and he's too particular about everything, making all of your team want to pull their hair out.

"Next week, I'll be working from home only. So, we can just use Zoom for meetings, okay?"- you announce at the end of the shift.

Felix is disappointed. Now, he's not even gonna see you for a whole damn week. He hasn't been without you for more than 2 days in the last few months and he doesn't know how he'll survive working without getting a dose of you.

Felix chooses to work from home that week too. His roommate and friend, Chan, is out of town so he can sit in his living room freely and type away.

He's on his couch, munching on some gummy candy as he works when suddenly he gets a notification to join a zoom meeting. He looks at it and freezes. Your name is on the screen.

He quickly fixes his hair, already embarassed that he's wearing some dumb gaming merch shirt, it's too late to change it right? Is the apartment even clean?, he thinks and looks around. The frame of what you'll see seems fine so he connects to the meeting.

Felix fully expects to see his other three teammates but it's just you. You on his screen. In a plain white shirt, your hair still wet presumably from a shower, posters on the wall behind you, lofi music playing somewhere in the background.

Fuck, you look delicious, Felix almost starts screaming at the screen. How can you be that gorgeous without even giving it any effort?

"Hey, sorry to pull you into a meeting without warning but I just wanted to go through some of the things we talked about on Friday with you."- you say.

"Yeah ofcourse! Don't apologize. I was working anyways."- Felix says, moving his hand and accidentally rustling the bag of gummies next to him.

"Are you munching on candy again?"- you ask, with a knowing smirk and Felix swallows. This is the first time you asked him anything that has nothing to do with work.

"Well yeah. Sugar fuels me."- Felix shrugs, flashing you a bright smile.

"You'll get cavities."- you shake your head.

"That's a problem for tomorrow."- Felix says and you chuckle. His heart hammers in his chest, he can't believe he made you laugh, even if it was just a small chuckle.

"Well then, let's talk about today's problem."- and there it is, back to work again.

Felix deflates a little but there is still a spark within him, a spark of hope for anything blossoming between you, even if it was just a friendship, he would be happy to be by your side.

You work through your ideas together, and Felix sees you're ready to end the meeting so he panics and attempts to make you stay on the call a little more.

"Why did you take a week to work remotely?"- he blurts out. Fucking cringe. Why did he ask something like that?! You probably have your own private reasons and now he's prying into your life like some kind of desperate fool.

You look taken aback by the question and Felix wishes his couch would open up and swallow him, making him disappear forever.

"Oh, well, my cat is sick. So, I have to take him to the vet and be with him while he gets better."- you answer, and Felix absolutely melts.

"You have a cat?"- he smiles at you and you nod, returning a smile.

"Dimples."- you say.

"What?"

"My cat's name. It's Dimples."- you chuckle, your cheeks becoming a little rosy. Felix screams internally. You're not only handsome and intelligent. You're fucking adorable.

"Don't ask."- you wave your hand as Felix opens his mouth.

"Can I see him?"- Felix beams at you.

"Oh, sure. Let me get him."- you say and get up.

Felix catches a glimpse of your sweatpants, his insides churning at the sight. He has some time to look around the room you are in, and he leans in closer to get all the details imprinted in his mind. The posters hung on your wall, a cool lamp in the corner, a bookshelf full of figurines and well books, a guitar case on the floor.

Your bed, slightly unmade, with black covers and a black fluffy blanket.

"Here he is. Mister Dimples."- you appear suddenly, startling Felix as he backs away from his laptop a little.

"Oh my god! He's adorable!"- Felix gasps.

"Isn't he just the prettiest?"- you say, eyes shining as you look at your cat and nuzzle into him. Dimples meows, trying to get out of your grasp, obviously not having it.

Felix doesn't know if he wants to squish you in that moment or if he wants to be squished by you.

"Alright, he's not in the mood right now."- you chuckle, letting Dimples hop out of your arms. "But, I swear he's a friendly cat usually."

"He's not like too sick? I mean, he'll be okay?"

"Oh, yeah he'll be fine."- you smile, some kind of intimate atmosphere settling between you and your coworker. Your stomach does that butterflies thing again and you panic.

"Well, anyways, revise what I sent you in that document and then we can continue tomorrow."- your demeanor changes and Felix straightens his back and nods.

"Sure!"

"Bye, Felix."- you say and end the meeting abruptly.

Felix sits still for a few moments. Did he do something wrong? Did he cross the line somehow? Did he make you uncomfortable?

He sighs as he opens up the document and pops another gummy in his mouth.

So what if he gets cavities.

On the other side of the screen, you're taking a few moments too. Seeing Felix without makeup, dressed casually, with his hair unkempt made you feel some type of way. He looked even prettier than he does at work, if that was even possible.

It's hard enough to resist talking to him every day at work, but now that you've seen him in a relaxed state like that, your mind races.

Images run through your mind and you wonder how his soft lips would feel against yours. How pretty his legs would look all wrapped around your waist. How sweet his moans of pleasure would sound if you had your way with him.

Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?

Felix can't sleep that evening. Now he knows what your room and your bed look like. Now he can really imagine one of his many scenarios. One that involves the two of you in your bed.

In his half-asleep state, Felix feels hot as he imagines you on top of him, his hand sliding down to the tent in his boxers. He imagines you taking complete control over him, your kisses demanding, hands bruising and hips unforgiving.

He wants to surrender himself completely, let you touch him however you want, fuck him however you want.

His hand wraps around his leaking cock and he wishes it was your hand squeezing him, demanding sweet release from him.

He lets himself moan loudly, hand speeding up, lost in the thoughts of you, your voice, your smell, your touch. Felix cums hard and as soon as he comes down from his high, shame rushes into his brain. He can't believe he just did that.

Monday. That dreadful day. Felix is afraid of facing you, like you'd know what he did. He didn't touch himself to the thought of you only once, not even twice, he did so three times. The things he imagined were getting more visceral every time and when he walks into the building and sees you getting coffee, he is mortified.

He hesitates, almost tripping over his feet as he slowly makes his way to you. You sense a presence and turn around only to be greeted by Felix's shiny eyes and freckled cheeks. Your face heats up and you turn back to the coffee machine again.

"Morning."- you mumble, avoiding to look at him. Fuck, why does he look especially pretty today? His hair is in a half updo, there's little shiny stars around his eyes and lipgloss on his lips. It's all sparkly and sugary but his eyes shine the most as he looks at you. You can't take it.

"Good morning!"- Felix says nervously, why did you turn away like that? Can you actually read minds?, Felix is panicking again. Can you see what he's been thinking about all week? He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass nearby, he put in extra effort today and even wore his favorite baby blue shirt. He hopes you'll notice.

"You're getting coffee too?"- you say, grabbing your cup, still avoiding to look at him, cursing those damn insects buzzing around in your stomach.

"Oh, yeah."- Felix accidentally zoned out again. He gulps when he notices that you're wearing those damn ripped jeans, they're so tight. He can't help his curious eyes as they flit towards the slight bulge in the middle, and he feels something coil in his stomach, his throat dry.

"I'll be in the office."- you break his stare and he gasps quietly, looking up at you. Thankfully, you were staring at your phone with your brows furrowed.

"Okay."- Felix nods as you spin on your heel and hurry across the room.

When he walks into the office, he notices it's just the two of you.

"Where is our team?"- Felix asks, sitting down and opening up his laptop.

"Changbin will be here shortly, around 10 I think. Jisung has a meeting. Minho has to work on another project today."- you say, checking the schedule as Felix admires your organization.

"So it's just the two of us."- you add quietly, and Felix catches a glimpse of a shy smile as you stare at your screen. His heart jumps, almost too hard, like it's leaping out towards you.

"Good. Okay. That's good."- Felix's leg bounces up from nervousness. You're already typing away and his eyes fall down to look at your hands.

That's when he notices it, a hair tye on your wrist. Now, that would be normal if it was a black one like you always wore, but this one is baby blue.

Is Felix imagining things or did you wear it on purpose because you know that that's his favorite color? His heart can't take the thought of that.

"Good morning, suckers!"- Jisung breaks the comfortable atmosphere, as you and Felix work while listening to some lofi hiphop mix.

"Morning, Ji."- Felix greets his coworker.

"Morning."- you say, not looking up from your laptop.

"It's not even 10 and I'm already exhausted."- Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Bad meeting?"- Felix asks, sipping on his sweet coffee.

"Bad client. Was on my ass the whole time. They bombarded me with messages last night! And then they found more shit to complain about this morning. Like I didn't have a whole sleepless week because of their project."- Jisung huffs, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Ah, I'm sorry Ji."- Felix says, and Jisung waves his hand.

"Minho's taking me on a little road trip this weekend so we good."- he smirks. "I just had to vent a little."

"Ooh, a road trip? That's so romantic."- Felix sighs, leaning his chin on his hand. You look up at him from your screen, his eyes shiny as he stares into the distance.

"When are you gonna get some?"- Jisung smirks.

Felix's face becomes as red as a tomato in record time when he hears you cough on the left of him.

"Anyways, I revised the last entry our client made. Should be able to upload the numbers into the database now."- you break the conversation and Felix can see your cheeks becoming rosy.

"Great work!"- Felix says, he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable and he definitely doesn't want Jisung talking about his non-existent sex life in front of you of all people.

"Thank you, Felix."- you smile, and Jisung looks up at the both of you.

Felix looks around, suddenly feeling like he's missing something.

"Oh! I forgot to bring my candy."- Felix whines and your eyes fall on his pouty, glossy lips. Images of you kissing that pout away run through your mind and your heart starts racing faster.

"Um... these are your favorite, right?"- you reach into your backpack and pull out a brand new bag of Felix's favorite candy. You have no idea what prompted you to do this but that damn bag of candy has been in your backpack for two whole weeks.

"Oh!"- Felix gasps, butterflies errupting in his stomach all the way to his chest where they flutter around his heart. "Yes, they are! You got them for me?"

"Well, yeah. I don't exactly have a sweet tooth."- you say, 'except for you', you think but bite your lip.

"That's... that's really nice of you. Thanks, y/n."- Felix is at a loss of words. "By the way, how's Dimples? Is he better?"

"Dimples?"- Jisung raises his eyebrow.

"My cat. Don't ask."- you shake your head and Felix giggles, and then cringes internally at himself.

"He was sick. And to answer your question, yes, he's good now. Back to normal. Zoomies and all."

"That's great news."- Felix smiles, feeling triumphant that he knows something more about you than your coworkers do.

Jisung observes the whole interaction, a knowing smirk on his face.

The project is almost done. Just a few more finishing touches. Felix fears that you'll go back to basically being strangers, passing by each other's desk when you go to get coffee.

The last week he's barely seen you, since you had no real need to come to the office. He's bummed and Jisung notices.

"Why so blue?"- he comes up to Felix. "Pun fully intended."- he motions towards Felix's blue sweater.

"I'm just tired."- the usual sparkle in his eyes is dim.

"It's y/n, isn't it? You've been ogling that man ever since the first day he walked into this building."- Jisung smirks. Damn him.

"What? I don't ogle. I... observe... and what's it to you anyways?"- Felix gets defensive, feeling embarassed that someone noticed his crush.

"Woah damn, I'm just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself these last few days."- Jisung points out.

"Sorry. I'm just worried... that we'll go back to being nothing. Not that we're anything special right now. But at least we talk. And I don't know, I- I like him a lot."

"Just like?"- Jisung smirks.

"Don't start, Ji."

"In my humble opinion, both of you are fucking idiots. Why don't you just talk to each other like normal grown-ups? If I never confessed to Minho, we wouldn't be enjoying our wonderful time together right now."

"Thanks, but no thanks."- Felix shakes his head making Jisung laugh. "I don't think he even looks at me that way."

"Oh so you're not just a coward, you're also blind."- Jisung snorts.

"Did you come here to insult me or comfort me?"- Felix smacks Jisung's arm.

"Ow! Both?"- Jisung rubs his arm. "You know what then? There's gonna be a party this weekend, more of a get-together actually. We will celebrate our project well done. That could be your chance to talk to y/n."- Jisung smirks.

"Ugh, I don't want to get intoxicated while trying to talk to him."- Felix cringes.

"Just two little drinks. To boost up your courage. What could go wrong?"

Everything. Everything can go wrong.

The evening starts out nicely, Felix put in even more effort to look pretty for you (even though you think he is beautiful always), his make up is sweet and sparkly, lips rosy and glossy. His outfit is cute too, hair in a half updo with a baby blue bow to top it all off.

You almost trip over nothing when you see him all dolled up like that, a bright smile on his face as he approaches you.

The two of you join Changbin, Minho and Jisung at a table. Everyone orders alcohol and everyone clinks their glasses together in the name of success and great teamwork.

There are more drinks sent to your table over and over again, you have no problems with that but Felix does. You're actually talking to him, probably buzzed from the alcohol and Felix tries to keep up with you, but he can't take all the alcohol well.

Pretty soon, the music seems distorted, the room is spinning and Felix's stomach churns.

You're talking about videogames you played in your childhood and as much as Felix enjoys this topic of conversation, he needs to tell you how he feels now.

"Y/n, there's something I have to- to tell you."- he hiccups, and you stop talking as you look at him. Felix swings a little, getting into your personal space and you can hear your heart hammering in your ears.

"Yeah?"- you say and he smiles a big dumb smile, his eyes closing as he starts chuckling.

Felix calms down after a few moments and opens his eyes.

"I'm-" - he starts and then his stomach betrays him as it rises up in his throat. And then everything is black.

Black covers. Posters on the wall. Figurines on the bookshelf. A cool lamp in the corner.

Felix squints as he looks around. No fucking way!

"Hey, you awake?"- your voice calls to him and he must be dreaming.

"What the hell?"- he whimpers as his head starts pounding.

You come closer to the bed and Felix looks up at you, still confused.

"You got shitfaced last night. Changbin left early. And then Jisung and Minho said they need to get something done but they never came back. I didn't really want to leave you alone so I brought you here. I hope that's okay."- you explain.

"Oh..."- Felix tries to remember what he did or said but his mind is blank. Then he notices he's wearing your shirt and he gasps.

"Oh my god... Did we...?"- he asks, heart pounding in his chest and your eyes widden, cheeks red in an instant.

"What?! No, no way. I mean not that I wouldn't want to... Just... Not like that... What am I even saying?"- you panic, and Felix can't believe what you just said.

"I'll go make you coffee."- you clear your throat. "Wait, I don't have any milk. Would you like a smoothie?"

"S-sure. Um... Did you change my clothes?"- Felix grips the blanket covering him.

"You puked all over them so..."

Oh that is so embarassing!, Felix curses himself as you disappear into the kitchen. How could he be so stupid and get so drunk that he didn't even remember anything?!

There is a lot he needs to process in this moment and he feels like his brain is not braining at all. He embarassed himself in front of you, he incovenienced you by making you take care of his stupid drunk ass, you literally saw him almost naked and not in the scenario he was imagining and now he's in your room. In your bed.

Everything around him smells like you and he's overwhelmed. Something stirs in his gut. God, please, not now!

"Hey, breakfast is done."- you appear in the doorway.

"Oh, I'll be right there. I just need to use the bathroom first."- you nod and show him where it is.

Your shirt is so big on him and he pulls it down even more, feeling exposed in his boxers. He makes his way to your bathroom and when he's done, he finds you in the kitchen. Your aparment is not too big but it's stylish and full of knick knacks that are just so you.

The sight of Felix in just your shirt makes your brain go haywire. His thighs look so plush and delicious, you just want to squeeze them.

"Um, do you have any pants I can wear?"- he asks as if he knew what you were thinking.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'll go find something."- you say, pushing the smoothie glass towards Felix.

"Thanks."- Felix whispers, he feels so awkward and his brain still can't wrap around the fact that he slept in your bed and that you made breakfast for him.

As he waits for you, he hears rustling to his right and he turns and sees your cat sniffing the air and checking him out.

"Oh, Dimples hello!"- Felix greets the cat, squatting down and beckoning him to come closer. Dimples shuffles towards him and after sniffing his hand, he immediately nuzzles into him.

"He likes you."- you say as you walk back in.

"I like him too."- Felix smiles up at you and you feel your face heat up.

"Here."- you give him some sweats to wear and he puts them on, having to tie them up tightly around his waist.

"So, how shitfaced did I get last night? I mean I don't remember anything, so I wanna know... What'd I say or do?"- Felix asks, already nervous. But it can't be that bad since you took him home and took care of him.

"Um... well..."- your face is beet red as you avoid Felix's eyes. Fuck, what did he do?

"You tried to... to kiss me."- you mumble and Felix freezes.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"- he panics, his face falling into his hands. Felix wishes he could erase his entire existence in that moment. "I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that!"

"Really? Cause you also kinda told me that you're in love with me."- you deadpan.

Felix can't believe he fucked up this bad.

He feels like he could cry right now. And he probably will, his eyes are already watering and he buries his face as deep as he can into his palms.

"Felix? Are you crying?"- you ask cautiously, trying to look at him.

"No."- he says, his voice muffled. "Yes."- he adds, and looks up at you, a single tear streaming down his freckled cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I fucked everything up and I feel so embarassed. I literally dumped all my emotions on you and tried to kiss you. I would totally understand if you don't feel comfortable with me anymore."- Felix sniffles.

You stare at him for a few moments before you start chuckling. His eyes widden as he looks at you.

"You didn't fuck anything up. If I wasn't comfortable, I wouldn't bring you here, would I?"

"No?"- Felix shakes his head.

"Look, I turned you down becase you were drunk and I didn't want us to do something only to have you regret it in the morning. If I was ever gonna make a move on you, I'd do it while we're both sober, preferably."- you chuckle, your cheeks rosy again.

"You... what?"

"Even though I tried do deny it, I couldn't. I... like you too Felix."- you say. Felix thinks his hearing has gone bad or he's hallucinating.

"But, I would like for us to be friends first. I- I need time to warm up to people. If that's okay with you."

This is it. Almost seven months of fucking pining for you and daydreaming 24/7, you are the one to confess to Felix.

He can't help the huge smile spreading on his face.

"I'm totally okay with that! More than okay!"

As Felix comes to find out, you weren't joking when you said you need time to warm up to people.

It's been almost 6 months since he drunkenly confessed to you, and your relationship hasn't upgraded much since then. At times he feels like your cat likes him more than you do.

Yes, you hang out outside of work now but it is not that different to Felix than hanging out with his other friends.

He feels hopeless again, you never even talk about that day like it didn't even happen. Did you forget about what he said? Did you not like him as he likes you anymore? How does that just come up in a conversation?

Felix doesn't know how to ask you, he sits contemplating at his desk. He catches a glimpse of you, getting up and greeting Minho. He doesn't do it on purpose but he overhears a part of your conversation.

"...you know for our dinner party on Friday. I have a date for you if you don't wanna come alone."- Minho said.

"Oh, I'm kinda seeing someone so that wont be a problem."- you say. What?

"Ooh, I didn't know that! Who's the lucky guy?"- Minho smirks.

"You'll see on Friday."

What the hell? Felix's heart drops to his stomach. That's why you haven't made a move on him. You're seeing someone. He knows it's probably dramatic but at that moment he feels like his whole world is crashing down around him.

His vision blurs and he stands up abruptly, turning around and making his way to the bathroom quickly.

Much to his dismay, the bathroom is occupied and he's not about to cry in front of his coworkers. He runs into the first empty office and closes the door. Tears are already running down his cheeks, and he tries to calm himself down. He can't be caught crying like this at work.

To his horror, the handle turns and the door creaks open.

He slowly turns around, eyes already red from crying and ofcourse it has to be you.

"Felix?! Are you okay?"- your concerned face turns into a face full of confusion as you come closer to him.

"No, I'm not."- he shakes his head.

"What's wrong?"- you reach out to touch his shoulder but he avoids it.

"D-don't. You're seeing someone, I bet they wouldn't like seeing you touching someone else."

"What? What are you talking about?"- your brows furrow.

"I overheard your conversation with Minho. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but it happened."

"Oh that."- you sigh. "I was- I was talking about you."

"Me? Aren't we hanging out as friends?"- Felix asks, sniffling and wiping his tears off.

"Yeah but I thought we were clear with our feelings."- you say and Felix chuckles.

"Oh my god, I am so stupid."- he rolls his eyes in disbelief.

"Were you crying because you thought I was going out with someone else?"

"Maybe."- Felix says, embarassment settling in. "I didn't know if you liked me anymore."

"I guess I have to do something to convince you I do then."- you say, gently laying your hand on his cheek. You slowly lean in closer and Felix's eyes widden.

Is this really happening?

Felix's lips part and yours press your lips into his, they mold together like they were made for each other.

Both of you stay still for a moment, Felix's eyelashes and cheeks are still wet and you bring your other hand to his cheek and gently swipe your thumb over his skin. You start moving your lips against his, and oh my god, you are kissing him.

Felix melts into you, kissing you back with everything he has, hands grabbing at your arms to help him ground himself because at this point he feels like if he doesn't hold on he will float away.

You wanted to give him an innocent kiss just to show him that you do actually see him as more than a friend but the pent up emotions both of you had bubbling inside you started spilling out.

Your mind is racing, Felix's lips are so soft and plump, they taste like the strawberry lipgloss he wears, the candy he loves the most and the sugary coffee he drinks every morning. Under any other circumstances, this much sugar would make you puke but with Felix you couldn't get enough.

Your hand holds the back of his neck, other hand sliding down to his waist. Felix whines, lips parting more and you lick his bottom lip to ask for permission.

He lets you in and your tongues dance together as you keep tasting him, both of you are grabbing at each other desperately, Felix's hands gripping your shirt as you pull him in closer.

"Felix..."- you whisper on his lips before you lean in to kiss his jaw, his breathing gets shaky, fingers digging into the material of your shirt.

You're in a trance, he's intoxicating and you wonder why you haven't kissed him before. Your lips press below his ear and Felix whimpers quietly, head falling back to give you access.

You kiss the soft skin on his neck, his sweet perfume making your pants tighten.

"Y/n..."- Felix moans when you lick at his neck and bite down, sucking on his skin. Your hands grip his hips and you push your middle into his.

"Ahh!"- he moans, grabbing at your arms again.

You lean back and look at him, both of your eyes glazed over with lust.

Felix looks down at the obvious tent in your pants and gulps. You smirk and run your hands to the back of his thighs. He gasps as you lift him up on the table, his legs falling open for you to slot your hips between his.

"I want to make you feel good."- you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

"Here?"- he swallows, glancing at the door.

"Right here."- you smirk, biting on your lip.

"Okay."- Felix is desperate, his hips are already lifting up towards you, his cock straining in his tight jeans.

You put your hands on his thighs, gently running them up and squeezing occasionally and Felix squirms. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down slowly as he lifts his ass up.

His heart is beating so fast and he can't believe this is happening. He's been dreaming about you for so long, dreaming of giving himself to you, belonging to you in every sense of that word. He's more than ready to let you do whatever you want with him.

You hook your fingers in his boxers and slowly slide them down too. His cock springs up from the confines and you wrap your fingers around him, tip already leaking with precum.

Felix keens at the sight of your big hand wrapped around his cock and he ruts up into it.

"Someone's eager."- you smirk, thumbing his slit.

"Ahh- I'm sorry!"- he whimpers.

"Don't be, I think that's sweet."- you say, squeezing him a little.

"Mm..."- Felix grips at the end of the table.

You give his cock a few tugs, your other hand on his inner thigh, squeezing the flesh.

"Please, please, oh my god!"- Felix whines desperately pushing up into your hand. He's touch starved and thirsty for you, he can't take any teasing. You understand and drop down to your knees and he gasps as he looks at you.

"W-what are you doing?"- he whimpers as you gently fondle his balls, your other hand moving on his tip.

"I'm taking care of you. Just relax."- you whisper, leaning in closer and pressing your lips on the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Felix mewls, completely surrendering to your touch, his mind gone from the stimulation you're giving him. You cover his thighs with pretty love bites, hands working on his cock and balls. You think he looks so beautiful in this moment, head thrown back, tongue lolling out of his plump lips, fingers gripping at the table, his legs spread wide and his cock leaking just for you.

You need to taste him so you lean in and wrap your lips around his tip.

"Ah, fuck!"- Felix whimpers loudly, clamping his hand over his lips and glancing at the door.

You smirk around his cock and take more of him in your mouth. Felix's moans are muffled by his hand and you're not having it. You reach up and gently grab his arm tugging it down.

"I want to hear you."- you say, releasing him with a pop.

"B-but people-"

"I don't care. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."- you look at him, eyes dark with lust and Felix whimpers, his cock twitching.

"Okay."- he nods and you take him in your mouth again, your hands roaming whatever part of his body you can reach. He gives in completely, leaning his body into you, lifting his legs up and pressing his heels into the table so you have full access to him.

You bob your head on him faster, no gag reflex as you practically swallow his smaller cock, the salty taste of his precum sweet on your tongue.

"Ah, y/n, I'm close!"- Felix whines, trying to push you away but you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you speed up even more.

His legs start shaking, heart beating hard against his chest, his thoughts are swimming with only you as he looks down at you. You may be kneeling in front of him, but to him you look demanding and authoritative as you play with his body.

It's like your eyes full of lust, lips wrapped around him and hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs are ordering him to cum for you. Whines of pleasure keep spilling from his lips, body shaking as he spasms and cums hard down your throat. You swallow almost all of it, savoring the taste of him.

You lift up immediately and grab his head, crashing your lips into his, tongue pushing into his mouth so you can make him taste himself.

Felix moans into your lips, eyes rolling back as he swallows some of his cum mixed with your saliva.

"Fuck."- you lean back, looking at him darkly.

"Fuck indeed."- Felix nods, still breathless.

"What about you?"- he asks, looking down at the bulge in your pants.

"S'okay. Don't worry about me. Next time."- you say as you caress his cheek gently.

"Are you sure? I want to please you."- he says and you just want to eat him up in that moment.

"You already did."- you smile and lean in, capturing his lips, giving him a kiss more gentle than the ones before.

"You free on Friday?"- you ask and Felix nods fervently.

"Great. I'll pick you up."- you say and give him another peck.

Felix must be having some sort of out-of-body experience as he gets ready on Friday. He still can't believe what happened in the office two days ago and he can't stop thinking about it.

Every time he remembers the way you looked at him, the way you handled him and the way you made him cum, he wants to giggle and kick his feet. He feels so giddy as he puts his outfit together, thinking how after dinner you'll take it off of him, his face gets red just from the images running through his mind.

You pick him up at 6:30, he sits in the passenger seat of your car and you lean in immediately and peck his lips.

"You look pretty."- you tell him, your stomach swarming with butterflies but by now you've decided to just go with the feeling.

"T-thank you. You look handsome."- Felix smiles sweetly at you, his cheeks rosy.

God, he'll be the death of you.

You arrive at Minho and Jisung's shared apartment on time and as soon as Jisung sees the two of you enter together, he yells.

"Aha! I fucking knew it! You owe me money, Changbin."- Jisung smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at his coworker.

Changbin groans in annoyance at him but smiles at the two of you.

"You two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, huh?"- Minho asks and Felix smacks his arm.

"Please, shut up!"- Felix whines, both of your faces red.

Your coworkers/friends don't stop teasing you throughout dinner anyways but you don't care anymore. Your attention is on Felix only, and he looks so pretty tonight, so delicate and sweet.

There's a growing need in the pit of your stomach, burning a fire inside your heart. You want him so bad.

"Hey, you wanna leave?"- you lean in to whisper in his ear as Jisung talks about some funny mishap that happened on a date with Minho.

"Oh, you wanna go home already?"- Felix looks at you, disappointment flashing in his eyes.

"No, I wanna take you home. To my house, I mean."- you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Oh... Oh! Okay! I want to!"- Felix says, cursing himself for acting so eager like he's desperate (he is).

"Well, this was fun and all but we gotta go. I have somewhere to be in the morning and Felix is sleepy, right?"- you look at him and Felix plays along, faking a yawn.

"Y'all can just say you wanna go home and fuck."- Jisung smirks.

"I'm never coming to your dinner party ever again."- Felix throws a piece of bread at Jisung, face red in embarassment and Jisung just laughs obnoxiously.

As soon as the two of you walk into your apartment, Dimples runs towards you meowing loudly and butting his head into yours and Felix's legs.

"He's hungry. As if I didn't feed the little gremlin before I went out tonight."- you shake your head, a fond smile dancing across your lips.

Felix chuckles and follows you into the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?"- you ask, after feeding your cat.

"No, thanks."- Felix says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Why does he feel so awkward suddenly? You must be feeling awkward too, as silence settles between the two of you.

Felix screams at himself on the inside, willing himself to make a move but you beat him to it as you step closer to him, cornering his body into the kitchen bar.

"Oh"- he gasps a little as he looks up at you.

"I know I said this before but you look so pretty tonight. I love the sparkles on your eyes. And the bow in your hair. It's very sweet."- you compliment him like it's nothing and Felix melts, his face turning into a tomato.

"T-thank you. I- I dressed up for you."- he says quietly, voice wavering at the end.

"You did, hm?"- you smirk, bringing your hand to his waist, your fingers brushing the exposed skin where his crop top rode up.

"Yeah."- Felix nods, his eyes fluttering as you caress his face and hold his waist. He leans into your hand and you lean closer to his candy lips.

"Can I kiss you?"- you whisper, breath hitting his skin.

"Please."- he says, relief painted in his deep voice.

You crash your lips into his, wasting no time for an intro as you pour all your passion into it. Felix becomes putty in your hands immediately, opening his mouth so you can explore him with your tongue.

You keep kissing, hands roaming all over each other before you hear Dimples meowing on the right. You part, chuckling and looking at the little cockblocker.

"Let's go to my room."- you say and Felix shivers, nodding as you grab his hand.

Dimples makes himself comfy on the couch and you pull Felix into your room, closing the door behind you.

"Now where were we?"- you smirk, hands tangling into Felix's soft hair.

"You were kissing me."- Felix smirks back at you and you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his neck. Felix's arms wrap around your waist as he leans his head back into your hand. You craddle his head and bite down hard on his skin, sucking a love mark into it.

"Mm..."- Felix moans, pushing his hips into you.

Your kisses keep getting more and more heated, your hands sliding down his back to grip his plush ass. You both stumble towards the bed, your back colliding with the shelf next to it, the figurines displayed on it rattling from the impact.

"Let me..."- Felix whispers before he kneels down, hands on your jeans button. You nod and he opens it up, unzipping them and sliding them down.

Felix's hand ghosts over your bulge tentatively and you push your hips towards his face. He can see that you're big and his cock twitches in his pants as he squeezes you through your boxers.

"Take them off."- you say and Felix complies immediately, fingers hooking in your underwear. As soon as he pulls it down your cock springs out slapping his face.

"Sorry."- you chuckle and Felix groans as he feels precum pooling in the panties he wore for you.

Fuck, you're so big! Felix prays to all the gods that he can fit you in his mouth somehow. His small hand wraps around the base of your cock, the tip of his tongue playing with your slit.

You can't wait anymore, you want to fuck his pretty face and see him gag on your dick.

"Open your mouth."- you order and Felix's eyes glaze over with lust as he opens his mouth for you. Your hand holds his head as you slowly push in, just the tip and a little more.

Felix moans around you immediately, eyes fluttering as he starts bobbing his head up and down, taking more and more of you each time.

"Fuck."- you look at him, his plump lips wrapped around you, his lipgloss staining your cock.

You grip his hair and Felix whines around you pushing himself to take more as his hand works the rest of it, he leans towards you and gags, tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so perfect with his mouth full of your cock.

"Ah, fuck. Just like that baby. You're doing so good."- you praise him, and Felix knows he's done for. His cock throbs for attention and he starts moving faster, sucking you off with everything he has, taking as much as he can, gagging and crying as he gives it his all.

You're close but you don't want to cum yet. Not until you've fucked him, so you pull him off of you and he whines, tongue chasing after your cock.

"Patience, baby."- you smirk at the state of him. He looks completely disheveled, his makeup is ruined and his cheeks are red, eyes dark with lust.

"P-please..."- he coughs a little.

"Tell me what you want."- you lean down to look at him, your hand still tangled in his hair.

"Touch me, please."- he begs.

"Get on the bed."- you say, helping him up and he obeys, laying down on your fluffy blanket. You kneel between his legs, hovering over him and Felix is so excited, reality feels so much better than all his imagination.

Your hands slide on his body and you take his top off, fingers play with his sensitive nipples as you kiss each and every freckle you find on his skin.

You take his pants off and your eyes darken with want when you see what he had on under them the whole time.

"Do you like it?"- Felix asks, batting his long eyelashes at you as your finger plays with the lacy hem on his panties.

"I love it."- you lick your lips, hands grabbing his thighs so you can push his legs up and keep them open for you.

"You're so hard and wet just from sucking my cock, hm?"- you ask, palming him hard without warning.

"Ahh!"- Felix moans, hands gripping at the blanket, hips lifting up into you.

"Mm yes, y/n."- he whines and you smirk, gripping at his panties. Felix looks down just in time to see you ripping them in half.

"Oh!"- he gasps and you grab his cock, giving it a few tugs.

"I want full access."- you smirk, grabbing the ruined panties and throwing them somewhere behind you.

"You have it."- Felix whispers, mind racing from the thought that he's finally at your mercy.

His knees are pressed to his shoulders and you grab a bottle of lube from your night stand drawer.

"Stop me at any time, okay? We don't have to do anything you don't want."- you say, caressing the back of his thigh gently.

"Okay."- he nods and you open the lube bottle, coating your fingers in it generously, letting it warm up a little before you press your fingertips on his fluttering hole.

"A-ah, y/n!"- Felix whines as you circle your fingers on his entrance.

You slowly start pushing in, meeting a little resistence as you bury your fingers into him. His eyes roll back and his cock twitches as you keep pushing in.

"You're sucking my fingers in."- you say and Felix whines in embarassment, it's been too long since anyone touched him or talked to him like that.

He covers his face with his hands as you start moving your fingers and curling them to hit the sweet spot inside him.

"You okay?"- you ask, hand coming up to touch his.

"Yeah, just embarassed."- Felix answers, peeking at you from between his fingers.

"Of what?"- you ask, slowing your fingers down.

"Just embarassed for myself in advance because I haven't done this in a long time and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."- Felix says as he moves his hands away.

"You don't have to do anything. Just keep your legs open like that and I'll do all the work. Your task is to enjoy and let me hear how much you're enjoying."- you smirk and press into his sweet spot.

"Oh!"- Felix shivers. "O-okay... Ah, whatever you want, y/n."- his head falls to the side as you keep hitting that spot over and over again, moans spilling from his pretty lips.

His legs start shaking and his cock twitches as you add another finger, stretching his tight little hole as you keep pushing deeper and faster.

"Oh my god!"- Felix whines but before he can cum, you pull your fingers out and he fists the blanket in frustration.

"Why'd you stop?"- he almost cries.

"I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside you."- you say, grabbing a condom you took out with the lube.

Felix looks down at your cock and gulps. He hopes he'll be able to take it, he wants to take it. He wants you so bad that he is willing to work extra hard just fo fit your dick inside him.

You roll the condom on, lubing up again because you really don't want to hurt Felix, you want to see him get lost in pleasure.

You rub your tip on his hole and Felix mewls, holding the backs of his thighs and looking down at your tip teasing him.

"You ready?"- you ask.

"Yes."- Felix nods and you slowly start pushing your cock into him.

His eyes roll back as you stretch him and you look down, biting your lip at the sight of his hole sucking your cock in.

Felix's eyes are closed and he lifts his hand up, blindly reaching out for you. You immediately grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, your other hand squeezing the back of his thigh.

He's whimpering so you stop and let him adjust for a moment.

"You okay?"- you ask, leaning down to look at his face, his nose scrunched up and brows furrowed.

"Yeah, it's just... I've never taken a cock this big."- he admits sheepishly and your face heats up, and the blood rushes down again making you impossibly hard.

"Oh yeah? You're doing so well, though."- you smirk, pushing the rest of your cock slowly inside him. Felix whines, gripping your hand and the blanket. Fuck, you're even bigger than in his fantasies and his whole body starts shivering with anticipation.

He looks at you, his eyes shining and you start moving slowly.

"Ah, you're so tight baby."- you say, hips moving in a rhythmic motion and Felix whimpers at the way you talk to him.

He feels so warm and tight, stretching just enough to have you fit snuggly into him, his flesh molding around your cock like it was made for you.

"You're taking me so well."- you praise him again, hips moving faster. His cock twitches at the praise and you smirk leaning down to kiss his neck, collarbone and play with his nipples.

"Ah, y/n!"- he moans as you circle one of his nipples with your tongue. Your hand ghosts over his thigh to his neglected cock and you grab him, moving your hand in time with your thrusts.

"F-fuck, oh god!"- Felix stutters out, his hips jerking up into your hand.

"Feels good, huh?"- you ask, fucking him harder, your cock hitting his g-spot.

"So good! So good!"- Felix cries out, holding your hand in a death grip but you don't care about that. All you care about is making him feel good.

"Please, faster!"- he whines.

"Faster?"- you tease, slowing down a little, your hand squeezing his cock, thumb sliding over his slit.

"P-please... please fuck me faster, y/n!"- he begs with tears in his eyes and you comply, hips snapping into his ass faster and harder.

Felix is a mess under you, he can't think anymore, all he can feel is you everywhere around him, above him and inside him. His free hand grabs at your shoulder, he wants to feel you even closer to him. You lean down and kiss him, swallowing the moans that are spilling from his pretty lips.

You release his cock for a moment, pressing down on his stomach where there's a bulge showing.

"Ah, you're in my guts."- Felix whimpers as he looks down at your hand.

"You like that, don't you?"- you grip his thighs and start fucking him harder again.

"Like being filled up with cock, hm?"- you say, watching Felix fall apart when you talk to him like that.

"Yes, yes I do!"- he moans loudly, your hips snapping into his hard again, hand working on his cock.

"Good boy."- you praise and the sound that comes from his lips sounds almost animalistic as his cock twitches in your hand. He's on the edge of his high, you can see that.

"My good boy."- you repeat and that's all it takes for Felix to explode all over himself while moaning your name. The sight of him shaking while you milk his cock dry brings you to your edge and you finish inside the condom, your hips stuttering and cock buried deep inside Felix's ass.

"Oh god."- he whimpers when you slowly pull out, taking off the condom.

Felix's vision is blurred from tears of pleasure and he brings his hands up to wipe them away.

"You okay?"- you hover over him.

"Yeah. Just need a moment."- he smiles at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead, your lips lingering on his hot skin.

"Where are you go-"

"Just relax, I'm gonna bring you some water and clean you up, okay?"- you brush your knuckles on his cheek gently and he nods.

Felix feels blissed out, eyes searching around your room as his legs finally relax. He hears rustling in the kitchen and you talking to Dimples, and he smiles to himself. He could get used to this.

You come back to your room, this time leaving the door ajar. Felix looks at you as you gently clean him up, his hair and makeup is ruined and you chuckle fondly as you take him in.

"What?"- he asks sheepishly.

"You're adorable."- you say and his face heats up.

"Shut up."- Felix whines in embarassment, covering his face with his hands and you laugh, leaning down and kissing his knuckles gently.

Dimples walks into the room, meowing curiously at the two of you right as you slip under the covers with Felix, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. He sighs and relaxes into you, his eyelids fluttering.

Dimples jumps up at the foot of the bed and curls up next to you.

"Is that Dimples?"- Felix asks, voice laced with sleep.

"Mhm."- you mutter, moving his hair out of his face and leaning down to kiss his cheek gently.

"Go to sleep, baby."- is the last thing Felix hears before he drifts off into dreamland.

The whole next week both you and Felix are walking around the office on cloud 9, and Jisung's constantly teasing the both of you like the annoying little shit that he is.

But nothing can ruin Felix's mood when he comes to the office in the morning and finds his favorite candy waiting for him at his desk. He smiles and sits down, eyes searching for you.

You're at your desk, deep into your screen and Felix wants to get up and greet you but he gets a notification from you.

He clicks on the message and sees a link and next to it: 'download and play this game. it's rlly short, you'll love it (hopefully)'. His eyebrows shoot up in excitement as he clicks on the link.

It downloads fast since it's short and he clicks on the candy icon, realizing it's his favorite candy, the one you leave for him on his desk every day.

When the game opens up, it says 'made by y/n for felix' and his heart leaps out of his chest. He clicks on the play button and is greeted by a little 2D pixelated world bursting with cute pastel colors, and a little character that looks exactly like him. Down to all the details, the bow he sometimes puts in his hair, the sparkly make up, freckles, his favorite blue shirt. He gasps and starts moving with the character, jumping over obstacles.

Huge pieces of his favorite candy start rolling into the screen and he obtains the ability to double jump so he can avoid getting hit by the candy.

He manages to get to the gate at the end and when he clicks on them, the door opens up and a character that looks exactly like you walks out, a cat following behind you.

A bubble pops up and it says: "you've obtained a boyfriend (and a cat)! how do you wish to proceed?" and there are two options under it that say 'keep playing' and 'quit'. Felix clicks on 'keep playing' and the screen fills up with hearts, candy and Mister Dimples, all of it exploding before his eyes until it shows yours and his character holding hands.

Felix is melting and smiling brightly, his face red and you get up, making your way towards his table. Felix looks up at you and you smile at him, leaning down, one hand on his table and the other around the back of his chair.

"That- that was so cute! I don't know what to say!"- Felix almost cries, in disbelief that you actually made a game to ask him to be your boyfriend.

"Just let me kiss you."- you say, your hand coming up to hold his chin, tilting his head up.

"Yes, please!"- Felix whimpers a little and you smirk leaning down to kiss his sweet lips.

"Meet me in the empty office before lunch."- you whisper in his ear and Felix nods, his stomach exploding with butterflies.

Felix didn't know what exactly to expect in the empty office but he didn't expect to be bended over the table, hands tied with his own shirt, your cock buried deep inside him.

"Ah fuck! Y/n, oh my god!"- Felix almost yells as you keep hitting his sweet spot repeatedly.

"Shh baby, you don't want anyone to come in and interrupt us."- you say, your big hand splayed on his lower back as you press him down.

"No, I don't."- he quickly shakes his head.

"You want me to keep fucking you, right?"

"Yes, yes please!"- Felix begs desperately as you halt your movements.

"Then just be quiet for me and take it, okay?"- your grip his tied wrists.

"Mm, yes."- Felix moans quietly and you start fucking him hard again, hands grabbing at his plush ass, hips and his pretty waist.

Felix's hands are balled into fists, and he bites his lip, almost drawing blood as he tries hard to keep his moans in.

"I'm close, I'm close!"- he whines.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Please, let me cum for you!"- Felix whimpers, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"You can cum."- you say and he explodes immediately, cumming untouched as your name spills from his lips like a prayer.

"What a good boy."- you praise him and feel him melt under you as you thrust harder into him, chasing your release and cumming into the condom.

You pull out and lean down, caressing his back.

"Lix? You okay?"- you ask.

"I've been fucked hard."- he says and you chuckle, fingers coming up to play with his hair. "But yeah, I'm okay. More than okay. If you could just untie me now."- he giggles and you smirk.

"Hmm, should I just keep you tied up like this?"- you tease and he whines.

"Alright, alright. I'm just joking."- you say, untying his hands and helping him lift up.

After you both clean up and get dressed, Felix grabs at your shirt and pulls you in closer.

"Wanna eat lunch together?"- you ask, craddling his head in your hands, fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yeah but before we leave the office, I wanna ask something."- Felix says.

"Yeah sure, anything."- you nod, caressing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Did you wear the baby blue hair tye on purpose?"- you didn't expect that question and you didn't expect him to notice that.

"Oh... that... Well, yeah. You always wear baby blue and I liked looking at it while I was working from home or away from you. It was kinda comforting."- you confess and Felix's face morphs into a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling more than ever.

"I love you."- he blurts out and then gasps as your eyes widden.

Your heart actually hurts from the love bursting inside you in that moment, and you grip Felix tightly.

"I love you."- you say, leaning your forehead on his and Felix visibly melts in your arms. You love him! He can die happy now!

You lean in, kissing the candy lips you became addicted to.

Who cares if you get cavities?

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

(y'all I actually wanna make the game mc makes for felix ahsjslsl)

527 notes · View notes

euovennia · 2 years

Note

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

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trappedinafantasy37 · 5 months

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I was just thinking how when you tell Minthara you love her, she responds with "I know". I used to think that she just has an unshakable confidence that you love her and she doesn't really need you to tell her cause, well, she knows. But, why does she never say it back?

She will show you she loves you by doing things for you like one shotting your enemies and soloing all the bosses for you. She also will very quickly give you affection when you ask (and she's hella aggressive about it). She will support you in every decision you make (even if she thinks you're making a stupid ass decision). But, why won't she just tell you she loves you?

Cause if she says it out loud, you become a target. That's how it is for Menzoberranzan drow, especially nobles. A drow who admits they love another will quickly find their lover killed as a means to hurt them. That's why they have to use roundabout ways to admitting love to each other without actually saying it. Plus, the word "love" just doesn't really exist in Menzoberranzan and most drow who live there don't know the concept. She refuses to say she loves you cause she's afraid that someone will kill you just to hurt her. And a lot of people (and gods) want to hurt her.

The only time in the game that I can think of where you tell her you love her is the reunion party. A party full of people she feels do not like or trust her. A party that she feels is an excellent opportunity for a poisoning. Minthara is definitely a product of her environment. Now, I don't think she actually thinks your friends would hurt you. But, she kinda just kicks into Noble Party Mode. And Noble Party Mode says: don't eat the foot, don't trust the guests, and don't tell your lover you love them because someone will hear you and do something about it. It's not a surprise that she's very anxious the entire time and wants to leave. (Another example is mentioned in a previous post of mine here where in a Karlach origin, a non romanced Minthara will use very roundabout language to admit she's in love with Karlach but never uses the word love. You can see that here)

And then there's 'alurlssrin', which basically means an unshaken, deep, passionate love. This is a word that belongs to Eilistraee and should be foreign to her, a word that she would be punished socially (or killed) for even knowing if she was still in Menzoberranzan. That is what she feels for you. She also says that she hopes the bond you share with her will last as long as you two live.

She says this before facing Orin, someone she deeply fears. She is going down into the temple terrified that she will never leave. She literally pulls you aside to tell you she loves you in the best way that she can, cause she's afraid that Orin will kill her and she'll never be able to tell you otherwise.

To sum it up, Minthara does love you. She loves you a lot. She loves you deeper and harder than any of the other companions will and with a burning passion. She wants to go where you go, do what you do, see what you see. It never crosses her mind that she'll be doing something in which you're not right fucking there with her. She won't say she loves you, she will never say she loves you, and it's because she does love you. When she follows up with "I know", she's not being arrogant or downplaying what you feel. She's trying to keep you safe.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #minthara #minthara baenre #nightwarden minthara #team raid the grove #yeah shes evil but she loves me

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rosenclaws · 13 days

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Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #worst!logan howlett

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makwebba · 7 months

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better than a podium l LN4

summary: lando could've won his first race in silverstone but he ended up not finishing. pairing: lando x gf!reader warnings: mentions of lando crashing and swearing. note: my first formula 1 fan fiction! not my first time writing fan fictions but it has been a couple of years since i wrote something and lately my love for writing is slowly coming back. the pictures are from pinterest and idk who the owners are so if you guys know the owner or if you are the owner, please lemme know :( also no hate on checo but it just kinda make sense cause he's in a red bull idk. dont come for me. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it!

- lando was leading the race in silverstone, his home race. you could've not been more prouder for your boyfriend, you were certain he was gonna win the race but not until checo hit the rear tyre of lando's car which cause him to spun out and hit the barrier. your heart sank, everything went numb and it felt like the world just stopped. it was a bad crash, you waited for his voice to come through the mclaren headset that's snugged onto your ear. "lando, are you okay, mate?" randy asked through the radio. you can hear him grunt and groan in agony, breaking your heart even further. you hated seeing him like this every time you come and watch him race. what felt like ages, the medical car finally showed up to retrieve him back to the garage. lando didn't even bother making any eye contact with anybody once he got to the garage, not even you. he just went straight back to his driver's room, hearing the door slam behind you. you sighed as you rubbed your face with your hands in frustration. you walked over to where he locked himself in, you didn't even have to see him to feel the tension that was building in the air as you knocked on the door. "lan...?" your voice muffled against the wooden barrier between you and lando. lando's eyes closed shut when he heard your voice behind the door, he always loved how soft spoken you were to him. he hasn't responded back to you as he stayed where he was sat before deciding opening the door for you. there he is. what he once was; a ray of sunlight beaming through the morning sun to becoming the loud rumbling sound of thunder at night. you furrowed your brows as you quickly but gently swift his hand up against yours while you closed the door behind you. "hey..." you whispered as you brought your hand up to his face, searching for his eyes. lando was not the type to cry but boy, he was just on the verge of losing it. you brought him into a tight embrace, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around your back. he held you tight as you started to hear him sniffle which ached your heart painfully. you had to fight your tears back because he hated seeing you be so empathetic for him whenever he had a bad race. "i was close... so fucking close..." he mumbled, his voice getting choked up. "i know, my love. i know." you slowly pulled away from him as he quickly wiped the tears building up in his eyes with the palm of his hand before it could stream down his face. you rubbed his arms for comfort as you stood before him, you finally managed to see his eyes. oh so beautiful but it was filled with so much anger and pain. "you did so well out there. and i know your fans wanted you to win as much as you do. we all did. but sometimes things just doesn't go our way..." you said, running your fingers through the side of his head, intertwining with his curls. "could never win a race, huh?" he muttered, moving your hand away from him. "i don't know why i got into this sport in the first place. not even good at it." it broke your heart to hear him talk so low about himself. you tilted your head slightly to the side as your brows furrowed when he moved your hand away from him, stopping you from running your fingers through his hair. you didn't let him get away from it when you placed both of your hands on his face, staring directly into his eyes. "you don't have to be a race winner to be a great driver. you are enough." lando looked back into your eyes which eased him a little. he took a deep breath in when his hand found a place down on your lower back, a soft smile appeared on his face which made you smile back at him.

it was that contagious. "in everyone's eyes you're a winner. to me you're a champion." a wave of warmth cruised all over lando's body when you said those words to him. it definitely hit a nerve in his system but in a good way. it didn't take long until lando pulled you in closer to him and placed his lips against yours, gentle and passionate. "i wouldn't know what i would've done if you weren't here..." he said. landonorris and ynusername

liked by mclaren, user1, user2 and 1,233,754 others landonorris shoulda woulda coulda, right? but i’ve got something better than a podium.

the end x

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris smau #lando norris imagines #lando norris imagine #makwebba fan fictions

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echoofadream · 4 months

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sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader

This is my first fanfiction so i don't know if it turned out to be what you wanted. It took very long to write and it was a tough process because I tried to make Geto's behavior as canonically accurate as I could. I also got carried away and kinda invented a plot and an OC? Not entirely sure, but I wanted to give the reader a name so your name in this one is Terumi Rei. If you like it and want me to make her an OC and give her a story and more depth please tell me! I hope you'll like it!

Synopsis: you're Geto's money-collecting monkey and one day you stop paying him so, instead of coming to kill you, he puts a curse on you. When you've had enough of both his curse and the fact that he wasn't coming to you, you go to his temple yourself.

Contains: smut, femdom!reader (woman, lady, miss, mommy), dub-con (??), masturbation (m!), oral (m! giving), p in v, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie, bondage?(hands tied with a belt), overstimulation, degradation, begging, mentions of murder (please tell me if I forgot to add anything else)

Being the CEO of one of the most known businesses in Japan had its perks...and its downsides. One of them were the disturbing dreams you've been having lately as a result of a certain man's bank account being, well, emptier than it should. Were you afraid? No. Were you mad? Extremely. You've slept three hours this week and it was Friday afternoon. You were stressed and tired and angry. So you did the most logical thing you could and that was paying him a visit.

The sound of your heels on the floors of the temple echoed as you made your way to his office. At some point you were, of course, stopped.

"May I help you, miss?"

In front of you stood a man. He was a foreigner, that much you could tell from the color of his skin and his poor accent. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in your outfit. A white dress shirt with a black vest on top, a tie around your neck and wide leg trousers. High heels matching the belt and the purse, and gold bracelets around your wrists, as well as manicured nails.

"You're rich, aren't you?" he asked with a smirk on his face. He wasn't looking you in the eyes right now, but you could tell that he had already figured out the reason you were there. He kept eyeing a certain spot behind you, the same grin on his face.

"I'm here to see your boss. I don't have time for your stupid questions. Let me pass" you say, your face more angered than expressionless, your tone more assertive than it should've been in the presence of a man who could kill you without breaking a sweat.

"You have a big mouth, lady. You should keep it shut more often" he says, becoming serious and looking into your eyes again, leaving alone the "inexistent" thing behind you.

"And you should let me pass. You wouldn't have half the stuff you have if it weren't for my money. Move"

He frowns but doesn't get to say anything more as the door behind him opens and a man wearing buddhist robes approaches the two of you, a close-eyed smile on his face. You cross your arms in front of you. He looked so careless. His face seemed relaxed, his body language wasn't threatening and he actually seemed in a good mood.

"Good afternoon, miss Terumi" he says, his tone gentle, as though he was happy to see you. "What do I owe the visit?"

You don't answer, instead you keep giving him the same ugly look which was contrasting his joyful expression. He sighs. "We shall talk inside my office then"

He starts walking towards the room he just exited and you follow him, annoyed at his demeanor. Once you closed the door you turned around to face him. In the meantime he had already made himself comfortable, sitting on his low pedestal, legs spread and elbow on his arm rest. This man was laying on the mat on the floor and he called this chamber an office. The fact that he lived in this world, so much more different than yours made you want to punch his smile off his face.

"What's behind me, Geto?" you ask, trying not to yell at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, miss. Though you look awful. Do you get enough sleep?" He faked his concern for you and that only annoyed you more.

"I would if I didn't have that thing haunting me" you say, lifting your right arm and pointing with your thumb behind yourself. Geto chuckles.

"It's on your left side" he says, visibly amused.

"I'd prefer it if it wasn't at all"

"Then pay me, miss Terumi" he says, smiling at you innocently as though putting a curse on you for not paying him was the morally right thing to do. In his mind it actually was.

You step closer to him, slightly struggling to walk over the tatami mats on the floor, since your heels were digging into the material. "I paid you 10 million yen last month. I'm in the middle of signing a contract and I can't afford to spend more money. I'm not giving you any"

His face darkens. "I suppose you don't value your life then" he says. The tension in the room begins to grow. There were only the two of you there, but it felt as though his piercing purple eyes weren't the only ones staring at you with ill meaning. Despite the heavy pressure you felt on your shoulders, you took a step closer to him. His eyes narrow and his mouth shapes in a disgusted manner, as though he just tasted something horrible.

"Don't come any closer, monkey!" he orders, his normally soft and gentle voice filled with disdain.

"You're utterly stupid, Geto"

His eyes open wide and he gets up from his seat, raising his voice. "What did you just say to me?!"

"You're deaf too?"

"You..." he starts, clenching his fists.

"I'd be dead by now if you wanted to kill me" you say, a smirk forming on your face. "Why am I breathing? I'm not giving you any money yet I'm still standing. Why?"

"Don't force my hand, monkey!"

"Firstly, I'm a public figure. If I disappear the police won't rest till they find me-"

"And you think I give a fuck?!"

You sigh. "Of course you don't. Why am I giving this monologue anyway? I'll be frank. I got fed up with your death threats. Give you money or I die. I'm done, Geto. I'm done with this. If you want my money you're gonna give me something in return"

He bursts out laughing, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Me? Give something...to you? Woman, you're alive because I allow it"

"And your girls have nice clothes because I gave you the money"

"Don't bring them into this!" the man snaps, pointing his fingers at you. "I have other means to get money. You're not special"

You stand there without saying anything. The smirk doesn't leave your face, and you cross your arms in front of you, as though you were waiting for a little boy to finish throwing his tantrum.

"I'm going to kill you"

"You don't sound convinced"

"I swear you monkeys are getting more and more stupid by the day! Do I have to say it more slowly so you could follow? I. Will. Kill. You. So give me the damn money if you want to leave unharmed"

You chuckle at his frustrated state, a hand going to cover your mouth. "Have I ever told you how handsome you are?" you ask.

"How the fuck is that relevant?" He raises an eyebrow and his body loosens up. As much as he wanted to believe he was a superior being, he was nothing but a human. And like all humans he lowered his guard the moment he was complimented.

"Answer my question" you tell him, one of your hands going to your neck and loosening the tie.

He scoffs. "No, you've never told me before. But I know I'm handsome. I don't need some monkey's validation to sleep well at night. Though you kinda need to please me if you want to sleep well at night"

You took a step forward, getting closer to him. Geto had made it very clear that he wanted you to keep the distance so he took a step back and tripped over the edge of his pedestal. He fell on the floor. The next sounds he heard were your laughter and his heart beat in his ears as he felt his face getting warmer.

He looked away and tried to get up, but the moment he placed his hand on the floor to lift himself you stepped on it with your heel. "What the fuck, woman!" he snaps.

Instead of answering, you crouch in front of him, one knee in between his legs and the other next to his thigh. He sighed in relief when you lifted your foot off his hand and he quickly brought it closer to his body, rubbing it with his other hand. When he lifted his gaze he was met with yours.

"You're beautiful, Suguru"

He gulps and his cheeks flush red. This was too easy.

"Get away from me..." he says, uncertainty palpable in his voice.

"The reason I stopped sending you money is the same reason for which you cursed me instead of killing me" you say, lifting your hand to try and touch his face.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Even though he sounded threatening this time, his red cheeks were telling a whole different story. For god's sake, he could push you off him. He could kill you right then and there. If he wanted.

You lean in, your face getting closer to his. When he shivered from your breath too close to his skin, you whispered in his ear. "We both want the same thing from each other and you know it"

"Fuck you..." he said, his voice barely audible but still full of hatred.

"Poor choice of words, Suguru"

"Don't call me tha-ahh!" He lets out a moan when your lips make contact with his neck, kissing it affectionately. "Fuck..."

"Be patient, Suguru. I'll fuck you soon"

"That's not wha-ahh I...wanted t-ahh...fu-..." Louder and sluttier sounds came out of his mouth as you started to lick his neck and gently bite on his skin. He grabbed your shoulder, but instead of pushing you away, he dug his fingers into it. If you looked more closely you could see that his arms were trebling as his whole body was squirming under your touch.

"Geto-sama, is everything fine?" He freezes when he hears Miguel's voice from the other side of the door. You chuckle and slide his robes off his shoulders.

"Mhm...ye-ah I'm...I'm fine! Everything's fine!" he answers, trying to make his voice seem as steady as possible.

"You're cute, Suguru" you compliment him, pulling away from his neck and caressing his cheek.

"Don't call me by my first name, you filthy monkey!" he snaps at you, voice full of spite.

"I suggest you keep quiet already" you tell him. Your face was serious now, no longer playing around. "You don't want them to hear you, do you?"

He frowns and looks away from you. He hated this. Not your touch, god forbid! He hated not knowing what he felt. He always thought that all non-sorcerers were inferior creatures, good only for giving him money and curses. Yet here you were, the money-collecting monkey. He shouldn't have gotten in this situation. You stopped paying him so he should've straight up come for you and give you the ultimatum and kill you once you refused to keep giving him money. But he couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason.

You grab his chin and force him to face you. His cheeks reddened once again at your gesture. "Keep quiet, will you?"

"Fuck you!" Wasn't he so stubborn? Wasn't he so cute when he insulted you trying to convince himself that he didn't crave the touch of a monkey.

You get up and take a few steps back, but before you realize his hand grabs your arm. He was looking away, gaze fixed on the floor. He sighed. "Don't go..."

You laugh and get closer once more. "Are you gonna be quiet?" you ask again and he nods. You kept smirking as you slid his robes all the way down and threw them on the floor behind you. You start moving your hands along his bare torso, groping him here and there.

"Will you stop playing around already?" he asks, not trying to hide his irritation.

"If you learn how to respect me then I might give you what you want" you reply in the same tone as him.

Suguru scoffs. "I'll never respect you"

"Then I won't fuck you"

He bites his lower lip in frustration. Why was it so fucking hard? "Sorry..." he mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't hear me" he replies annoyed.

You chuckle. "I'm just messing with you. I never thought you'd be so sensitive, Suguru"

"Just touch me already..." That was it. He finally said it. But, to his surprise, you didn't do it. He sighed. "Please...touch me..."

"That's better"

You push him on the floor, making him lay flat on his back. You stood up and started unbuckling your belt and taking off your pants in a hurry. Holding yourself back from taking him has been so difficult till now. You couldn't wait to finally have him.

When your pants were off you saw him rubbing his thighs together as he watched you undress. "What?" you ask.

"Nothing..." He looked away, as though if he didn't see you he'd also disappear from your line of sight. That was cute.

You grabbed the hem of your panties and slid them down your legs, finally taking them off and throwing them on the pile of clothes on the floor where they joined his robe and your trousers. You place your thighs on either side of his head and grab him by the hair so that he'll look where you wanted him to. Yet he kept his eyes closed.

"I won't sit on your face if you don't look at my pussy" you tell him.

He shakes his head. "No...this is humiliating. I don't wanna...I mean I want it but...I don't wanna see you do that."

"Too bad I'm not negotiating with you. Now open your damn eyes before I open them for you"

And he did. You saw small tears in the corner of his eyes as he looked at the sight before him. Your dripping pussy was on display above him, offering him the view of your arousal, showing him how badly you wanted him. His tears slide down his face and get his hair wet. "You look..." he starts, but suddenly stops himself.

"How do I look, Suguru?"

"Better than I've ever pictured you inside my head..." he replies, almost breathlessly. You smirk, thinking about what other fantasies this man probably had of you. But you had something more important to do right now so you saved that thought for later.

"Wanna eat my pussy?"

He bites his lip. God was this humiliating. He nods and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out. You don't waste any more time and lower your hips on his face. As soon as he felt you against his mouth he grabbed your thighs and started licking your folds, letting out soft moans and whimpers. You grabbed the wall in front of you, pulling on one of the signs attached to it and knocking it down.

"Fuck..." you cursed as you started grinding on his face. His tongue was doing god's work on your deprived clit. That was the least he could do for making you wait that long. "God...keep going mhm~...yeah, like that...fffuuuckk~ just like that!"

You felt his right hand leave your thigh and a couple of seconds later his sounds got louder. You looked behind you and saw his pants pulled down to his knees, his hand stroking his cock. "Oh my god..." He looked better than you've ever imagined. Lengthy veiny shaft, fat red tip leaking precum. It looked like it would hit all the right spots inside you. And you couldn't wait to use it like a dildo to get off while looking at this perfect man.

You got off his face, but his hand gripped your thigh harder, trying to hold you in place. "D-don't...'m not done..." He looked so fucked up. His hair was sweaty and he was panting like a dog. His tongue was stuck out and his mouth and chin were covered in your essence. What a sight he was.

"I'm gonna fuck you, Suguru. You want that?"

"Yes..."

"You need to learn to be more polite, darling" you tease.

"I won't be polite to you, monkey. Now sit on my fucking cock. I need it. Come on" He pushes you away from him, trying to make you do what he said. You sigh and get up, heading to the pile of clothes. You hated him with a passion but you were getting that cock one way or another and you heard the word "monkey" too many times today. Your sleep deprived brain wasn't gonna make it till evening if he kept saying it. You grabbed your panties and belt and returned to the man. He was laying on the floor like a fucking whore, ready for you to take him, legs spread and arms above his head and all that. You grabbed his wrists and wrapped the belt around them.

"Hey, what do you think you're do-" You shoved your panties inside his mouth then got on top of him again, positioning the tip of his dick against your entrance. You rubbed it along your clit a little, sighing contently as Suguru was squirming underneath you and thrusting his hips upwards.

"So impatient, Suguru..." you say, a big smile on your face now that you finally silenced him. Without any warning you lowered yourself on his cock, earning a high pitched moan from the man underneath you. Suguru threw his head back and started thrusting into you like a bitch in heat. Even if you were one hundred percent right and his cock was indeed filling you up perfectly, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl, you were still fed up with his attitude.

You leaned over him and took one of his nipples into your mouth and bit it hard, twisting the other between your fingers equally as painfully. It didn't give you the expected result. Instead of stopping his movements, he let out a scream so loud you could swear even the people outside his temple heard it. He raised his hips, lifting your whole body off the floor as he kept them still. And you felt something warm inside you.

You didn't even have time to realize that he just came from that, nor did you get to catch your breath when the voice of a young girl called out from outside the door.

"Geto-sama! What's taking you so long? You said we'd go to the aquarium!"

Both yours and Suguru's eyes widened in surprise. He let his ass fall back on the floor and you covered your mouth so you wouldn't moan when his cock hit your g-spot so fucking hard. You hurried to take the panties out of his mouth so he could answer the girl's question.

"I'm a little busy, dear" he answered, his voice hoarse. He coughed a little then spoke again. "We'll go! I have to finish...some paperwork...forgive me for making you wait"

How did he sound so calm while talking to his girl? You sighed. It was fucking Geto Suguru. You knew why.

"How many times have you been fucked in here, Geto?" you ask as soon as the girl's steps fade into the distance.

"So I'm not Suguru anymore, huh?" he asks, a smug grin on his face.

You frown. "Do you want me to put them back in that smart mouth of yours?"

"Maybe I do..."

You start riding him again all of a sudden, sending shocks of pleasure through his entire body as overstimulation starts taking over him. "Mhm... ngh-ahh... Ahh" he started moaning like a slut again. You wouldn't let him get away so soon. He needed to be taught a lesson. You were gonna fuck him like you hated him so he would learn never to disrespect you again.

"Nhgh-...ahh sensitive...ohh f-fuck...!"

"What? What is it, you slut? How many people have fucked you in here, huh? Answer!"

He shook his head as tears started to form in the corners of his eyes. God he was so pretty. The way he looked like such a slut, hair messy, toned body covered him sweat, your dry cum still on his face...

"I'll stop" you threaten him, "I'll stop if you don't tell me how many have fucked y-"

"No no n-ah ahh no NO! Don't f-ahh stop! Many...ngh-ahh many...!" he cried.

The sounds of skin against skin, the wet sound your pussy was making as you were sliding up and down his abused cock, his whorish moans and cries as another orgasm took over his entire being were the only noises present in the room. Your combined cum was sliding down his legs, wet spots already formed on the tatami mats underneath your bodies.

"Oh ahh~...f-ahh...ngh-ahh" he started sobbing, fat tears running down his pretty cheeks. The way his cock twitched inside you after the second high, hitting all the right spots as you used it to get off only contributed to the orgasm that was approaching you rapidly.

"I'm gonna cum, bitch" you tell him. "Gonna cum using you like all the other people you called over did" Your hand goes down and you start rubbing your clit, feeling your high engulfing your entire body.

It was hard to keep going right after but you still did. You had to punish this man for all the things he did and said to you. So you kept bouncing on that divine cock of his as cum was gathering in between the two of you and making everything so wet and lewd and dirty.

"I'm gonna make you cum till you forget your own name, whore!" you try to yell at him, but your words have been coming out as only moans and whimpers for the last ten minutes. Suguru kept sobbing underneath you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open, slutty whimpers and moans constantly coming out as his voice was getting more and more hoarse.

"Mhm~...ahh slower...f-ahh gon-...cum...hurts....slower...monkey"

You stopped. Your eyes were wide and you could feel the ager his words caused start flooding your body. "What did you just call me?!" you snap at him, feeling a strong desire to punch him in the face right then and there.

He looked at you and whimpered, moving his tied arms frantically. Tears were still streaming down his face as he looked at you with pleading eyes and a hurt expression.

"Mommy...I said mommy...you misheard me, I said mommy!" he whimpers.

You smirk and cover your face as you try not to burst into laughter. God he was so shameless when he wanted pussy, it was almost unbelievable.

"You wanna cum, Geto?" you ask him. Your mind was so tired you weren't even aware of half the things you were telling him.

"No!" he yells. "Not Geto, Suguru...Suguru, mommy...!"

You look at him dumbfounded and it takes a while to realize why he was saying his name. When you did you chuckled. "Yeah...you're right. Suguru. My Suguru. You get it?"

He nods rapidly. "Yes, yes, yes, yours. Wanna cum. Wanna cum, pretty please"

You smirk and start going up and down again, throwing your head back at the feeling of his fat tip harassing your sweet spot.

"Ngh-ahh thank you! Thank ahh-...ahh ngh-... thank you!" he whimpers, his third orgasm getting closer each time your soft walls squeezed his cock.

You weren't in a much better state yourself. Sweat was dripping down your face and body, the shirt you never took off so drenched it became see through. Your hand hurries to your clit to rub circles around it so you could feel that wave of pleasure engulf you once more.

"C-cum...! gon-ahh cum...!" Suguru sobbed.

"Cum whore! Fu-" you don't get to finish your sentence as you feel him shoot his warm cum inside your cunt. The feeling pushed you over the edge, making both of you cum at the same time.

You collapse on top of him and close your eyes. The sleepless nights and the intensity of what the two of you just did made you barely able to think, let alone get off him.

"Off!" he whimpers. "Off, off, off! Hurts! Please!"

His voice gets you out of your dizziness and you get off him, his cock slipping out of you so easily and making both of you whine. You lay on the floor next to him, both of you panting, the sweat on your bodies making you stick to each other. You tried your best not to fall asleep but you failed miserably. You were scared that he'd do something bad to you while you were sleeping. You needed to stay awake.

"Miss Terumi..." he starts but when he turns his head towards you he sees that you're already asleep. "I'm sorry..."

Tags: @megumisdivinedogs , @eclecticfirewitch , @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd , @memi067

#geto suguru #suguru geto smut #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen smut #sub geto #sub!character #sub character #sub jjk #dom reader #dom!reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #sub jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen

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