#i want a bed nook so bad

[angellcherry]

— home.

» pairing: jungkook x reader

» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw

» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”

» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare

His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.

He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.

"You weren't answering your phone..."

"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."

Jungkook shook his head.

"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...

It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.

"Can I get a shirt, please?"

He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, baby."

Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.

God, how could someone be so fucking cute?

You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?

He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.

While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.

"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.

Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.

"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.

"Hm, what about you?"

Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey."

You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.

"I missed you, too."

Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.

He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.

"So tiny."

Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.

A raw shade of red caught his attention.

Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.

His heart dropped.

It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?

Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.

He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.

"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.

"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."

You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.

"You can't help me either way."

Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.

"Baby—"

"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."

Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.

"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."

He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.

"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."

He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.

Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.

"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."

You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.

"I... I don't know..."

Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.

"But I know," he promised. "I know."

He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.

"Let me be there for you—"

You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?

Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.

"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"

There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.

"I— I..."

A pause, filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.

"I love you," he repeated.

His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.

He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.

"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."

There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.

But you cradled it instead.

Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —

"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.

It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.

He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.

A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.

He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.

He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.

Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.

But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.

Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.

His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.

He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.

He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.

So fucking small.

It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.

The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.

He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.

For a moment, time stood still.

His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.

"I missed you so much."

He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.

"I missed you too..."

You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.

"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."

He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.

But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.

"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."

He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.

Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"

The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.

"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"

Clench.

He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.

You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.

"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"

Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.

"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"

Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.

"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"

His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.

He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.

With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.

"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"

You hummed, snuggling into him.

"More than okay."

Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.

"I'll wash you up in a sec."

"In a bit... Stay with me."

"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."

Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.

He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.

Never again would he let you hurt like this.

And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.

This was all that mattered.

This was home.

[cobrakaisb]

come one, come all

summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked. 

word count: 3.2k

featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)

author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon

“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building. 

percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers. 

“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late. 

“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces. 

it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.

“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.

“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears. 

the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start. 

“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing. 

he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win. 

“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks. 

the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least. 

“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter. 

percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.

percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.

“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction. 

“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him. 

“luke treating you okay?” she asks. 

percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.  

“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder. 

you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what. 

“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction. 

percy nods, “yeah sure.” 

she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes. 

“meet me later?” she asks. 

“i’ll be there,” luke answers. 

she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?

hermes cabin, day two, morning

percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.  

“you okay?” luke asks. 

percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies. 

“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.

“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy. 

there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met. 

yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”

“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks. 

luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.” 

percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair. 

“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks. 

luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.” 

“what’s that?” percy asks. 

“glory.”

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod. 

“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends. 

“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in. 

percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places. 

“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention. 

she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him. 

“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles. 

the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger. 

clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space. 

“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on. 

“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies. 

luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. 

“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off. 

“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers. 

clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you. 

“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.

percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles. 

“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face. 

percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side. 

dining pavilion, day two, evening

“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris. 

after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.

luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.

“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate. 

“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy. 

another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations. 

luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you. 

“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks. 

“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all. 

the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief. 

“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin. 

“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father. 

you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother? 

“what?” he asks, looking around. 

“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork. 

“oh,” he says, “so who is?” 

percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face. 

“almost sweetheart,” he taunts. 

you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes. 

“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right. 

“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.

“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.” 

they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins. 

he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.

hermes cabin, day two, night

percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin. 

he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going. 

“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.

the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.

“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.

“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.

there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night: 

“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.” 

another pause. 

“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers. 

“if he gets claimed,” you reply. 

“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door. 

“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke. 

you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two. 

“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down. 

“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard. 

“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt. 

percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit. 

that seemed oddly intimate. 

lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag

he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin. 

luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you. 

your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes. 

percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke. 

“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you. 

you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.

all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you. 

“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular. 

“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him. 

he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him. 

“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse. 

“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[satoruhour]

i need jealous racer geto hes js so whudurieiw and the way u write about himm🤭🤭

LUVRGIRL

a/n: eeuuughh idk whether to like this or not but enjoy nonetheless !!! not so much of racing but the sentiment is there lol. previous part (lloromannic) here / @screampied @kizoken @t4kio @redskyvenus @mysugu @suguruplsr @slttygeto ✶

wc: 6.3k

warnings: racer!geto, soft dom!geto, fem!reader, sprinkle of fluff, pet names, praise, ldr, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), fantasising, daisuke is being annoying again!!!!, sorta jealousy plot point, brief dry humping, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, unprotected p -> v sex, breeding / creampie kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the next six months were torture, indefinitely. it was an endless heap of assignments, of deadlines, of long-distance calls with your love that you both were so close to booking flights of your own. university was brutal, too. on top of tuition fees and getting the materials for your classes, it was heart-wrenching to even look at the prices of the flights from your country to japan, so you bit down your pride and subjected yourself to settling for the long-distance arrangement.

“hey, baby,” geto mumbles sleepily and your frown deepens upon forgetting that tuesdays was where he slept early. you still had to call, though, but you realise it too late when he answers with that groggy, raspy voice of his. there’s some ruffling behind the call, no doubt the sounds of his bedsheets as he gets himself comfortable while you huddle at the small nook of your room that’s next to the window.

from here you can see the sun setting, a totally different story in japan where you can hear geto yawn and down a glass of water next to his bed.

“shit . . sorry su, i forgot—”

he scrambles to reassure you, awake and sat up, “no! no— no, it’s okay . .” you wince when you hear him yawn yet again, but this time he sounds a little more in the realm of consciousness. you’re unaware of the smile forming on his face just from hearing your voice, fidgety fingers squeezing and releasing the duvet over him, “what are you up to, my love?”

you hum into the phone and you’ve never wanted to backpack across the seven seas to see someone so bad before. now on month nine, your excitement’s become even more prominent at wanting to end the semester as soon as possible, willing your lips not to mutter out the arrangement you’ve been planning with his group of friends.

“just needed a break from studying for finals. i’m dying,” you lament over the line and your heart flutters at his chuckle, something you miss against your ears and skin immensely, “just wish you were here . .”

“yeah?” and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rub your thighs together at the soft, rough yeah he mumbles out. you can imagine it too: sitting against his headboard half-naked while the duvet pools around his waist area. he’s sitting there like plaster sculpted by Monti while his hair flows around him. you almost squeal and your boyfriend only catches just the start of it.

“what? what was that?” he asks and your hand is clasped so hard over your mouth like a captor’s got your hostage, but you only let out a breath.

“n-nothing,” you laugh, picking yourself up from the nook and getting yourself comfortable in bed. it’s been a long day of studying, anyway, and your next exam isn’t until five days later. you could afford some downtime, right?

“but,” you sigh, turning on your side and sneakily slipping a hand into your pants, “my day’s boring. it’s all studyin’. why don’t you tell me what you did today, instead?” you can hear your parents already preparing dinner outside, but you press on and try to drain out the intrusive noises of cutlery and porcelain and the incessant calls of your mom to your dad for some help on the stove. 

“alright,” he drags the word out and laughs again, getting comfortable in his bed just like you do, but your end goals are entirely different, “but it is pretty boring as well. it was maintenance day today.”

“oh!” you remember him briefly mentioning that the other day — since halloween was approaching, there was bound to be more patrolling policemen around the streets and underground, so races had to be put on hold for the meantime. there was still other more secluded areas to race, but geto didn’t want to risk his Mazda being taken away nor for a stain to appear on his clean academic record.

“changing the crankshaft? i know the old one was giving you loads of trouble,” you mumble, feeling your cunt pulse and throb from the breathing you can hear over the line, “among . . other things.”

“yeah, my baby’s so smart for remembering, huh?” he praises, continuing to go on about his day. while it was merely taking-care-of-his-car day, it was still way more eventful than yours. he had went on a solo day out to your beloved café to relish in the good times, he had hung out with gojo for a while and drank some beer atop the mountain they frequented, even went out for some arcade fun.

“unfortunately—” geto’s low voice spurs you on. you’ve been lazily rubbing at your pussy, just humming into the phone while you only descend more and more into pleasure, “it’s taken a hole out of my allowance, i guess. my dad’s more generous with the parts that he gives me but at the same time i feel like he knows what i’m doing underground.”

he laughs and you fake a giggle, but your breaths are starting to get heavier with each sentence he utters, mind filling with flashbacks of how many ways he’s bent you over to fuck you, drunk on the phantom-like winds upon your ear that sound like he’s whispering all those filthy things to you. “and . . just missin’ my girl.”

“how’ve you been, baby?” he asks with a low voice, like he knows what you’re doing and the term of possession only has you sucking in a breath, fingers slip inside you after possibly a decade of teasing and you find it hard to answer. “darling?”

“y-yeah, ’m still here,” you pant out, afraid of being caught, but your voice quivers enough just for geto to catch on to what you were up to. he didn’t fault you, though (he never blames his girl), but there is a small smirk that forms on his face. he purposely lowers his voice even more, if it was possible, mirroring and mimicking your breathy tone when talking to him.

but with one hand that goes down to his pelvis, he doesn’t have to mimic you at all, hand palming languidly at his bulge. in the dead of the night, there wasn’t much need to keep his voice down in order to hear the pretty moans falling from your mouth; he does anyway.

it’s too shitty of a reception especially with your nokia’s, so he hears the artificial, metallic-like voice coming from his phone, but your sounds are just too lovely, transcending the robotic-ness of a phone call. and it’s like you’re actually there, smiling mischievously at him while stroking his cock and teasing him the way he liked to be teased.

“s-sugu?” you mumble, mind heading into the extremes and confident now that he’s just weirded out and silent, but it’s anything but that.

“yes, baby?” he hums, smiling to himself when he hears rustling over the phone and he can imagine you lifting your hips to remove your panties, tossing it somewhere across the room. “wanna tell me what you’re doin’?” 

you suck in a breath — so he knows — but suguru always knows everything so you’re whining into the receiver, pleasantly surprised when he replies with a deep groan that only makes you clench around nothing.

“that’s right . .” he drawls and you hear a soft thud over the line, and now you’re the one quieting your movements just to hear your boyfriend, the faint shlick shlick sounds of his hand along his cock. geto gasps when he squeezes his tip just like how you do it, pre-cum starting to leak. “need you h-here, doll . .”

you mewl softly and start the hand on your clit again, abandoning the tight hold around your phone just so you can use the other to slip your fingers into your warm cunt. it doesn’t even compare to the thickness and length of geto’s dick, but you have to work with what you have. with head turned toward the speaker, your boyfriend has gone non-verbal, too, moaning like a slut into the receiver.

“suguru, i’m— please . .” you whine softly, hips bucking into your hands, “doesn’t feel as g— good.”

geto coos inwardly at your needy voice, mouth falling open at his rock hard cock. it’s so hard that it hurts, left to merely fuck his fleshlight whenever he could and use his hand on other days. he missed your sweet fucking pussy so, so much, just picturing your beautiful arched back that lifts off the sheets and your shaking thighs. he imagines your perfect pout on your face as you finger yourself, unsatisfied, obviously, begging him with tugs to his hands and his eyes flutter close.

“i know, baby, and ’m sorry,” he mumbles, taking the nokia from his ear to put it right up to his relentless pumping and you swallow, the slick, wet sounds more clear now. “but you hear what ya do t’me, don’t you?”

“mhm . .” you trail off, thinking of his fat cock impaling you instead, and you follow his actions to a T, bringing it right to your sopping cunt and geto has to scrunch his already shut eyes just to wish that his hand was your pussy. your hand is getting tired, he’s sure, but you finger yourself so prettily his hand easily speeds up, giving his shaft periodic squeezes.

“so wet, suguu . .” you drag out his name, already feeling your high approach soon, but you want the both of you to cum together. “i miss you stretchin’ me out . .” a hiss from suguru, “i miss your cum spilling out of me.”

that has geto choking out a whine, “f—fuck, sweetheart, don’t say that. i do miss g-giving you all of my cum—”

the filthiness of everything contributes to all your senses, parents omitted from memory, your finals at the back of your mind and only focusing on the envelope that resides on your bedside table containing a plane ticket. in one week you’d be able to see him again — a sweet treat given to you by gojo and nanami with their combined expenses.

you didn’t even know how you could thank them and while nanami waves you off for any payback, gojo did say you could treat him to anything in that café. it was difficult not to be excited, a louder whine drawn from your throat again and he laughs breathlessly, voice down low and distraught.

“any particular reason w-why my girl’s so needy lately—?”

geto basically chokes out his question while you shake your head until you remember that he can’t see you, answering with a broken “no”.

you resist the urge to spill on the exact reason — your mind spiralling from the anticipation of meeting him, the many, many lewd memories you’ve made over six months, his just-woken-up voice — because he’d never let you live it down.

“c-close, suguru—” your thighs are squeezed tight around your tired hand, sensitive from the immense overstimulation, “’m g’nna cum soon—!”

“me too, my love,” geto’s eyes are back open, trained on his cock and watching the sheer neediness shown in his weeping tip and bucking hips. he needs this, he needs you, and once you’re submitting your final paper, he’s sure to look at flights right to your doorstep.

“i’m c—” you’re whining out, body totally turned over and lying on your stomach as you chase your high, fuelled by the deep guttural groans of your boyfriend. your lips and mind are only filled with suguru, suguru, suguru, not even caring that your sheets are soaked and your fingers are cramping.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . s—shit—” geto reaches his release first, mind filled with replenished memories of your tight pussy hugging his cock, spurts of white spilling all over himself with a loud groan and you’re left to listen out for the desperate sounds of your boyfriend miles away, lengthening his climax as he continues to pump himself. “cum all over your fingers, doll . .”

suguru coaxes in that sweet voice of his, mumbling deep into the phone only for you. “doing so, so good, aren’t ya?” the quietness on his end, the slow lazy stroking of his hand again, and you’re cumming all over your fingers, eyes blown wide from the orgasm that he talks you through while you ride it out on your mediocre fingers. your mouth is stained with endless profanities and moans mixed with geto’s name, muffled by the bedsheets you’re so harshly biting into to prevent any loud, unbecoming sounds.

“that good?” he asks with a laugh, yawning yet again and you feel guilty again—

“i’m sorry, s—”

“no. don’t, doll, don’t apologise,” suguru brushes his thumb over his thigh, partially wiping off the cum and partially hoping he can relax the furrow of your brow like he always does. “you’re frowning and your shoulders are up, probably, relax . .”

you sigh, another thing that geto values a lot and has taught to you; deep breaths and untensing all parts of your body.

“good girl, was that good?”

“the phone sex or the deep breaths?”

geto grins. god, he missed you so fucking much — “both.”

“both was very good, thank you very much,” you giggle, not paying much mind to the way you remove your fingers from your cunt, turning over to the bedside table to take some tissues, “although the sex was a little better.”

“aw, no wins for the intense, groundbreaking, spirit-calming deep breaths?”

you shake your head (you’ve got to stop doing that), “ehh . . it was alright.”

geto’s reluctant sleepiness grants you a few more minutes together, his words starting to slur more and more the longer you were on the line, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. with fatigue came the words laced with unhindered affection, murmuring softly about hoping to see you soon, to feel you, to kiss you, and you expressed the same sentiment back to him.

the other switches the output to speaker, wanting to take in the messily taken profile pic he set your contact with. a blurred, blinding smile with his face squished against yours; a little below the two of you, berry and cherry clutched within your palms, doing the same. “can my girl do her best for her finals?”

“i can’t promise the best, but i’ll try . . okay?”

geto hums, a soft smile on his face. he’s cleaned up by now, new sweatpants on and duvet pulled right to his neck while he stares at your face, the pixels of the nokia never diluting your beauty.

“attagirl. have a good dinner, lovergirl.”

that knocks some breath out of you, and you grin like a schoolgirl.

“have a goodnight’s sleep, loverboy.”

you bounce on your heels impatiently when the plane finally lands, waiting for the throngs of people on the flight to leave through the bridge, but it’s taking ages, speed walking once you’re out. you wanted to be the first at the luggage conveyor belt, you needed to be the first passenger of your flight to be out of the arrival doors.

without the rush of the people and the striking colours of your boyfriend’s friends’ hair colours, it wasn’t too difficult to run up to them for a big hug.

“(y/n)~!” gojo drags out your name, waving you over excitedly and bringing the both of you into a group hug. nanami is adamant on being the ever broody racer, but you catch the ghost of a smile when he wraps a careful arm around your shoulders.

“how was the flight, (y/n)?” the blonde’s firm but concerned voice cuts through the chaos of the white-haired man.

“don’t ask lame questions like thaaaat, nanami! you’ll just bore me—” and a resounding smack! is then heard, and gojo’s clutching the back of his head in pain, the other taking the opportunity to lead you away from gojo’s antics and offering to help with your luggages. without words, nanami already feels your nervousness, patting your back in solidarity.

“hey— hey! oi!”

gojo slams the door to his car. “okay, we’ve painstakingly tried to hold suguru back whenever he was about to book flights—” gojo mentions in the car on the ride there, taking way too quick turns for your liking with your luggage going to town in the trunk. its thumps against the roof and sides always seem to interrupt the conversation with the white-haired man, but he seemed too much in a hurry to care. “think it was almost eight separate times!”

“thank you— ah!” you almost lurch forward at the amber light, but gojo decided at the last minute that he was just going to run it — braking then speeding it up all over again.

“you know, for a racer, you’re a terrible civilian driver . .” you groan once you reach the mouth of the familiar car park that you frequented in your six months in japan, but now that gojo’s easily manoeuvres the car to a slow, the adrenaline of the fast drive changes into something of dread, of a dizzying feeling.

what if suguru didn’t want to see you anymore? what if he already booked himself a flight and was nowhere to be found? what if he’s cheat—

your hands are clammy, not even present to how gojo calls out from you from the driver’s seat. cautiously, he’s putting a hand on your shoulder (because god forbid gojo touched anything of suguru’s, both Mazda and girlfriend), and shaking you out of your daze.

you catch glimpses of his sentences: “all  . . talks about . . trust . . no girl has . .” but you stop his rambling with frantic slaps to his shoulder. you know you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions but it’s hard not to when the scene is clear as day. suguru is never one to cheat — from the six months you’ve known him, from the many calls and check-ins the two of you do over the line.

defying time zones, fighting fatigue . . for this?

but you know better to list your lover as the instigator, especially from how this other girl was just hovering all over his Mazda, sticking her ass out and trailing her hand all over his finishing. that was one thing — but geto isn’t making any move to shove her off, only looking at her through hooded lids that could definitely drive anyone off. she wasn’t affected, though.

you’re not listening to gojo even when you step out of the car, already used to the curious eyes that rake over you and your figure — curiosity turns into recognition and then shock when they see how your boyfriend acts, but before you can actually make your way toward them, another man sidles up to you.

oh my god, it’s daisuke. you sigh loudly, knowing how gojo had dealt with him before and how much of an asshole he is, but all he does is look you up and down, not giving one fuck to how the subject of his embarrassment was sitting right in the driver’s seat.

“hey, babygirl.” you want to vomit from that one greeting alone, but you try not to pay him much mind. “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out here?”

“don’t your sorry ass have a girlfriend?” daisuke doesn’t even begin to digest the insult, and you think that he’s a masochist with how much he sets himself up for getting insulted, but then the girl’s eyes meet yours — she’s in his pictures, she’s in his wallet, you’ve seen her when this loser beside you blatantly brags about his girl. you’d feel sorry for her but it seems she’s as stupid as him.

they’re exactly that — realising you just walked yourself into one big jealousy scheme planned by the biggest jokers of the underground racing scene, your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes are also locked on his girlfriend with your boyfriend of all people, making sure she sees that he’s all up in your space. she’s doing the same, but when she actually tries to touch him is when geto finally does something, and the jealous burn in your heart quells a bit.

geto’s too smart to be mingling around with her, you hope, when you hear him mutter something to her and you smile to yourself when she cowers under his stare and words.

“you touch my fuckin’ car one more time and i’m sure to drive both you and your loser boyfriend, out of here forever. you can take your clown asses to another parking lot and race there and then i won’t have to see your faces any more,” his hold around his wrist isn’t harsh, but it is firm, and he prevents her from leaving until she gets his message, “plus i have a girl i’m obsessed with. take your lame jealous charade somewhere else and maybe go to couples’ therapy. you two clearly need it.”

and when she looks at you again — you think it’s how your identity settles in her mind — she yelps and finally runs away at the daggers you give, not even sparing a glance to daisuke who’s carefully scooching closer to you. but just as he tries to wrap his arm around your waist, your eyes catch suguru’s.

his eyes soften for just a moment; it was just like the café. his palms turn sweaty and he feels like he could collapse — but now you’re looking just a little different. he wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or the tiredness from exams, but you’re still as stunning as the day he led you out of the parking lot.

geto cannot resist giving you a big grin, but it quickly fades when his gaze falls on daisuke beside you and a scowl appears. and while your body’s already distancing yourself from the man’s crusty ass lips, you feel a throb go right down to your core when the same annoyed glower forms across his features: eyebrows pulled taut, long strides, muscles bulging in the wifebeater he’s got on.

six months away from your man has clearly done things to you.

with one smooth swoop, geto has you pulled flush against him, not even looking as he uses his free hand to grab at daisuke’s neckline before he leans in to kiss you. it’s admittedly a little embarrassing, cause your body reacts so readily to him, tits pressed against his chest while your fingers tangle themselves in his long hair. he tastes like cigarettes and cherries like always and you moan softly into his mouth when his hands wander right down to your ass to give it a squeeze.

“satoru’s not very good at hiding secrets, unfortunately,” geto spills and you pout, surprise ruined by the loud mouth of his friend, but before he gives you his undivided attention, he tugs daisuke closer, roughly. “but that don’t mean i ain’t happy to see ya, baby.”

geto laughs at your flustered state, until his expression darkens again — “you have a lot of nerve touching my girl.”

“I—i didn’t! she was basically begging for me to touch her.”

“don’t you—”

“p-plus! my girl was all up over you too, so i thought i’d give her a little lovin’—”

geto almost smashes his jaw in. either way, he lands a clean punch to his face that has daisuke writhing on the floor, clutching his mouth in pain but that doesn’t deter daisuke one bit who sits up . . and then is immediately beaten down again with a boot to his chest. your boyfriend leans down and looks him straight in the eye.

“i’m cancelling my race just so i can make my girl scream my name loud enough for you, because you could never fuck her or anyone that good with your shit dick game,” geto scoffs, “and forget girls, you can’t even win enough races to rise up the ranks. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough, don’t you think?”

suguru doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, only ushering you toward his Mazda parked in the familiar corner, easily shooting a text to gojo to cancel the race as he mentioned just so he could . .

with windows down, you relish again in the tokyo night air, the hand that you miss so much on your thigh, the alluring voice he’s speaking to you in, the beauty of geto suguru. everything looked the same since you left, from the photos he’s put up on the dashboard, the berry keychain hanging from the rear view mirror, the outer orange coating of his car.

“i—”

“i’m sorry, my love,” suguru leaps forward to apologise, stopping the car abruptly. you’ve already reached your destination but, it seems he wants to say something first.

“why are you apologising?”

he frowns, bringing his hand to cradle your cheek. easily, you’re leaning into the touch, closing your eyes. “for ruining the surprise, for that stupid fight with daisuke, for letting my emotions take over.”

you mirror him, features also deepening in somberness. “you didn’t do anything — if anything, you were a victim of his girlfriend too. but . . seeing her be all over you, made me think the worst after not seeing you for six months.”

geto’s eyes soften yet again (he simply can’t help it around you), using both hands to hold you, now, and you float into his arms like a feather, like he’s in command. you let him guide you into the driver’s seat, faces so close and just hoping to touch after so many months apart.

“i . . i love you,” he swallows, brushing the hair from your face. you find that he’s shaking and breathing so heavily you’d think he was hyperventilating, but he gathers courage on a deep breath and continues, “i have since you left. right after, i went home to cry.”

“oh . .” your lip juts out, eyebrows downturned and eyes filling just a little, “oh, sugu . .”

“i just have always wanted to say it, i guess,” he chuckles, sniffling to hide his true emotions, “i just didn’t know whether i should say it over the phone where it would sound cheap; b-but, you don’t have to say it back, of course—”

you smile through tears, pressing a peck to his forehead in gratitude, “it wouldn’t sound like it to me, but i appreciate you waiting until i returned,” geto relishes in your lips upon his skin again, and he doesn’t think he could survive another day, another minute, another second without you, “i have, too, but i’m not sure when. it definitely includes the time you set alarms to wake me up for exams, though.”

he laughs freely at the memory now, of alarms interrupting his dinners and his parents asking “another call?”, but they let him do whatever, happy to hear their boy joking and laughing over the call with his mystery partner. you giggle, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears that did fall, letting the interior fluorescent light of the Mazda illuminate the features you love so much, all belonging to the man you pined over from many miles away.

“i love you too, suguru — stumbling into that random car park was the best thing i’ve ever done.”

“well, it might’ve not turned out as well if some other group had gotten to you first,” his thumb plays with your bottom lip and brings you to him, “’m just glad i got to ya in time . .”

“yeah? what if you didn’t at all?”

“then i would’ve made sure i’d find you in any way that i can, even if i had to beat up a thousand daisukes.”

that makes you giggle at little, a sliver of eye contact shared with your lover before he engulfs you in a rough kiss and your moan reaches the heavens, body so sensitive from being away from his touch that you jolt when he wraps an arm around your waist. 

“relax, baby,” geto chuckles, speaking against your lips, “take it slow.”

“but i don’t wanna . .” you whine softly, clinging to him in surprise when he pulls a lever next to his seat and the backrest falls all the way down.

“ah!” you grin, “new mod?”

suguru barks out in laughter, “ya caught me. i got it modified yesterday.”

“so you could do dirty things like this?”

he rolls his eyes with a blinding smile, just so, so happy he’s got you back in his arms again, “exactly that.”

the other willingly shows you just what the modification can take, both hands spread out on your ass and pulling you onto his crotch. your core already feels the half-hard bulge under him, using your hips to grind down even more along him. everything feels like too much, after so long away from him that you already feel your high approaching from simply grinding your clit against him and he teases.

“you g’nna cum, already?” he grins slyly, suddenly moving his hips to meet yours that has a broken mewl leaving your throat.

“b—been too long away from you . .” you admit a little sheepishly, using his shirt as an anchor while you continue to grind your cunt into his front, only your panties and his trousers separating the contact of skin. but with how your body jerks in pleasure, you’d think there was nothing between the both of you. “i need you, quick.”

geto says nothing but help you with small pants, the backlighting from the headlines accentuating your figure so nicely that he grunts out your name in between swears, soon stuttering your syllables once he feels you still on his lap with arched back and throbbing cunt. he can feel you, feel you squeezing around him even when he wasn’t in you.

“guess your fingers were pretty crap, h-huh?” massaging your sides, you hum in disapproval at his cheeky smirk, hoping to change that when he lets you do whatever: you pull him up by his shirt and open the door to his car, pushing at him to get out. you don’t day anything and he already knows what you want when you spread your legs, biting his lip at the wet patch on the pretty set you decided to don.

and even with witnessing this sight over and over, you’re never used to the way geto worships you, reveres you, when he kneels down on straight gravel. he doesn’t care if his pants are littered with small specks of dust and dirt, whether he knees start to hurt, but he only has his eyes set on your alluring cunt, finger delicate when he pulls your panties to the side but just brutal when his mouth meets your clit.

“su— s-shit—!” is all you can manage, hearing the other breathe through his nose once his mouth latches on your pussy. it’s something that he hasn’t tasted since long ago, and he’d be damned to let you go again, so he takes the opportunity to savour your arousal, switching between flicking and sucking on your clit like a starved man.

“she tastes so fuckin’ good hmmff—” his eyes meet yours and he feels you squeeze around nothing, making a show of letting you watch how his tongue circles your bud, down to your hole and up again, slurping up your juices sloppily. “i hope this pussy’s missed me as much as i missed her, yeah?”

“y-yeah . .” you moan out softly, legs moving apart more to get more of him, pelvis humping against his face so much that he has to hold it down with a hand. your pre is dripping all over his leather seats and onto the floor, but he makes sure not to spill any more from the way he scoops it up and prods at your entrance. 

“let your pussy do the talkin’, baby,” he mumbles drunkenly, pushing in a finger past your walls and the stretch is already so much better than your own. your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, body already bucking and craving for more when he pushes his thicker finger all the way in and it’s no problem for geto to slip the other in, “she’s sucking me in so well, can she do this to my cock too? hm?”

wordlessly, you’re nodding, catching a whisper of good girl before he’s back on your sopping pussy, sucking up and swallowing all of your arousal that it’s downright filthy, the noises echoing throughout the space. geto doesn’t waste any time pumping his digits, moving them in tandem with his tongue.

“s—suguru . .” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes open from the sheer pleasure, and you’re met with the vision that you can never get enough of — your racer boyfriend’s tongue out, hooded lids and soaked chin — and he grants you a little more of euphoria, groaning loudly into your pussy. with each minute, he’s only getting harder, unbelievably so, so your fantasy cut short when he removes his fingers and mouth with a pop! and laughs at your needy whine.

“you’ve been away too long, come,” geto stands to give you a kiss first, letting you taste yourself, “i need to be in you, darlin’.” 

and so when he first slips in, it feels like heaven on earth, his leaking tip nudging past your folds and right into your warm cunt that he whines so loudly, long hair falling all about his face and body. you’re not different, nails digging in his skin at the stretch that you’ve missed, cock so much longer and thicker than your fingers.

“t-this is better than any fleshlight, fuuckk . .” he mutters to himself, one hand holding your ankle up and the other holding your bent knee. he’s hoping the modification he made to his car wouldn’t give up on him, because he knows he won’t be able to hold back once you’ve adjusted. but when you start moving earlier than he expects, he doesn’t give you the chance, slamming right up to the hilt until you’re shivering and clenching around him.

“g—god, r-right there, sugu—” you preen, nothing but incoherent and repeated sentences mumbled by you over and over, “feels s’full . .”

“y-yeah? tha’ it?” you don’t need the shitty light of the abandoned parking lot to make you look beautiful, you’re doing it all on your own when your body arches towards him and your legs shiver in his hold, catching glimpses of just how wet you were — juices smeared along your inner thighs, a clear sheen of it along his length, all thanks to the lighting. “so sloppy, huh . . listen to ’er.”

geto emphasises his thrust, in, out, and in, out, just for you to hear your dripping pussy dragging along his shaft, one of the things of yours that makes him go insane. 

“all because of you,” you babble mindlessly, fingers expressing your need for him and he listens like he always does, body hovering over yours just to kiss you and because of that he’s thrusting all the more deeper into you as you break the kiss with a loud moan. geto laughs against your lips, hips making quick work to make sure he stays in his new angle, and he’s rewarded with your lewd pleas for him.

he’s ramming into you so perfectly, mushroom tip just barely brushing against your cervix each time that it has your mouth permanently open in pure pleasure.

“well . . you’re the only doll to get me hard and needy like this . .” he chuckles again, kissing down your neck to make sure you get blue and black into your skin, “and i fuckin’ love her for it.”

with a shaky hand you pull on his ruined ponytail, “s-say it again.”

“i love you,” suguru almost whispers, afraid of breaking the silence.

“again . .”

“i love you, sweetheart,” that makes you bend into his hold, undoubtedly.

“again, suguru—”

his hips are relentless, still moving even through his pussydrunk confessions, “i love you— i-i love you, i love you. so, goddamn, much— s-shiiit . .”

“m-me too, su . . i love you— i—” your arms trap him, circling around his neck and making sure he stays close to you and he pushes on your knees more, fat cock fucking into you in a more open mating press, knowing you’re close by how your toes curl and your stomach contracts, by how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he’s got you mapped out, memorised, all from his devotion to you.

“i know, baby, you’re close, y—yeah?”

he feels you nod, thighs starting to burn from the position but while your pussy keeps sucking him in, he’s sure to continue to slam into you, making sure all four walls of the parking lot hear the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your ass.

“c’mon, cum with me, princess,” he murmurs, lightheaded with the tightness and warmth of your pussy. it’s a wonder he hasn’t cummed already, sneaking one hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit. your moans are rendered inaudible, only managing pathetic squeaks before you’re tipped over the edge and you’re whimpering so loudly into his car, cum dripping down and out your cunt and right to your ass.

your pussy flutters with geto’s continued thrusts, prompting him to reach his release right after with a deep groan, hips stuttering in your sensitive pussy until he’s spilling his load, white and hot. it’s just so, so goddamn much, stuffing your hole full of his cum that it has no choice to spill and dribble out when he removes his cock, the sight just so mesmerising to him.

“p—please,” your energy is far from used up, turning your body over just so you can present your ass to him. face squished into the driver’s seat, you use both hands to spread your cum-filled pussy, just asking for more and geto only smiles with a certain lilt in his voice. “need more, suguru . .”

“that’s my lovergirl.”

[monzamash]

off the record — lando norris

"the line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it." lando norris x you (femreader) | 2.1k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) masterlist

The media pen was mayhem after what had been an eventful morning on track. Cameras hoisted every which way, journalists vying for their chance to get front row. And then there was you; little old you trying your best to muscle into every nook and cranny available, wrestling with the big boys and girls. You were a bit of a hot shot now, rising through the ranks online as a media personality and bringing it to the stalwarts of mainstream media.

And you were good – really good. An exceptional storyteller and an extractor of sorts when it came to getting the scoop, something you had honed in on during your days working freelance before eventually realising your potential. Somehow, you’d made it here. Reporting for Sky Sports. Coming to you live from Monaco. Dream shit.

“Lando Norris…” You started, microphone locked and loaded in front of the sweaty, nonchalant McLaren driver.

“Felt like you left a little bit out on track in practice this morning. P10 – where do you think you can get the car in qualifying this afternoon?”

“P1 obviously,” Lando quipped, chewing through his comically large drinking straw in an attempt to hide his smirk. Mocking.

“Yeah?”

“What do you reckon?” He asked, leaning forward ever so slightly with a mischievous glint in his eye that had you rolling yours.

You shrugged, “Wouldn’t count the McLaren car out, that’s for sure.”

“The car and…” Lando smirk widened, lips still pursed and baiting.

“The driver too? Maybe?” Dickhead.

“Maybe that too…” You gave in with a sigh, eliciting a wide smile from the man standing in front of a gaggle of reporters, waiting for your next question with snickering expressions.

“So high expectations going into quali then?”

It had always been like this with Lando from the moment you stuck your little hand held recorder in his face at Bahrain last year to now. He knew he could wind you up and find levity in whatever situation he found himself in at the end of a session – good or bad. It was always a friendly back and forth between journalist and driver. Harmless banter to make the monotony of the media pen just that little bit more bearable. Professional, until it wasn’t.

“The flirting is getting out of hand,” You whispered into his kiss, teeth clashing, hands fumbling as you fell back on your hotel bed with a huff.

“But you look so fucking cute asking me questions like that,” He growled in retort, hands making quick work of the jeans clinging to your hips – the ones that had been taunting him all day.

Everywhere he turned he saw you swaying from side to side, aching to have this moment with you now.

“Well duh,” You quipped confidently, eyes fluttering shut as his feverish lips ghosted above the damp patch of excitement between your thighs. Focus.

“But it has to stop.”

“Oh you want me to stop right now?”

“I’m not talking about…” You stopped mid-sentence when you caught the mischievous glimmer in Lando’s eyes, lips pulled into a smirk, “Okay, fuck you.”

“You love it,” He breathed out in barely a whisper, leaving a trail of marks down the inside of your thigh before finally giving you what you were waiting for. 

“And don’t pretend like the thought of me going down on you when you’re asking me those silly little questions doesn’t turn you on.”

Well he fucking had you there.

Lando punctuated his point with a long, teasing stripe to your cunt before burying himself between your thighs, only coming up for air when you tugged on his curls and demanded a kiss. He knew how you were, how needy and insatiable you could be. This was a thing now; a god forsaken mistake in Australia that had turned into a runaway train. Neither of you could stop it.

“I can’t live without this.”

The desperation spilled from your mouth in a guttural moan as you titled you hips upwards and let the twisted knots in the depths of your stomach unravel. The sight of you thrashing in pleasure below knocked the wind out of Lando, eyes and mind focused solely on fucking you through your high so perfectly, fingers bruising the buttery flesh of your thighs.

“God – fuck…” He could barely breathe, “Don’t – you don’t have to.”

And with one last pump, he was coming into the condom he’d slipped on without you even knowing. It was second-hand now, muscle memory and so fucking good. But it didn’t start that way – no, it was awkward goodbyes and a cold ‘thanks for that’ which made you regret ever answering your hotel door. The situation had changed in the blink of an eye – now he was lingering, kissing you in places that had you melting into the mussed sheets and begging him to stay a little bit longer.

It was pathetic how reliant you’d become and how distant you could be when he had to leave. The leaving part was the thing that changed and had you questioning all of it. It used to be that you could go shower and come back to an empty bed and not even flinch. Four months of he is just a causal fuck, no hard feelings to now not being so stoic on that sentiment but you wouldn’t admit that. Not to yourself and especially not to the man peering down at you – all lazy smiles and dimples and ocean eyes. You were fucked.

“I gotta go,” Lando whispered, brushing the stray strands of hair from your flushed face, pout present and needy.

“You don’t really though.”

“If I don’t go now I’ll never leave.”

The little voice in your head was monologuing – screaming out all of the reasons why he should stay because maybe deep down that’s what you wanted. But you couldn’t have that. The line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it. It was the devil on your shoulder that tormented you when it came to Lando, pushing the boundaries more and more every time you had him in your clutches. Risking it all.

“Kiss me before you go.”

And he did. Passionately, like a man in love because maybe he was. Maybe he had been for a lot longer than he’d realised – somewhere between Miami and now he let his guard down too far, too soon. You were flawless though, unattainably perfect that he couldn’t be blamed for falling victim to your allure – sharp eyes following you around the paddock, wishing he was the little notebook in your back pocket that garnered all your attention on race weekends.

“See you tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky,” Lando quipped, knowing he would be the one curled up in his cold, lonely bed for the rest of the night waiting impatiently for tomorrow.

In any other circumstance you would think the two of you were like magnets, drawn together amongst the travelling circus that was your workplace. But you had a job to do and that was to seek out drivers and team principals, digging deep for any story you could find. There was a trust that you’d built with the teams, all of them respected your work and knew that you weren’t malicious; in fact you were the opposite.

“I really appreciate you not writing about my drunkenness last weekend… It wasn’t my finest moment unfortunately.”

Oscar was a rookie driver but also a total sweetheart, who admittedly had found himself in a precarious late night adventure in a Miami nightclub post-grand prix. How he ended up that drunk, you had no idea but you saved him from himself with the help of Lando, who Oscar would’ve thought was suspiciously close by if he wasn’t black out drunk.

“I got you, buddy but I think your Australian citizenship might have to be revoked after an effort like that… Very disappointing,” You teased in jest, both smiling into the blistering Monacan sun as you walked side by side into the paddock.

“I woke up with an L on my forehead which I can only assume Lando put there so I think my ego’s bruised enough thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah,” You cringed, “That might’ve been my eyeliner.”

“Is that right…”

Oscar’s tone was laced with suspicion but before he could quiz you on why you were still there that night and that he had started to notice the budding friendship between you and his teammate, he was being whisked away by one of his McLaren publicists. You were thankful that they'd taken his curious questions away – how the tables had turned.

Lando was watching you wander through the paddock behind his dark sunglasses, as had been the trend all weekend. Every time you glanced around he was there, wondering if he could sneak over and say hello. Sure, you were friends with a few of the drivers outside of work but when you stepped over that white line, the barriers of professionalism came up again. They had to, otherwise you would end up in a situation like this – gawking at someone you shouldn’t be.

But god he looked good.

He wore what he knew was your biggest weakness – a backwards cap and the black denim jacket he slung over your shoulders on that dark, stormy night in London a few weeks ago when Imola was cancelled and you needed a fix. Hotel hook-ups only. And all of this had you asking yourself, how on earth could you deny a good morning from the man who was the subject of your every desire?

“Good morning.”

“Well it’s not a bad one,” You smiled, more energised than Lando who was yawning into the crook of his arm, “Late night?”

He loved it when you did that. Sneaking little inside jokes into seemingly innocent conversation, naughty reminders of the nights you shared together when nobody was watching. The cheeky grin tugging on his lips a definite tell-tale that he enjoyed it – the tells getting easier and easier to spot the more you got to know him. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought that maybe he was into this as much as you. Little did you know.

“Yeah just squeezed in a late cardio sesh – you know how it is…”

A soft ahh slipped from your smirking lips, eyes trained on your path ahead as Lando strolled alongside, “What’s on the agenda today?”

You shrugged, half out of genuine cluelessness and the other half deflecting how nervous you were. Working in the media was your dream but walking through the hallowed halls of a sport you had loved for your entire life and that dream coming true made your stomach churn with every emotion under the sun. Especially in Monaco.

“You nervous?” Lando asked quietly, shaking you from your thoughts and panicked that you were talking out loud.

“Huh? Oh…” You waved him off and chuckled, “No – I mean, yeah but I always feel like this on race morning… But obviously you’re probably a lot more nervous than me so it’s nothing…” You were a stuttering mess and all Lando wanted to do was reach out and give you a hug.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. This was your little secret, a delicious secret that only the two of you knew and he didn’t want to ruin that. Instead, he dug his hands into his jean pockets a little deeper and gave you a reassuring nudge. Shoulder to shoulder, the same way you laid together the night before after what could only be described as the best sex of your life. Lives.

“My mum always said that nerves mean you care,” Lando’s voice was lower than before – a seriousness taking over, “You’ll do great, as always.”

“Thank you,” You matched his tone, “Hopefully I’m interviewing Lando Norris, Monaco Grand Prix winner…”

That’s all you really wanted deep down. Not the breaking story of the weekend or the drama surrounding contract talks at Red Bull. Just for the guy you had grown profoundly fond of to have some semblance of good luck for once. He’d worked hard for it, you’d seen it first hand and you’d seen the heartbreak when things weren’t going his way. Alas, that was what started this whole situation – frustrated post-race sex. Chef’s kiss.

Lando simply rolled his eyes and sighed loudly before leaning in a tiny bit closer than what you considered a safe workplace distance, “Kiss for good luck then?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” You laughed, kicking his calf with your platform boot as his infectious cackle of a laugh echoed through the growing crowd.

You watched him disappear somewhere between the motorhomes, searching for his team. The lingering feeling in your stomach made you slightly nauseous and a little excited for the next run-in with him. It was like a game of cat and mouse and you weren’t sure who was who but you liked it. More than you wanted to admit because he was Lando fucking Norris – f1's most eligible bachelor, the naughty boy from Bristol, all curls and dimples and undeniable charm. You couldn't help but wonder how many others he had wrapped around his finger like you.

He's just a casual fuck, you mumbled under your breath as you flicked open your notebook and got to work.

masterlist | askbox

[ihavemanychickens]

Shaving Headcanons with TF 141

Price

- have you seen this man’s beard

- He would INSIST that he shaves your legs for you and he would go ALL OUT

- I’m talking exfoliation, fancy shaving cream, only the best razors you can find, and he’d lotion you up AND use oil too!

- He’d get every nook and cranny, and yes, even the toes too

- He just likes the whole experience and enjoys the non sexual intimacy

Soap

- He shaved your legs after you guys were playing truth, or dare, and you dared him

- He didn’t do too bad a job though

- He got a new razor, exfoliated your legs with a warm washcloth, he even wanted to try some experimentation to see which shaving cream worked best- his or yours

- However

- Yall would be having too much fun and laughing and he accidentally nicked you on the top of your foot

- You know the spot

- But it’s fine, 1 hello kitty Band-Aid, and several apologies from soap, and you’re all better

Gaz

- I just know this man cleans up nicely I just KNOW

- When buying razors, shavings cream, lotion, literally ANYTHING, he always looks at the reviews AND price compares

- He offers to shave your legs after you say out loud to no one in particular- “I want a shower but I’m so tired”

- Cue Gaz to the rescue

- He doesn’t do anything fancy, you’re tired and he doesn’t mind going to sleep early

- The SPEED at which he shaves your legs tho?

- Incredible.

- Your legs got a close shave, are moisturized, and you’re in bed in no time at all

- WITH NO NICKS

- He has no objections to shaving your legs for you on occasion after you praise him for how well he did

Ghost

- You were shaving in the shower when you slipped and fell hurting your elbow (luckily you didn’t cut yourself)

- After a quick trip to the hospital where you are diagnosed with a small fracture and are given a half split and a sling, you’re back home where you ask him: “I didn’t finish shaving my legs; could you help out?”

- Ghost: *sigh* sure, why not?

- He’s very gentle and takes his time, definitely scared of nicking you

- Takes a while but eventually your legs are soft and smooth

- Totally didn’t kiss your legs as he rubbed lotion on them

- He jokes that he should shave your legs for you from now on if it means you won’t get hurt

- Also buys you a shower chair to sit on while you shave; it quickly becomes a worthwhile purchase.

[randxmthxughts]

Human Stuff - Neteyam x Human! Reader (afab)

summary: the one where a confused na’vi teenager tries to comfort his human friend while she’s on her period 

warnings: menstruation talk, feeding food

wc: 2.3k

a/n: can you tell that i’m on my period and this is all i want rn

also, neteyam not knowing about periods can be canon? i just read that na’vi are non-placental, so they most likely don’t menstruate like primates. eywa be looking out for her girlies lol. but what do i know

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam walks into the science facility confidently, knowing every nook and cranny like the back of his hand. Growing up, he has spent countless hours here with his siblings, and especially lately, he has been here every other day. His eyes search for you through the glass windows of the labs where he knows he is not allowed to step a foot in, ears perked up for a sign of you, even though it’s awfully quiet. The facility is mostly empty, and he assumes that the rest of the group is probably in their avatar bodies, busy with research. But it’s you that he’s looking for. 

Ever since you arrived at Pandora, Neteyam liked you right away. Roughly translated, the two of you were close in age, and had similar humor. Your father was the team lead of entomologists, and since you weren’t an actual scientist like the rest of the group, you had a lot of spare time to spend with Neteyam, exploring the forests. Your weekly meet ups with him became so familiar, that when you don’t show up at your regular meeting spot, Neteyam has to come and fetch you himself.

So here he is, walking through the labs, wondering if you had forgotten about your plans and were out with the others. It takes him some courage to sneak his head into the sleeping area, where he knew humans slept. Neteyam also knew very well that he wasn’t allowed back there because he could accidentally knock over things with his massive frame but he just needs to check. And his gut feeling isn’t wrong. You are laying in your bed, your back turned to him, completely unaware of his presence. Neteyam takes notice of how little you look with your body curled into a ball. 

At first, he assumes you’re asleep. A small smile stretches his lips, as he sneaks up on you planning to scare you awake for abandoning your plans. But as he readies himself for the loud growl, a small whimper escapes from your lips.

Neteyam stops in his tracks, his ears perking up immediately at the sound. He thought he had imagined it, but that theory gets quickly disproven when he hears another whimper. Moving quickly, he rounds your bed to confirm his suspicions. You jerk up at the sight of his big frame looming over you.

“Neteyam, what the hell?” your heart starts racing. 

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, sorry,” he slowly crouches down in front of your bed, with a guilty expression on his face.

You throw an annoyed look at him before wrapping your arms around your middle again, and pressing your face into the pillow. You don’t want him to see your face. Neteyam doesn’t move, watching you.

“Go away,” you mumble, hoping that for once he will just comply. 

“Did you forget about our plans?” he asks, ignoring your previous words, “Are you sleeping?”

“I am not sleeping,” you mutter angrily into the pillow.

Neteyam can’t quite put his finger on it but he knows that something strange is happening to you. Maybe it was the scent? Of course, he was used to your scent, he could sense you from a mile away because it always stood out to him. It wasn’t necessarily bad or good, it’s just the way he recognized you. But right now, for some reason, it was so intense, like somebody gathered it into a perfume bottle and sprayed it right into his nostrils. 

He instinctively sniffs the air, and you cringe out of embarrassment, wishing you were dead right at this moment. Stupid periods, stupid cramps, stupid human bodies. If only you were back home right now, indulging in comfort food and taking your usual painkillers that could soothe the pain. Whatever you had found in the lab's aid kit was clearly not strong enough, and you suspect that the pressure on Pandora is making it even worse.

Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes as another painful cramp surges through your already sore muscles.

"Y/N, are you hurt?" Neteyam asks, attempting to turn you to your side so he can see your face. You grumble in annoyance, resisting his movements.

"Can you please just leave me alone?" you snap at him.

“But what about our plans?” Neteyam stares at you confused.

“I’m canceling them,” you huff, “I’m going through some human-stuff.”

It feels like your insides are being twisted and squeezed over and over again. You place a hand on your lower belly, hoping to suit the pain, but it only gets worse. Noticing the way your face grimaces, Neteyam stands up.

“You’re in pain,” he states, “I will go for Tsahik.”

“No!” you protest, “No Tsahik!”

“But you look unwell,” he hesitates, unsure of what to do.

“No Tsahik!” you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling another cramp, “It’s a human thing, the pain will pass soon.”

Something about Neteyam standing there and watching you, makes you feel embarrassed. You already felt weak in comparison to him, whenever you tried to keep up with his running through the forest or climbing trees. He loved teasing you about it, and you don’t need another reason for him to poke fun at you. Your hand clutches one of the pillows under your head, and you sit up to shoo him away.

“Go away, you’re not allowed to be here,” you threaten him, raising your pillow in the air.

Neteyam frowns, still not moving. Angry at his sudden stubbornness, you throw the pillow at him with as much force as you can.

“Go!” you shout at him again.

Neteyam easily dodges the pillow but finally backs away from your bed. He knows that when you get angry at him, it’s because you’re embarrassed about something. He just can’t grasp what this “human stuff” is and why is it making you so stressed. Neteyam thought he knew plenty about humans from his dad, but Jake had never mentioned anything like this.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam is so confused on his way out of the facility that he barely notices Norm and almost bumps into him. Fortunately, Norm was in his avatar body and wasn't trampled by the teenage Na'vi. He chuckles at the way Neteyam doesn’t even stop to acknowledge him and keeps walking.

“You okay, kid?” Norm calls out after Neteyam, finally catching his attention.

“Norm, you’re one of the sky people,” Neteyam turns around. 

“I am,” Norm confirms with another chuckle, “Something bothering you?”

“Yeah… Can you tell me what is this ‘human stuff’ that you go through?”

Norm cocks his head, the question sounding so ridiculous, he assumes it’s a joke. But Neteyam looks serious.

“What ‘human stuff’?”

“I’m not sure but it looks like it is painful,” Neteyam shakes his head, “I just saw Y/N, and she was laying in her bed, and crying. It looked like something was hurting her, but she wouldn’t tell me what. Only said it was ‘human stuff’.”

“Maybe she’s just having a stomachache or something?” Norm shrugs.

“That’s what I thought. But when I wanted to get Tsahik for her, she got mad at me. Said that it will pass on its own.”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t understand women sometimes,” Norm replies, then a sudden realization hits him, “Ooooh…”

“What?” Neteyam’s ears perk up, “What is it?”

“I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but she might just be on her period.”

“Period?” it was an unfamiliar word.

“Yeah, women get it every month,” Norm explains but it only seems to confuse Neteyam further, “Okay, so I’m probably not the best person for this but sit down.”

After what seems like an hour passes, Neteyam gives up on the human biology lesson with Norm. He sort of gets the idea of menstruation but he can’t imagine what it feels like, no matter how hard he tries. All he gets from this conversation is that Y/N needs to rest to feel better, and that the food she craves can help ease the pain? He is an alien; he has no idea what she wants.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Y/N?” Neteyam’s soft voice catches your attention.

The medicine you took earlier finally seems to work, and you feel slightly better. You prop yourself up on your elbows and see Neteyam walk into the room. A few colorful plastic bags in his hands catch your attention; these were usually hidden away in the very back of the kitchen cabinets for special occasions. Your mouth salivates at the sight of the chips and the cookies. 

“Are you feeling better?” Neteyam asks, now crouching down next to your bed.

You nod, sitting up, feeling a little guilty for shooing him away earlier. 

“I stole these from the secret stash,” he grimaces, laying out the bags on your blanket.

“My father is going to kill you for this,” you chuckle, reaching for the chips.

Neteyam smiles softly, as he watches you open the bag and fetch a few chips into your mouth. With a loud crunch, you munch on those with a giddy smile, then offer him some. Without much hesitation, Neteyam opens his mouth widely, letting you feed him a handful. You can’t help but chuckle at his blissful reaction to the taste; it was always fun for you to introduce Neteyam to human snacks. Your father got mad at you sometimes for it but you liked sneaking some for Neteyam, just to see him try it out. The sweets seemed to be too intense for him, but he liked salty things. 

“Good?” you ask him. Neteyam hums, then opens his mouth again, signaling for more. 

You chuckle before feeding him another handful. Though a teenager, Neteyam still required much more feeding than you did. So if you had a couple of chips at a time, Neteyam had to have a triple to fill his mouth.

“How did you know to bring these?” you ask him, now reaching for the bag of cookies. 

From your previous tastings, you knew that Neteyam didn’t like chocolate chip cookies. Or anything with chocolate, to be fair. You did not hide your disappointment the first time he almost gagged at the chocolate kiss you gave him, offended by the way his eyes teared up.

“Norm told me that your favorite food can help,” he shrugged, watching you bite down on a cookie.

Your eyes closed in satisfaction as you chewed on it, savoring the taste that filled your mouth. You haven’t had those in a long time.

“Help with what?” you open your eyes again.

“Your human thing,” Neteyam gestures at your stomach.

“Did Norm tell you what it means?” 

You feel heat flush to your cheeks, when Neteyam nods his head. You’re not sure why but the thought of Neteyam knowing makes you feel a little embarrassed. Not because there was anything embarrassing about getting a period. You just couldn’t imagine how weird it might be for him to know that you were bleeding out right at this moment, and he could probably smell it.

“Do you want to cuddle?” his voice catches your attention again. Where did he get that from?

You gulp down nervously, confused at how nonchalant he is. Maybe it’s not a big deal to him? He probably just wants to be supportive.

“Cuddle? Like, with you?” you clarify.

“Who else?” Neteyam chuckles, standing up.

He doesn’t wait for your response, instead gently nudging you to move to the middle of your bed. He was too big for it, so instead of laying down next to you, Neteyam decides to act like your headboard. You watch in confusion, as he slings his left foot over the bed and sits down, pressing his back against the wall, and setting down pillows on his lap. 

“Come on,” Neteyam pats the pillows, encouraging you to lay down.

You hesitate for a second, before laying down, as Neteyam’s huge frame hangs over you. He smiles at how small you look, gently propping up the pillows under your head to make sure you’re comfortable.

“This is a little weird,” you sigh, looking up at his face. 

Neteyam only chuckles and grabs the bag of cookies. He takes one out and offers it to you, bringing it to your mouth. As you open up to take a bite, Neteyam suddenly moves it out of your reach. You huff.

"Please, do not choke," he warns, before finally letting you bite into the cookie.

Eventually, you find yourself sitting up, leaning against his chest. As you swallow the bite, Neteyam feeds you again, listening to the satisfied sounds you make. 

“Feel better about the human stuff?” he nudges your shoulder.

“Much better, thank you,” you turn a little to look at his face.

While you were spending a lot of time with him, you’ve never found yourself in such close proximity with him. It felt weird but comforting. Like he offered you some sort of protection, a shield. 

“Can I ask what it feels like?” Neteyam breaks the silence, “Norm was sweating trying to explain it to me.”

You laugh at the thought of Norm trying to explain human biology to him. Nestling against Neteyam's chest, you make yourself comfortable and start talking. You both enjoy the snacks he brought, and occasionally he comforts you by rubbing small circles on your shoulders and arms. As the evening wears on, you start to feel tired and eventually doze off in his arms.

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

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Masterlist

[fl0w3r-33]

“Stop Moving…”

summary:your sitting on your boyfriends lap and try teasing him a bit…..

WARNING: smut, fem!reader x dom!chris, fingering, p in v, unprotected(wrap it up kids), squirting, spanking,ma, mama , baby, sweet girl, nicknames, aftercare!

a/n : if you this it’s bad i’m sorry 😭😭 ( not proofread😬 )

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

“hey guys i’m here!” I say walking in the triplets house to see them all sitting in the living room watching a movie. I walk over and dap up Matt and gave Nick a hug before making my way over to Chris. “Hey baby c’mere.” He says while patting his knee motioning for me to sit. I sit down with a smile feeling a kiss on my cheeks from him.

As the movie goes on everyone’s getting tried , I move back closer to chris to get more comfortable with a deep exhale. His hands flew to my waist with a low groan, you can feel his breath on your neck and that’s making the heat between you legs grow. I move my hips again just to tease him, his grip tightens “stop moving…..” he wimper from the nook of my neck. You feel something rubbing up against your inner thigh. “Chris, can you move your phone?”I whisper back to him. “That’s not my phone mama.”

“Alright Ima go, i’m tired a shit!” Matt says walking toward the fridge, grabbing a root beer. “yea same here, night yall” Nick says giving me and smiling walking to his room. “night!” Chris tells trying to cover up his yk problem. “Come on let go to my room.” He groans with winking at me.

I turned the door knob to Chris’ room walk over to his closet well he lays down on his bed facing me. I feel his eyes on me i chose to give him little show. I slipped out of my shorts and my shirt, “accidentally” dropping one of his shirts then excessively bent over to grab it .I heard movement behind and a few little sounds from Chris but ignored it.I felt a hand snake around to my inner thigh missing with the hem of my underwear. “Yk, what you doing to me baby?” he asked pressing his hard on to my ass. “ No?” i giggle, acting clueless.

I wiggle out of his grip and slightly run over to his bed and pull the covers over my head. I felt the weight in the bed shift and feel his hand running up and down my body. “ Baby it’s 12:26am, go to sleep.” i whispered/ yell and him. “ You can’t tease me like that then go to sleep” he sits up on the bed. I didn’t answer. I kick on our covers turning over and palming him through his pants. “Fuck” Chris says with a low shaky voice. “Take your pants off” he says leaning down to my face giving me and long kiss while i struggling to pull them down. He starts rubbing my clit. I gasped and that gave him access to slip his tongue in my mouth kissing me deeper. “God your so fucking wet, it from me right ma” he said while moving his long fingers up and down my folds. “Yes Chris, it’s from you” struggling to get that answer out. “ Good girl” he slips two fingers in me. i moan loudly, gripping his arm casually him to cover my mouth. “ As much as i love those pretty moans of yours, you need to keep it down. We don’t want them hearing us do we?”hes said breaking the kiss and look down at my naked half.

“Chris please” i whimper. “Please what baby tell me” he said curling his fingers inside off me. “ Please go f-faster” i blurted out. He speeds up a lot quicker than I intended. I’m a moaning mess while feel a knot build up in my stomach, clenching around his fingers. “ Aw are you close” he pouts and me. I nod while trying to not moan to loud. “ Words mama, let me hear you” he curls his fingers on my g-spot. “ Fuck yes Chris” i say squirm lifting up my hips. He smirks pushing down on my stomach and holding his hand there. “fuck chris i’m so close” I say leaving scratches on his arms. “ I know baby, you’re doing so well sweet girl” he says quickening his pace. “The sudden praise pushed you over the edge, squirting all over his hand and forearm moaning his name constantly. “ Good fucking girl.” he praised landing a slap on my sensitive clit. My legs start to slightly shake as i’m coming out of my high.

“Can i ride you?”i asked in a soft voice while still breathing heavily. “Yes please” he says placing me on his lap. I pull my shirt over my head, letting my boobs spill out in front of his face. I felt his dick twitch through his thin boxers. “How are you so pretty “ he says not even hiding the fact that he’s looking straight at them.He pulls me closer putting one i’ve them in his mouth and squeeze the other ones. “ Fuck omg” i say with my eyes closed, starting to bounce on his clothed dick. I turned around so my ass is facing him and he giving it a hard slap. I jolted forward. I put my hand in his boxers, grabbing his dick and pulling it out earning little groans from him. “ Fuck just sit on it. You weren’t scared infrount of my brothers earlier” with another hard slap on my ass. i turned over sinking down slowly on his dick. “Fuck your too big” i say putting my hand into his hair leaning over to giving him access to my boobs again. “ You feel so good mama. i love this pussy so fuckin much” he says through gritted teeth. I moan his name arching my back making him hit my spot better. “Fuck mama keeps going” Chris says grabbing my tits. I start clenching around him feeling his dick twitch inside me. “Mmm i s-so close Chris.” i say my legs giving out and the thrusts start to get sloppy. “Cum with me sweet girl.” Chris said grabbing my waist to keep me stable.I scream into his chest letting my body fall. He thrusts in my a few more times before lifting me off of him. “Shit baby you didn’t so good. Are you ok?” he asks standing up. “ Yes thank you baby”

He walks back over with a towel cleaning up his and my cum. “ So it’s late sleep and i’ll run us a bath tomorrow morning?” he asks handing me clothes and laying down next to me. “ Aw that sweet, yes that would be nice” i say pulling his shirt over my head.I got comfortable in his arms relaxing and closing my eyes. “ I love you baby” i say. “ I love you so much more ma” he croaked from behind me as we drifted to sleep…..

@junnniiieee07

[scruus]

★̶̲ [ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ]

✎ sub afab howl + dom amab reader notes: masturbation, dirty thoughts, self degradation, sprinkle of exhibitionism, howl being a slut; nobody ask me how and where this came from just no. Also tell me if u guys want a part 2.

Howl softly moans in the quiet lavender smelling air surrounding him. Filthy sounds of squelching and groaning were accompanying his lonely self in the room.

It wasn’t a good idea you know. Legs wide apart, slick running down his glistening hole and his clit all puffy. This was actually very bad. You could come in at any moment right now.

What if you were with a group of friends? like you were sometimes when you get drunk at your office parties. They could walk in on to their friend’s boyfriend fingering himself on the living room couch. Spread open like some hungry whore and offering up a view to everyone?

You would maybe then fuck him in front of everyone? Bounce him on your thick cock and show everyone how his sweet little cunt swallows you all up. Letting everyone see how you breed his hole until his tummy bulges and the cum gushes out of his abused hole and he just moans like a needy bitch, pleading for more.

Or you could come home alone? All tired, angry, stressed. So frustrated with your work and deadlines. Maybe seeing him like this would make you take your anger out on him. Fuck him so hard he loses his voice next day and he gets reduced to a moaning slut.

You wont even be gentle to him. Treating him like a ragdoll and just tearing him open without any prep. Your tip probing his cervix and his entire body spasming as he cums again and again and again. In so deep, your balls slap against his pussy lips. Roughing him up until he can’t even think. Break him apart.

“ffuck….”, howl softly whimpers. He rarely swears unless it’s something that riles him up. And these thoughts are definitely doing that. So pathetic, he mocks himself.

All these scenario running through his pretty little mind as he plunges his fingers deep. In and out trying to hit that spot inside which you always find in less than a second. Obviously you did! After all you had explored each nook and cranny of his beautiful body.

His slender waist and that soft beautiful stomach which you always pepper down with kisses. His pink perky nipples which you love to suck on and bite with your teeth. His cute soft moans that you adore when you kiss along his jaw and down his neck. And his hair? Oh his hair…. Soft and so luscious. You love smelling it every morning when he wakes up cuddled in your arms.

And you also love to pull on it when you raw dog him from behind. Watching that ass jiggle up and down and your cum covered cock just sliding inside of him so easily. His glassy eyes staring up at you with hearts as he babbles “kiss me” nonsensically. He remembered how hard he came that night. Just squirting so much that a huge patch of the bed was wet.

His pussy takes you in so well, it has to, he doesn’t care if he has to force it in. He loves having your cock deep inside his warm walls. Just ramming into him like a fucking machine and making him feel all dizzy and weak.

“oh oh fuck oh a-am close”, howl’s eyes flutter shut as his fingers pick up pace and the coil in his stomach tightens. His toes curl and his hand moves down to clench at the sofa. Shit shit shit, he will cum but the thought saddens him that it will be an orgasm without your dick inside him.

Rambling your name, his moans get desperate. Oh god he was so close. He wants your hands on you. Wants to feel the burn of his pretty cunt trying to take in your shaft. Even though he has fucked you so many times, his pussy still can’t acknowledge the fact that you are so fucking huge and he loves that.

I guess being a wizard comes with its perks.

And just before he can scream your name and rush to a climax. The door of his apartment clicks open and enters a tired yet happy figure he was yearning to see all day.

“Honey you won’t believe what happ-“, you stop dead in your tracks. Eyes wide open as you stare at your lover seated on the gray couch of your living room. The TV’s light shining on him but the sound muted.

His fingers were buried between his fleshy folds and his tender, plushy thighs had his fluids running down. “H-howl…..don’t tell me you were masturbating in the living room?”, you croak, astonished at just how fucking horny your boyfriend is.

Howl chuckles out a giggle, eyes hooded with lust as a wet tongue swipes across his bottom lip. He takes out his fingers from his hole and spreads his pussy lips apart. Showing off his cute cunt and the gaping hole he wished you would just fill in right now.

“I was waiting for you”, he grins before beckoning you with his clean set of fingers. “Wanna fuck this whorish cunt up? Huh Daddy?”

Part 2?

[writervaul-t]

something about you

chapter two: benji

summary: [name] can't seem to shake off benjicot blackwood even with every precaution she takes to avoid him.

pairing: modern!benjicot blackwood x f!reader

notes: if any of you are british, please dm me and tell me i used the right terms for schools 😃 i live for accuracy. also yes, reader is meek and shy and i want to hear NOTHING from any of you.

masterlist | playlist

The rumors circled faster than [Name] running home the same day she had announced she was dating Benjicot Blackwood at Nyra's Nook. When she had gotten home, she texted her boss, apologizing for the commotion and explained a white lie about eating a bad pasta for lunch finally getting to her that afternoon.

Luckily enough, Rhaenyra was more than sympathetic and told her to have the following day off. [Name] spent the day doing what she knew best: hiding out in her room and watching horror movies to avoid hearing anything about what her loud mouth said the previous day.

She hadn't heard anything up until Chiara had barged into her room, howling, "YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE WITH BENJICOT BLACKWOOD?"

"Any louder and the deaf old women two doors down will hear you." [Name] replies, pausing the Babadook.

Chiara ignores her, shoving her friends feet off on her bed to make space for herself. Chiara Tyrell had been one of the many students who came from affluent families - her's being well known for their sustainable food production company - but had hit it off when they were assigned as roommates. She had never hid the fact that she was a Tyrell but also didn't treat [Name] like a piece of gum under her shoe for being a scholarship student, the latter appreciating the treatment.

Still, Chiara always managed to learn about circling gossip and would tell [Name] whether she wanted to or not. Now with the newest information revolving her own roommate, Chiara looked more than pleased to hear directly from the source.

"How'd that happen? Didn't we have plans to watch the movies? Not to mention - Benjicot Blackwood of all people? This is rich."

[Name] dug herself further into her blanket. "Well, first we are still watching movies that and second we aren't going on a date..."

She explains to her friend what had happened, to which she nearly fell over laughing after hearing the whole situation. [Name] swung a pillow at Chiara's face when she wouldn't cease her howling and warned her about their neighbors again.

After taking a few heaving breaths, Chiara stopped, gasping out every word she could think. "That's amazing - and to avoid Aeron of all people? This is even better than the horror movie!"

"What's the deal anyways with those two? I wasn't sure if they wanted to kill or kiss each other." [Name] comments, remembering the scene in front of her.

"Well, they might as well have done either. Their families do similar businesses in trading and unfortunately have property close by so they've always been at each other's throats. Father to son usually. Its like an inherited right to want provoke the next generation." Chiara explains. "Those two, however..."

A look of amused contemplation falls on her face before she giggles. Leave it up to Chiara to not take anything seriously, though [Name] enjoyed their differences, unlike Benjicot and Aeron. "Get on with it!"

"Aeron and Benjicot went to the same schools, all the way up to Sixth Form." Chiara continues. "And anything one had, the other wanted - that included girls and guys. Them coming to university at the same time just about caught everyone's interest. I was hoping one of them would fight again but it seems like Benjicot's pulled back since he entered uni. No one's seen him with anyone that way since we started our first year."

"Why?"

Chiara shrugged. "Who knows. He does have a group of friends he hangs around with nowadays; doesn't hang off with his cousins as much and never floats around groups anymore. At least, according to Janna Terrick."

[Name] nodded, staring at the ceiling as she finally asked herself what had she gotten into? For once her political science lessons finally taught her something and that she just put herself between a family feud and more likely than not brought a couple of monsters out the closet.

"I'm so excited," Chiara continues, laying her body on top of [Name]'s. She just about choked on her curly brown hair and attempted to push her off when all her weight was placed on top of her. "My roommate - my cute little roommate of all people to be in this!"

"This cute little roommate will hit you with another pillow if you don't get off me!" [Name] counters, shoving her off. She turns to the wall, her anxiety building in her chest as she thinks about having to face one of them the next say. "And its not like I wanted this to happen. It just came out because Aeron is such a prick!"

"I'm only joking. If you really do need help, just let me know. I know a few people that can do something about this." Chiara offers ominously, patting [Name]'s arm. [Name] eyes her suspiciously, trying to decide if she wanted to know what she meant or not. She kept her eyes on the wall instead.

"I'm sure another issue will come up soon to mask what happened; besides, almost all the Targaryens and Hightowers are in this year too. There's more than enough drama to go around." Chiara reassures before a mischevious smile comes on her face. "Although it would be fun watching you finally do something outside of studying and working--"

"Chiara."

"Right, I'll leave."

For some reason, [Name] prayed to the gods, old and new, for something to happen to the Targaryens and Hightowers like Chiara mentioned. It had been about two and a half weeks since her blunder and she was still getting strange looks from classmates that just about ignored her until now.

One of them, a Tully brother she couldn't distinguish from, had been brave enough to ask her during her shift at the library, "Is it really true? You got Ben to finally go on a date? Y'know I hadn't pegged him to be the type to date someone like you but I'm glad!"

If she hadn't been so mortified, she would have told Kermit/Oscar off but was beaten to it by the other Kermit/Oscar who smacked his head after he had heard the end his brother's sentence. He sent [Name] an apologetic look.

"My brother was dropped when he was a babe. I'm so sorry. He means well; we're all glad Ben isn't as gloomy as he was before." He offers with a smile before grabbing his brother by the scruff of his shirt like an alleycat and walking away to the other side of the library.

[Name] had just about dropped everything and hid away into the archives section after that. It was embarrassing enough she kept remembering the conversation; it was even worse when people came up to her and ask abouf it.

Still, she made use of her two jobs always finds herself hiding in the archives room or the back of the bookstore whenever she caught sight of Benjicot or Aeron these past few weeks.

The day she had come back to the store, Aeron hadn't shown up but Benjicot had, setting down the books he wanted to buy the first time he was there. "I wanted to get them but Nyra sent me away after you left." He explained to which she only offered a nod as she scanned his selections and packed it quickly into a bag. "Look, I--"

"Thank you for shopping with us, come again. Bye!" [Name] said hurriedly, the guilt of bringing him out of his built in shell overcoming her. She walked away to the back, not coming out until the next customer had come in and she was sure Benjicot was gone. Any time they would be in the same vicinity to one another, he was tried to talk to her but she evaded every attempt he made and seemingly found new routes to her usual spots around campus.

Aeron, surprisingly, pulled back, only giving her long looks across the campus grass during sunset. Still, she wasn't sure the trade in with Benjicot was any better, even though the latter significantly less pushy and condescending as his sworn enemy (though she wouldn't know that much since she never gave him a chance to speak with her).

The archives had been her biggest form of respite from the world it seemed; the silence was a welcome change to the every bustling college town of King's Landing. There were no customers or library patrons to ask her of anything, no nosy classmates staring or making comments, and there was no Benjicot Blackwood or Aeron Bracken to bother/or glare at her.

She sat at one of the long tables down there, contemplating nothing and enjoying it as much as she can before reminding herself that the head librarian, Alicent, would be looking for her soon. As she made her way out the door, she nearly slammed into another body.

"I'm so sorry--"

"Its fine--"

"But I was in the way and I should have been looking forward--!" She started before her mouth clamped shut and met Benjicot Blackwood's brown eyes.

He gave her a reassuring smile as he repeated, "Like I said its fine. I was looking for you anyways." He frowned to himself before correcting himself. "No, well, I was looking for the archives for a class project but I was looking for you. I wasn't following, I promise. I wouldn't do that."

His nervousness seemed to outweigh his appearance - still in the learher bomber jacket and dark clothes. A fashion sense polar opposite to him right now. For some reason this eased [Name] a bit more, though not enough to keep eye contact with him. Her sneakers were a bit more entertaining to look at over Benjicot.

"Um, right." [Name] started, not sure where the conversation should go next. "I'm, uh, sorry. By the way."

"Whatever for?"

"Pulling you into that mess with Aeron. I panicked and wanted him off my back. If I'd known both of you knew each other, let alone hate each other, I wouldn't have brought you in this mess." [Name] explains, finally glancing up at him, fighting the urge to look down again after realizing he had been watching her the whole time as she spoke, listening to every word she said. She adds quietly, "Now we're both pulled into some ridiculous scandal with the school."

Benjicot blinks at her before asking, "You really didn't know about our families? So you didn't just pull me into all of that because you knew about us?"

"No!" [Name] nearly shouts. She wasn't the perfect person but bringing people into her problems hadn't been something she was proud of. "I panicked and you walked in at a seriously unfortunate time."

He nods, seemingly taking on everything she said becore shaking his head and laughing. [Name] frowned, unsure how to take the reaction. Was he mad? Confused?

"Are you upset?" She asks, relief flooding through her as he shook his head.

"No not at all. I just uh..." He starts, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Feel a little embarrassed now."

Huh? "Why?"

"Well I was going to propose we continue--"

"What?" [Name] says, her voice echoing in the empty hall. Benjicot nodded. "What? Why? Aren't you sick of having to answer questions about us already?"

"No actually, I've just been giving vague answers to keep everyone guessing." Benjicot admits, smiling in amusement as [Name] stared at him in shock. "Its fun when you're bored. What have you been saying?"

Nothing. I've been avoiding everyone. "That's not the point. Why do you want to even continue?"

"Ah well, you seem familiar with our families a bit, right?" He starts. "I'm not looking for any trouble but I just enjoy getting under Bracken's skin a lot. Its our second year here and I don't go and poke around with him as much as I did when we were kids. He's on edge and overconfident. I just wanted to remind him that I'm still here to knock him down a bit, yeah? Also, he doesn't seem to hang around the bookstore anymore so you haven't been dealing with him lately."

"Yeah." [Name] said, a little dizzy. He wanted to continue this? Even with the explanation, she had a hard time wrapping her head around it. "So if we pretend to go out a little longer, it irritates Aeron and he'll leave me alone?"

"Something like that, yeah. You don't have to agree to it. Not after you said you knew nothing about the fueds. I know you didn't like him that much either so I thought you bringing me in on that was part of some plan." Benjicot says hurriedly. "I just thought it'd be fun for a little bit - a couple weeks at best - and you'll get time away from that prick forever if we continue."

A bit of the Benjicot from a few weeks ago had came up at that moment when he mentioned Aeron. He really did hate him. Enough to propose to a stranger they should continue "dating" just for some laughs. [Name] stood for a minute, staring down at her shoes again as if they had the answer to this problem.

Now, she could have just told Aeron off but what would that do for someone as dense and self absorbed as him? If she followed Benjicot's suggestion and continued this ruse, it would mean he'd leave her alone since Benjicot is around.

She chewed her lip, following the pit in her stomach as she said, "Fine."

Benjicot's eyes widened, looking like a new person from the sudden agreement. "Seriously?"

[Name] nodded. "On some conditions." She held her fingers up each time she spoke. "One, we only do this on campus and at the bookstore. And try not to be seen with other people around Aeron and his friends; they might get suspicious."

"Easy enough."

"Two, no kissing on the mouth or anything of that sort." Benjicot sent her a confused look.

"How would we convince them then? You act like you've never been kissed before--" He stops himself as [Name] sent him a scathing look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She says defensively. "Not all of us had time for relationships if we wanted to get into a good university."

"No, I just - you're um, really pretty?" He says the statement like a question, but that only set a fire in [Name]'s chest as she glared at him. He shakes his head in panic. "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to make it sound like an insult. Its just uh... Yeah." He ends whatever he says, clearly not wanting to piss [Name] off anymore. "How about no mouth to mouth of any kind? Just head kisses? That's still convincing enough."

[Name] stared at him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion to see if he gave that suggestion for real or just to appease her. "Fine. Head kisses and that's it."

She held up a third finger. "Two months at best with this. Six weeks basically. We pretend to date, 'break up' and we go on with our days like before."

"We can't even be friends?" Benjicot jokes, though she can hear the hint of genuineness behind it. Given what she head about Benjicot Blackwood, he seemed like nothing but trouble. But being in front him now, so quiet and considerate of her feelings, she wasn't sure what to think anymore.

This time, she was the one to give a reassuring smile. "Let's see in a couple months, Benjicot."

"Just call me Benji. I don't get called Benjicot unless I'm in trouble."

"Sure. Benji."

After laying all their ground rules, Benji offered to walk her home ("Its almost dark and now's a good time to start since everyone's walking home!"). The walk was silent, both unsure of what to say to each other at that moment in time.

Between the both of them, Benji seemed the most natural about acting everything out. He kept an arm around her and often glanced her way, as if completely enamored by her appearance even if she looked like she crawled out of a sewer after a long day of pushing heavy books around all day.

Regardless, she could feel staring again but she didn't mind this time now that she had Benji around to be in on this. By the time they reached her apartment, she pulled away from him. She looked at him and for once she seemed to have a good look at him.

His brown hair was messed up from the autumn wind. The leather jacket fit him well but he clearly seemed to have just grown into it from how he awkwardly kept his hands shoved into his pockets and moved his shoulders around it with uncertainty. In that moment, Benji was just like any other person and not some lone wolf with a rakeish history.

"Thanks for walking me home." [Name] says before pausing. "Benji."

Benji grins. "No problem. [Name]."

The door swings open, Chiara stepping out through the door. Her eyes dart between the two before stepping askde to let [Name] walk in. They both wave at Benji, who reciprocates before turning to walk back to his own place. After he'd been far away enough, Chiara pulls [Name] by her sweater into their apartment.

"What happened?"

The question itself wouldn't give a clear enough answer for her friend. [Name] puts her bag down as she speaks, "I think you'll need to sit down for this. You might faint after you hear everything."

taglist

@not-a-glad-gladiator @opheliaas-stuff @sahvlren @nikki-is-a-nerd @weird-things-i-think-about @cxcilla @anakilusmos @haydee5010 @waystarkia

[crybaby-bkg]

Gojo has always been a bit of a glutton. it’s his worst trait, you think, despite the many others that he inflicts upon you in your daily life. but, it’s just not enough for you. he does that with everyone, this kind, funny, flirtatious kind of banter. getou tells you he’s different with you, shoko makes note of how he’s really not like that with so many people.

but it’s not enough. so you start cooking up different things, these desserts intertwined with a certain potion that’ll make his attention be on solely you. you crush your flowers and sprinkle them into the boiling pot, sprinkle in a little bit of this and a dash of that, before you cut off a tiny piece of your hair and let it flutter into the concoction. it doesn’t let out a tuft of pink smoke in the shape of a heart, but you have faith that it’s gonna work.

“I’ll give you a piggyback ride if you let me have that,” Gojo tries to barter with you the next day he sees you, sitting under a tree and unwrapping the piece of cake that you had oh so conveniently whipped up. you pretend to think it over, unable to help your smile as you think about how easy this is going to be, before agreeing.

it happens over time, the effects of the love potion. first, Gojo becomes a bit more clingy. he hurries across campus to make sure that he’s able to walk you back to your apartment, carries all of your bags for you. then he starts buying you all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily need (do you want breakfast?, do you need a new laptop?, can I buy you a new bed?, can we break it in?).

and everything is great at first. you adore the attention, the grandeur way he asks you to be his partner, how he moves you in quick, loves you even quicker. but, after a while, it just becomes a bit…much.

his love is never ending, which shouldn’t be a bad thing, but his love is also—everything. it’s in every crevice of your body, every nook and cranny between the walls, every exhale you take. he’s there—always just there—always just close and lingering and clingy (where are you going? can I come with you? why are you looking at me like that? don’t you love me? I love you, I love you so much, so where are you going?)

it’s not until you’re suffocating that you realize your mistake, all too late. Gojo is all encompassing, takes up all the space in your head and your line of vision and your breaths and the blood that flows in your veins. he loves you—this was what you wanted, right?—but you never wanted this, this obsession that bleeds from his very being every second that he’s near you, which is every second of every single fucking day. you never wanted any of this.

“Baby?” Gojo calls from the other side of the locked door, clawing at it like some forlorn house cat even though you know he could take it down if he so pleased. “Are you almost finished? I miss you,” his voice is a plead, as if his heart is shriveling up in his chest with every second he’s not pressed against you.

with a sigh, do you finally lift yourself from the corner of the bathroom floor, unfolding your limbs with a groan. you don’t dare look at yourself in the mirror, fearing the image of the hollowed person that is bound to stare back at you. with hesitation, do you finally unlock the door. you don’t even have to pull it open before Gojo is barging his way in, engulfing you in long arms that seem to wrap around you like some never ending boa constrictor.

“You’d never try to leave me, right? Because you love me so much.” Gojo says into your hair, his voice one that tries to convince you of its truth. and there is some there, along with the guilt of ruining him in this grotesque way that you have no other choice but to accept and live with until it suffocates you.

“Yeah.” your murmur, sinking into his body, let him hold you so close, you think you can feel his veins pulling at his skin to intertwine with your own. “Yeah, I love you, Satoru.”

(he doesn’t dare tell you that he knew all about that little potion you whipped up, how it never had any actual affect on him for more than just a couple hours. but this was what you wanted, right? for him to love you? so why not continue to just love you in his own way that’s somehow, convincingly, all your fault? why not let you take the blame for his greediness? you wanted this, right? right?)

[aynavaano]

The Cuddle pile

The Bad Batch x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Summary:

You and your boys are on shore leave and you spend it like you always do, at your home, a tiny flat on Coruscant. You all lounge on the sofa watching a holomovie with varying states of interest. The last missions have been especially rough and when you finally get to relax you start feeling a bit unwell. Your boys notice and take good care of you.

Notes:

This is a quick completely self-indulgent comfort fic I mainly wrote for myself but sharing is caring so I hope some of you enjoy it too. Reader is in an established relationship with all four of the original Batch members (sorry Echo stans) This is mostly comforting fluff that I wrote on an evening when I was feeling down but there is a hint of smut delivered by Crosshair (oral f receiving) and a bit of grabby hands from the rest. This is maybe not my best work but the target audience was met (me, I was the target audience) also no beta on this one, we die like our hope for Techs return. NO CLONECEST

The holomovie flickers on the screen, casting shifting shadows across the dimly lit living room of your tiny apartment when a sense of fatigue begins to settle over you. The last few missions have taken their toll, leaving you drained, both physically and mentally. You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, trying to ignore the growing unease in your stomach.

Hunter is the first to notice your discomfort. He glances over at you, concern etched in his features.

"You alright cyar’ika ?" he asks, his voice tinged with worry.

You muster a weak smile and shrug, not wanting to alarm the others.

"Just feeling a bit off, that's all," you reply, hoping it is nothing serious.

Tech, turns his attention away from his datapad, looking up at you and Hunter, who pulled you onto his chest, where you nestled your head against him.

"What's happening?" he inquires, having heard only half of the conversation, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Hunter's gaze remains fixed on you as he explains.

"She’s not feeling well."

Tech's eyes widened in understanding before he turns to you.

"Would you like some tea? Maybe a hot water bottle?" he offers, already getting up to fetch the supplies.

Grateful for the offer, you nod eagerly.

"That sounds perfect, thanks, Tech," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wrecker, always happy to carry you around, pipes up from his spot on the sofa.

"You wanna go lie down mesh’la? Want me to put you to bed? Or a hot bath?" he suggests, his concern evident in his voice.

You nod again, feeling touched by their care and concern.

"Yeah, bed sounds great," you murmur and wiggle yourself out of Hunters embrace.

With a gentleness that only you experience with him, Wrecker scoops you up in his arms, effortlessly carrying you to your bedroom. The familiar comfort of the bed envelopes you as Wrecker lays you down gently, tucking the blankets around you with love and care.

It is a huge soft bed fitting all five of you, that you acquired after your relationship with the squad had evolved into something more serious and you all began to spend your shore leave together in your home.

Nestling around in the bed, you feel the weariness creeping in, your muscles aching with every movement. Summoning the last of your energy, you turn to him and murmur.

"Wrecker, could you grab the weighted blanket for me? I think it should be in the reading nook."

Wrecker smiles softly.

"Sure thing," he replies before bounding out into the living room in search of the coveted blanket.

Moments later, Tech enters the room, a steaming cup of your favorite tea in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. He sets them down on the bedside table before turning to you, concern etched in his features.

"Need anything else?" he asks, his voice soft.

You hesitated for a moment before mustering up the courage to ask.

"Would you mind staying with me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with vulnerability.

Tech's response is immediate. With a small smile, he nods.

"Of course, I'm happy to, if that makes you feel better," he says, his eyes warm with affection.

Quickly, Tech strips off his shirt, knowing you like to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and settles into the bed behind you, letting you rest against his chest.

Just then, Crosshair pops into the room, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Heard you wanted a weighted blanket," he quips, his eyes dancing with amusement as he walks over towards you discarding the toothpick from his lips.

Before you can respond, Crosshair sheds his shirt just like Tech did and joins you on the bed, settling beside you with a playful smirk. With exaggerated movements, he drapes himself over you, mimicking the sensation of a weighted blanket.

You can’t help but laugh at his antics, feeling the tension melting away with each chuckle.

"Yeah, much better," you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you snuggle deeper into the warmth of your makeshift blanket called Crosshair, stealing a kiss while you’re at it.

When Wrecker returns with the weighted blanket in hand, carrying it as it weighs nothing while you always struggle to pick it up, his eyes widen in excitement at the sight of the cozy cuddle pile forming on the bed.

"Didn’t know that was the plan! I wanna join too!" he declares with childlike enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

You chuckle warmly, patting the space beside you to indicate where he should settle. "Come on, big guy, plenty of room for you," you encourage, your voice filled with affection.

With a gleeful whoop, Wrecker wastes no time shedding his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him clad only in his boxers. Before jumping into the bed he calls out to Hunter, who is still in the living room, his voice echoing through the small flat.

"Hey Hunt, get over here unless you wanna be left out!"

You hear the holomovie going silent and moments later Hunter enters the room, drawn by Wrecker's summons, where he is greeted by the heartwarming sight of you all intertwined in a mass of limbs and cuddles. You are nestled in the middle, with Tech on one side and Crosshair on the other, their arms wrapped around you protectively.

A soft smile tugs at Hunter's lips as he quickly strips down to his boxers and approaches the bed, his heart swelling with affection for your connection.

Climbing onto the bed, he moves with a gentle grace, his movements speaking volumes of the love he holds for you. When he reaches your side, he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch conveying a depth of emotion beyond words.

Settling between your thighs, Hunter envelops you in his embrace, his hand reaching up to you, finding its way under your shirt and softly caressing your belly.

"I'm sorry I ruined the evening," you murmur, feeling a pang of guilt for disrupting the movie night.

Tech shakes his head.

"I didn't want to watch that movie anyway," he quips, offering you a reassuring smile.

Hunter's response is filled with warmth as he squeezes your hand gently.

"Spending the evening cuddled up with you in bed isn't exactly my definition of ruined," he says, his voice soft and sincere.

You can’t help but giggle at their reassurances, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

"You always take such good care of me, I already feel a bit better," you admit, grateful for their understanding and support.

“Just like you always take care of us mesh’la” Wrecker adds, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’d know a way to make you feel even better”

Crosshair's smirk catches your attention, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity at his suggestive comment, knowing all too well what he is up to, it’s Crosshair after all, but you decide to play along.

"Oh really?," you chuckle, catching his mischievous smirk.

"And what way might that be to make me feel even better?"

His smirk widens into a grin as he leans in closer.

"Well, let's just say I have a few ideas in mind," he teases, his tone suggestive yet playful before kissing you softly.

"Alright, Cross, surprise me," you say kissing him back, this time allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Move over Hunter and let me put that position to good use, seems like you won’t”

Crosshair's playful command draws a collective chuckle from the group as Hunter obediently shifts from between your thighs, making room for Crosshair to take his place. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he settles in, his eyes not leaving yours.

He begins kissing your thighs softly and when he looks up at you, seeking confirmation, you meet his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. With a subtle nod, you silently give him permission to proceed, your heart racing.

With practiced ease, Crosshair slides your panties off, his touch feather-light yet electrifying against your skin.

“Would you mind helping her Hunter?” he hisses towards his brother.

Hunter, who’s been busy kissing and nibbling on your neck, moves to assist you, gently helping you out of your shirt with a tender caress, lovingly fondling your bare breasts as soon as they are free, his touch a soothing balm against the lingering ache of fatigue.

Crosshair's touch is different today, not intense and demanding, but gentle and tender as he begins to kiss his way down your belly. Positioned between your parted legs, his eyes burn with an intensity that betrays his soft touch, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs with feather-light kisses.

When he finally reaches your pussy and begins to kiss along your slick folds, his tongue licking long strokes from your entrance up to your clit, a low moan escapes your lips, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

Each languid stroke, each delicate flick of his tongue, is met with a chorus of sighs and gasps as he teases you, his movements slow and deliberate, worshiping you in a way so different to how he normally does with you.

When he feels you are wet and relaxed enough, he parts your swollen lips with a gentle push of his fingers, his touch igniting a wildfire of sensation that consumes your senses.

He slowly slides two fingers inside you and begins thrusting in and out, drawing lewd sounds from your lips.

“Thats it cyar’ika, let go, let me take care of you”

The way he stretches your walls and the vibration of his voice against your core makes you arch off the mattress, pushing yourself further onto his fingers. He intuitively responds, deepening his thrusts and curling his fingers up, seeking out your most sensitive spot.

Meanwhile, Hunter's lips find yours in a sloppy kiss, his touch tender yet hungry, as he explores the depths of your mouth with his tongue, muffling the moans and gasps Crosshair draws from you. His hands roam your body with a fervent hunger, tracing lazy circles across your skin, worshipping your body with every caress.

Beside you, Wrecker and Tech lavish attention on your breasts, their touch gentle yet firm as they take care of you.

Wrecker's fingers tease and torment your nipples, his touch sending jolts of electricity racing through your body, while Tech's skilled hands explore the contours of your breasts with a tender precision that leaves you trembling with need.

With the attention of all four of them and Crosshairs touch growing more urgent, his movements more insistent, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your body writhing with a desperate need for release.

“I’m …m…close,” you whimper between Hunters kisses.

You hear a few grunts and gasps around you as they watch you squirming under Crosshairs touch, eyes closed, back arched and your face blissfully flushed in the perfect shade of pink.

“Be a good girl and come for me”

Then he closes his lips around your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pressure and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body writhing with a desperate need for release. Each flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle of his lips, brings you closer, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself completely.

With a final thrust of his fingers up towards that extra sweet spot, he pushes you over the edge, the tension snaps, your mind goes blissfully blank and you reach out grabbing a fistful of his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, while you ride out your high on his fingers.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer as you surrender yourself to the blissful oblivion of the orgasm he’s given you. He carefully draws his fingers from your core planting a few soft kisses on your thighs to let you enjoy the last waves of your climax without overstimulating you.

When you slowly come down from your high, still panting against Hunters chest, Crosshair rises from his position between your legs, his face glistening with the remnants of your juices. He tenderly wipes away the traces of your arousal with the back of his hand before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. His touch is gentle, his lips conveying a depth of emotion that he can hardly express with words.

“You feel better, riduur?” he whispers in your ear so quiet the others can’t hear it, he thinks, but Hunter hears everything, not that he needed to hear it, he knows how his little brother feels, how madly in love he is with you.

“Much better” you hum, kissing him.

You catch sight of his arousal straining against his sweatpants, and you reach out to palm him through the fabric. But he stops you with a gentle hand, a soft smile gracing his lips as he shakes his head.

"This was just for you," he murmurs, his voice a tender whisper against your skin.

"I wanted to make you feel better, and that's enough for me tonight."

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, filling you with a warmth that transcends the physical. As Crosshair leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips, his gaze softens with affection and love.

"But I'll gladly take you up on that offer when you’re better and you've rested," he whispers, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

You nod in understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of his care and devotion.

Tech shifts over to make room for Crosshair beside you, and as the five of you settle into the comforting embrace of each other, a sense of peace washes over you like a gentle tide. In the quiet stillness of your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your boys, you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of their breathing and Crosshairs soothing heartbeat against your cheek.

Only Tech remains awake for a while longer, his fingers tapping away on his datapad with a quiet diligence. But soon, even he succumbs to the pull of slumber, slipping off his goggles and nestling into the warmth and comfort of the cuddle pile.

cyar’ika - darling/beloved

mesh’la - beautiful

riduur - wife

[easybrainrot34]

🖼️Lil Benedict Bridgerton Headcanons🖼️

These r random as perusal lol. I am truly a ✨slut✨ for this man. So here r some random Modern!AU takes that I can see happening. Hope yall enjoy. All r fluff and crack.. Also if anyone wants it I could do ✨spicy version✨let me know! Part 2 is here! Also also sorry this took me so long, i had such bad writers block lol. E N J O Y!!

Ps, my ask and request r open :)

🎨 I feel like Ben is a very "anti-toxic masculinity" kinda man. He has and will call out his brothers if he sees some shady suss shit. He had MANY talks with Anthony about not having to always be all macho macho man. I genuinely think Ben is the only one (besides Kate of course) that can get Anthony about his feelings. I also feel like he takes great care in making sure Colin and Gregory don't grow up thinking feelings = weakness.

🎨 His favorite flowers are poppies, peonies, and carnations to paint. Like he loves the little details in these flowers. When you found this out, you surprised him with a big beautiful bouquet of peonies and poppies, and he nearly cried. A week later he hung up an original painting over your bed. (omg this is so cute)

🎨 As we know our sweet Ben is a man of culture, so I feel like this man has seasonal tickets to some form of the arts. Whether it be the ballet, opera, plays, or musicals, this man loves it all. He also has a ticket plug (litterly like a w33d dealer)

🎨 We all know he can handle his liquor, but i feel like modern! Ben would be a liiiitttllle bit of a st0ner if not complete supporter of all legalization of it. I mean come on the man got h!gh in the show and painted a beautiful painting so I feel like he definitely uses it when he has art block.

🎨 He only has Facebook, Instagram, and a Vsco. Vsco and Insta purely for work. I feel like this is something Ben and Luke (Ben’s actor) have in common. I feel like he would appreciate having little to no social media presence. He has the “if i want you to know whats going on I’ll just tell you” mentality. Not in a pretentious way though, he isn’t a complete hater (although he doesn’t get influencers at all) he just likes his privacy.

🎨 He definitely leans more to the minimal style when it comes to his home decore. He loves color and nicknacks, but it’s more of just things that are more sentimental and not just cute.

🎨 Millennial coded humor. That’s it. It’s almost a little unsettling.

🎨 He is very well read. Not on the level of Eloise, but he definitely can hold himself in a debate. He definitely has a home library with the classics.

🎨 He loves a sappy romance movies / romcoms. Oh my god it’s his guilty pleasure. I’m talking cried at the end of the Notebook, wants to recreate at some point the parachute scene from Pearl Harbor (iykyk), lost his breath when rose enters the ball room at the end in Titanic, etc etc etc. 

🎨 He has fucking chapsticks everywhere. In every drawer, three of his messenger bag at all times, to a nightstand, every little nook and cranny basically. Has a deep hatred for cracked lips, and something tells me his lips can crack easily. 

[eclipzee3]

˗ˏˋ 𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` ``°•

｡･:*˚:✧｡°:. *₊ ° .

➵ alright, this is a pretty dark one. Stalking, somno.. breaking in. All that stuff. I was gonna do simon for this, but john won the poll. Not mad about it, but before you're like "they would never do this!" Respectfully just leave 😭

➵ just super dark. Rape. Break in.. Etc etc. Bad stuff. Please leave if this triggers you.

It wasn't his brightest moment, really. Jacking off in your closet was more something him at 16 would do. Not I'm his forties. (Idk what age he is and I'm too lazy to search it up).

That was the thing he liked about you, though. You were perfect. You looked perfect, too. There wasn't anything about you he couldn't enjoy. Not when you seemed so peaceful and sweet while you slept. You made him feel young again.

He reminded himself this wasn't right, and staring at your ass while you slept also wasn't right, but how could he not?

`✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

You worked at a thrift store. Just an old place where people got rid of things they either hated, couldn't stand, or just things they couldn't deal with. John found himself going there every chance he got, just to see you.

The thrift store in particular closed pretty late. Therefore, he had plenty of time to gawk at you. It was gross, yes.. a man in his forties getting off to a young woman? He even knew, but his dick was really doing the thinking for him right now.

If he just kept going in the store without buying anything, he knew he'd come off as a creep, so he just grabbed book ends. And an old looking book nook. He wasn't a reader, but it was just for his office at work to organize a bit.

He looked at you, cursing to himself. He felt like a teen. A teen boy not able to fucking control himself. But fuck.. you really did look so gorgeous. Your hair was perfect, your face.. he was sure it'd look better with his cum.

Was he getting hard?

He shook his head, grabbing his things, and walked over to the counter, the old wood floors creaking under his weight. He coughed, placing his items on the counter.

It went as usual. Scan, receipt, bag. Happy customer, yay. That's all that mattered to you. To get to the end of your shift and not get fired.

But for John it was much different. He waited for your shift to end. For you to walk home.. For him to follow. He had considered before, but he just got too scared. Too afraid to hurt his gorgeous girl.

He didn't want to do it like this.. To be creeping closer to your sleeping form.. Cock hard. He was already so horny. So desperate to feel your warm holes around him.

Would you mind if I.. Just took these?

He grabbed a pair of your panties. Cute. A pink thong with little skulls. Who were you trying to impress? A boy? He rolled his eyes. He was perfect for you. Completely devoted. So much in fact, he was going to protect you. And follow you every night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Right. So back to him jerking off in the closet, a rough and tight fist pumping his cock. "Ugh.. God.." He muttered, faster and faster, imagining your pretty ass plopping up and down on his cock. He couldn't get enough of you. He couldn't stop himself.

𝗛𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳.

He unintentionally hastily went over to the side of your bed.. His eyes drifting to your panties. Holy fuck. A hole. In your panties.

If it wasn't meant to be then he was crazy. (He is definitely not sane.)

Immediately he pounced on your body, quickly moving your legs up and pushing his cock inside you. "Fuck!" He stuttered to himself. So tight.. So so warm.

You slowly began to wake up, blinking and trying to turn over.. Before realizing you were being fucked. You couldn't see, not in the dark but with an attempt to stop him.. You were folded in half and your mouth covered. He plowing into you.. Relentless force fucking your poor hole.

How could he? To your dearest pussy? Poor thing. Slowly.. He shushed you, grunting softly as you whimpered and whined, his cock still doing an absolute number on you.

You squirmed and kicked.. But to no avail. He cock squished out your walls, stretching your poor body too much. It was thick.. Almost painful.

"Shsuh baby.. I'll be quick." The man said. Why? Why did this happen to you? Was he going to. .?

No!

You thrashed, biting down on some skin of his palm the best you could, your hands clawing deeply into his skin. "Ah fuck.." He grunted harder. "Keep trying.. Getting me closer, hun.." He muttered, whimpering a bit himself before coming inside you.. Deep.

You shook your head.. Crying now whilst he slowly got up off you, his fingers teasing your pussy. "Don't cry.. It's alright baby." He gave you a kiss as if it was daily routine.. Before putting a hand under your head and raising it, putting your lips closer to his semi hard cock. Slowly it was getting soft, but it didn't stop him from rubbing his tip on your lips, just like it were lip gloss.

"So pretty.." He sighed.. Leaning down and hugging your body. "You're such a good girl... Took my cock so well." He kissed you again.. Now crawling into bed with you.. A hand slipping in your mouth. What a monster.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

K done. Sorry for not posting for so long my sister died!! Super silly guys!!

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Let’s Get You To Bed

A/N: Not a request just something that I dreamed up. This is my first time writing anything for TKAM so please be gentle with me. 🤍

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Bad writing, typos, terrible grammar, etc. slightly suggestive dialogue at the end if you squint really hard.

Word count: 1,125

Summary: Scout wakes up not feeling good and comes for help.

~*~

It was well past midnight when you heard it. The slow creak of a doors hinges followed by the light patter of a child’s feet. It wasn’t until your bleary eyes met her dark tear stained ones that you were fully awake. She stood quietly for a moment, hands clutching at her worn out teddy bear as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

You sat up on the edge of the bed gently, looking back over your shoulder to make sure that your sleeping husband, Atticus, remained asleep. He’d had a rough few days and deserved a good nights sleep.

Running a hand through your hair, your eyes once again connected with hers and you reached for her. Smiling softly when she wasted no time in coming to you, releasing her teddy bear and letting it fall to the floor with a gentle “thud”, she clambered onto your lap. Head resting in the nook between your head and shoulder as you cradled her gently.

“Scout, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Your voice hushed in an effort to not wake her sleeping father.

“I don’t feel good…” she paused, hands grasping your nightgown tightly before carrying on, “and, Jem said to go back to bed but I can’t.”

At this you nodded, wiping stray tears that rolled down flushed cheeks, hand molding to her forehead in an effort to check her temperature. A small smile quirking her lips upward as she nuzzled against your palm, enjoying the attention.

“You do have a fever.” You whispered back, placing a kiss where your hand had been, “let’s get you back to bed, hm?”

She nodded, rubbing her eyes tiredly as you carried her back to her room. Little fingers playing mindlessly with the seam on the shoulder of your nightgown. The simplicity of it making you smile for a second before you laid her back down, pulling her covers back up.

“I’ll be right back ok?” You assured, gently combing your fingers through her hair only to have her shake her head from side to side, her hand grabbing at your arm.

“Don’t go.” She pleaded, fingers lacing with yours.

“Scout? Y/N?” Jem’s tired voice echoed quietly from across the room, before he appeared at the foot of the bed.

“Scout, I told you not to make a fuss and go to sleep.” He scolded, eyes narrowed at his younger sister.

“Shut up, Jem.”

“Quiet you two.” Your interjection grabbing both their attentions, “are you feeling ok?”

Your attention now turned to Jem as you shifted to face him. The look on his face as stoic as one his Father would fix someone with. The sight making you want to smile for a second, before looking over him. He too had slightly flushed cheeks, but being in the stage of life that he was, he’d pretend it was nothing.

“Come here.” You motioned, beckoning him toward you with your free hand. Resting your wrist on his forehead you decided he felt a bit warm too, a fact that made you bite down on your lip.

“You go get back into bed too, I’ll be there in a second.”

“But, Y/N -“

“Hush.” You smiled at him, before standing up to make your way to the bathroom. Wetting a washcloth and grabbing some aspirin, you made your way back to their shared room. Shaking your head humorously at the sight of Jem now sitting on the corner of Scout’s bed.

“Here, both of you take these.” Passing out the pills to both outstretched hands, only to be met with Jem telling you there was nothing to take them with.

“Put this on your sisters forehead and I’ll go get some water.” Passing him the washcloth, a grin turned the corner of your lips upward at the sound of them chattering, “what’s this for?”

“She’s trying to bring your fever down.”

“It’s cold!”

“It’s supposed to be! How else would you expect it to work?” Jem’s voice a bit more stern now as he explained.

“Whisper your Dad’s sleeping.” You chuckled, passing them both water to take the pills.

“I told Scout not to wake you or Atticus up but she doesn’t listen.” He stated, fixing a glare at his yawning sister.

“It’s ok.” You assured, placing Scout’s glass on her bedside table, “let’s get you back to bed too.”

Nodding tiredly, he moved across the room to his own bed, surprising you when he let you pull his blankets over him.

“If you guys need anything else…” you paused, tucking the blanket under his chin, “holler and I’ll come help you.”

He nodded tiredly, eyes almost shut as he whispered a nearly silent “thank you, Y/N.”

Your heart melting slightly at the sight of the two children. They were so precious to you, and you were so happy that they’d accepted you the way the did. It was hard to have a stepparent, but they’d seemed to have taken it in stride. The smile that covered your face, dissipating into a look of shock as you spotted Atticus leaned against the door frame.

Glasses on and hair mussed from sleeping as he surveyed the room. The moonlight highlighting one side of his face and lacing through his ebony colored locks resting heavily on the few gray hairs that had taken place on his temples. The sight soon making the shock disappear as soon as it had appeared.

Ushering him away from the door, you left it cracked slightly as the two of you tiptoed out into the hall.

“Are they ok?” He inquired, eyebrow raised quizzically as he peered back toward the door you’d left ajar.

“They’ve got fevers, they’ll have to miss school. It’s probably the flu, Maudie said it’s going around.” You explained, smiling as his fingers traced your jaw before his hand rested on your forehead.

“And you, how’re you feeling?” A teasing smile flirting on his lips, replacing his hand with a tender kiss.

“I’m feeling much better now.” Smiling up at him you returned the actions, “and how are you feeling, Mr. Finch?”

Your tone hushed, as you whispered it against his skin, eyes doe like as you pulled back to look in his onyx colored ones. Placing one last playful smooch on his cheek, which flushed under your lips.

“I’m feeling a bit warm.” Resting his arms around your waist he embraced you, your head taking up residence against his shoulder, “especially now.”

“Maybe we should get you back to bed too?” You suggested coyly, pulling back so that your gaze rested on him.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea.” A smile covering his lips with his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you back to your room

[tinycoffeeroom]

new home | arthur hill

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Hey saw you were looking for requests for Arthur hill maybe like going on your first holiday together or like moving in together x

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👤 arthurnfhill liked by arthurnfhill, lisahull_hill and 18,028 others

y/nstagram all moved in ! new roomie seems ok, he keeps singing a song about an old cowboy though?

arthurnfhill FEEL LIKE JOHN WAYNE ↳ fan RIDING THROUGH THE CITY ON MY OWN ↳ fan JUST AN OUTLAW ON HIS WAY HOME ↳ fan THE GOOD THE BAD THE UGLY ↳ fan I'VE SEEN IT ALL ↳ y/nstagram thanks for the karaoke guys x

lisahull_hill my big boy all grown up :( can't wait to come see what you do with the place x ↳ arthurnfhill mum i've not lived at home for years... ↳ lisahull_hill you've never lived with a girlfriend though! x ↳ y/nstagram lisa i need you to come round soon and help me i'm about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions x ↳ lisahull_hill i'll pop round tomorrow x

fan why is the champagne in the sink tho ↳ y/nstagram freezer machine Broke ↳ y/nstagram on a real note though, fuck currys bc WHY has our freezer been delayed by a week ↳ fan i'll fight them queen ♥️ y/nstagram

fan the books... can't wait to see the book nook!!! ↳ y/nstagram i'm so excited!!! annoyed arthur half to death talking about different bookcase options but i found a gorgeous set on facebook marketplace and its gonna look SO GOOD!! ↳ fan pls give us a tour!!!! ↳ y/nstagram keep a look out on my stories xx

georgeclarkeey it's not too late to come home arthur, your side of the bed feels so empty x ↳ y/nstagram womp womp go shag the other arthur or something ↳ georgeclarkeey he won't open his door :( ↳ arthurtv im protecting my peace ↳ georgeclarkeey im grieving the loss of my boyfriend and you won't even give me a cuddle </3 ↳ arthurnfhill i'm not dead????? ↳ georgeclarkeey it's like i can still hear his voice sometimes... ↳ arthurnfhill i hate it here

bffstagram georgeclarkeey can u have arthur over the weekend, i want a girls night with my gf x ↳ georgeclarkeey only if you take him back on the monday, i have stuff to do ↳ arthurnfhill feeling very much like basil right now ↳ willne uncalled for? ↳ miaxmon i have sole custody of basil pls delete arthur it's a sore spot for will ↳ arthurnfhill only if he apologises for making fun of my mullet AND THEN getting one himself ↳ willne y'know what the basil jokes aren't too bad

fan need a relationship like theirs PLEASE ↳ arthurnfhill all she does is bully me??? seek help ↳ y/nstagram ARTHUR i only bully you like 50% of the time... and you do it too ↳ arthurnfhill i would never bully my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram the notebook night? ↳ arthurnfhill ok point taken ↳ fan parents <3 ♥️ y/nstagram, arthurnfhill

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Even with all the preparation that had gone into the move, you were still unprepared for the overwhelming amount of boxes that lined the halls of your new flat.

You and Arthur had discussed the idea of buying a house, but with his job being based in central London and the two of you still being young, renting a flat seemed like the best option before diving head first into the nightmare that was mortgages and white picket fences.

The first night the two of you moved in, only the TV and mattress had been unpacked, the stress of bringing all the boxes in tiring the both of you out to the point where the mattress lay haphazardly in the middle of the room and the TV lay slanted against the living room wall.

Arthur lay beside you, eyes half heartedly looking through Uber Eats open on his phone. "Chinese or Indian?"

You took a moment, trying to decipher what you would prefer most. "Hmm, maybe pizza? The other two require utensils and to be honest, I have no idea where our kitchen stuff is."

Arthur hums in response, turning his head to look past you. "I'm pretty sure they're in the bathroom, I think I tripped over our bowls when I went to pee."

Exhaustion must be catching up to you as you don't even question how the boxes labelled "KITCHEN" in black sharpie had ended up there.

After the pizza had been ordered, the two of you lay in comfortable silence, the quiet drone of whichever episode of Friends was queued on the TV floating through the air. A bottle of red wine had been opened at some point and the two half full glasses sit precariously on fake wood floors.

You must have slightly fallen asleep at some point, coming around to the smell of freshly cooked dough and a smiling Arthur staring down at you.

"You were dead to the world, not even the sound of me stacking it over our bathroom towels could wake you." He laughs at the memory, sitting down beside you and handing you a box.

You raise the lid, welcoming the mouthwatering scent of pizza as you shuffle up to sit. "I could smell the pizza."

Arthur guffaws around the piece stuffed halfway into his mouth, eyeing you playfully. "Of course it was the food that raised you from the dead."

Shoving his shoulder with your own, you tuck into the meal in front of you, eyes tuned on the TV as The One with All the Thanksgivings starts playing.

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It had been a stressful few days. You weren't lying when you told Lisa you were about to have a breakdown over sofa cushions. Luckily, she'd popped round the next day, armed with a small mini fridge and freezer which she made Arthur carry into the house. You could have cried when she produced a cute "congratulations on your new home" card and a bouquet of sunflowers.

The two of you sat on the half put together sofa and scoured the Dunelm website for all their cushion options, opting for some light brown teddy bear ones and some darker brown velvet cushions. Arthur stayed out of the interior design chat, instead opting to run some water into a pint glass for the flowers and bring over two cups of tea for both of you before he disappeared off into his studio room to sort out the wiring.

"Typical man, leaving us to make the place look pretty."

You giggled at Lisa's comment, pointing out the framed artworks sitting propped against the wall. "He picked those out, to be fair to him. We decided he'd do the decorating and I'd just focus on the furnishings."

You continued on your Dunelm hunt, bookmarking everything you thought would look good in your new home, Lisa throwing in a few suggestions as to what you may need. By the time the two of you felt you had sufficiently scoured the website, it was nearing dinner time. Arthur popped his head round the corner to ask if you wanted him to run out and grab something to eat, but Lisa shook off his question, grabbing your hand and her car keys.

"Y/N, we'll nip out now and pick up a few bits, including a vase," she eyed the pint glass begging to tip over, "and we'll pick up some dinner too."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, smiling at how Lisa had taken you under her wing. Ever since he'd introduced the two of you, she'd taken an immediate shining to you, often sending you silly pictures that reminded her of you or organising coffee dates for the both of you to catch up.

One round trip for a vase and some cleaning essentials as well as a nice pub that did takeaway carveries later, you and Lisa bundle through the front door, giggling about the man in the elevator who had assumed the two of you were mother and daughter. Lisa had replied a cheeky "not yet" and had thrown a wink your way.

Arthur had moved from his studio to the living room, head popping over the back of the sofa at the sound of the two of you laughing. "What did I miss?"

One look at Lisa had you both giggling again, waving Arthur off as you unpacked the takeaway bowls of carvery and scoured the boxes for cutlery.

Arthur eyed the two of you warily, directing his mum to the sofa as he came to search for some glasses for the bottles of Coke you had picked up as well. Dropping a small kiss to the back of your neck, he smiled fondly when your eyes meet.

"This is nice."

You hummed, working on taking off the plastic lids. "Yeah, we were lucky to find the pub, Google Maps was useless."

He shook his head, one arm wrapping around your waist as he looks at his mum setting in on the sofa. "No, I mean this. Being sat in our home and listening to you and Mum laughing about god knows what. I was so worried when I introduced you that she wouldn't like you, I don't even know why, it's impossible to hate you. But, it's nice. I'm happy."

You turned in his grasp, hand coming to rest on the side of his neck. A soft smile overtook your lips at the serene expression on his face. "I'm happy too. I'm glad we did this. I love you."

He matched your smile, a small "I love you too" passing his lips before he pressed a soft kiss to yours.

"Hey, hungry mum over here!"

Lisa's voice broke the bubble around the two of you, both of you looking over to see Lisa smiling fondly from the sofa.

"My apologies, dear Lisa, let me bring it over now!" Laughing softly, you press one last kiss to Arthur's lips before sliding out of his embrace.

The three of you eat in comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the TV and the occasional comment about the dinner from one of you.

The sun had long since set and you and Arthur tried to convince Lisa to stay, but she shook her head, stating the two of you needed your own space and left soon after, leaving behind warm hugs and a kiss to both of your heads.

Choosing to tidy up tomorrow, you both head to bed. You slid in first, welcoming Arthur's warm embrace as you settle in for the night. He peppered soft kisses to your shoulder blade, nuzzling his head into the spot afterwards. "Goodnight, I love you."

Brushing a hand through his unruly hair, you dropped a kiss to the crown of his head. "I love you too." Taking in the surprising quietness of central London, you closed your eyes, excited to wake up to a new day in your new home.

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a/n: love love loveeeeee doing arthur hill requests <3 had to include my queen lisa x