#i’m embarrassed to admit i get there more often than is probably good for me ahskdhd

[housecow]

I know what you want, more than anything else in the world.

You have a pretty good brain, for a cow. It's quick, and it's full of interesting things, but sometimes, it works just a little too hard, and convinces you of things you don't really want... And, sometimes, it tells you that you need to be skinnier. Which is a bit of a problem- because, you really like being big. You've always been a heavy girl, and now that you're embracing it a little, you feel happy, and fulfilled in two ways... But...

What you really want, is someone who can quiet your brain down for a little bit. When you start thinking too many cow-thoughts, and you start running your mouth, you need someone to quiet you down, and fill you up to the absolute brim with something sweet and rich. You want someone to put you in that slow, happy haze you get, when you've stuffed yourself so fat that you can't move anymore. You want to be reminded how much being fat and heavy makes you happy- you want to be rewarded, like a good cow, with belly rubs, and thigh squeezes. You want strong hands framing your soft, supple, plush belly. You want your belly to be under a lot of pressure, and your head to be totally empty.

You need to get knocked up as soon as possible. Eating for three will be the most rewarding thing you ever do. Being always swollen, with the perfect excuse to eat as much as you like- furthermore, having a master who dotes on you, and your womb, hidden under that thick layer of fat, all while your brain quiets down from your mommy-brain... You were never supposed to be skinny. You were made to be the plumpest, sweetest little cow, and you want to be reminded, every moment of every day.

this fucking ask. wtf. i can’t read the whole thing without having to look away at least once it’s so much and just. 🫣 🥰🥰🥰 first off. how did you know i’ve been thinking abt slowing the gain. second—everything you said is right 😭

[starkwlkr]

annoying little brothers | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)

part 2 part 3

Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.

She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.

“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.

“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.

“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.

“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.

“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.

Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.

“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.

“That was all me, I needed no help.”

The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.

“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.

“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.

“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.

“Does he knows you’re famous?”

“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.

Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.

The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.

“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”

“Would he do that?”

“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.

“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.

“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”

“Do you think Lando got your number right?”

“I don’t doubt him ever.”

“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.

“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”

“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”

“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”

Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.

“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.

“Do you know his middle name?”

Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”

“I believe it’s William.”

“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”

“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.

“Daniel did.”

“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”

The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.

“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.

“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.

“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.

“She got them all right.”

“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.

“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.

“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.

“No, I just love to lie.”

The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.

Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”

“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.

“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”

“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.

“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.

Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”

“Excuse me, this is all natural.”

“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.

“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”

“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.

“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.

“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.

“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”

“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.

“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”

“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.

“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.

“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.

The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.

“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.

“No, actually we’re just good friends.”

“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.

“I don’t think about him.”

“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”

“I don’t know, I just work here.”

[writella]

The Confession

Synopsis: Confessions shared with the wrong person gone so sinfully right.

Details: rick grimes x reader, afab!reader, smut—masturbation, unprotected sex, riding, both rick and reader being desperate in the dark. I made the exact reason for the confession and occasion very vague. 18+, wc: 2.6k. Proof read, but there might be some errors.

A/N: Not sure how much I like this one, but I had this idea back in early October and I wanted to finish it and give you guys something after a whole month.

I miss you, I’m sorry. Hope you’re all well!! With love from writella. ♡

Your voice is solemn and heavy as you sigh before starting, “I don’t do this very often,” you say, “I hope this is okay.” Your eyes lowering shamefully as you stop. It’s only the first sentence and you’re finding it hard to continue. It’s almost as if there are needles piercing into your throat. “I just feel so embarrassed,” you admit.

Then you pause.

No response from him comes after.

Only silence fills the dark and hallow space of the wooden confession box. Only your thoughts, every creak you made on the built-in bench, and the light wind that rustled from the cracked door were heard.

You wait a second longer.

Hoping.

But still, nothing.

Part of you was suspecting that Gabriel would have been more inviting, telling you it’s okay; and doing so with his kind and gentle voice, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing anything it seemed. You only saw the silhouette of his face when you walked inside— the outline of a nose and mouth, really. He seemed to be sitting as far from the small barred window as he could, but you didn’t dare look again. You didn’t even turn on the light fixture in the corner. Your fear was all too big, and his unwavering quietness made it worse.

Maybe you had come at the wrong time, maybe you interrupted him. You almost wanted to ask. But maybe confessions happened in complete silence… you didn’t know anymore, but at this point, you were hoping so. You had already wasted five minutes and managed only one sentence. Perhaps he heard the fear in your voice and was just trying to be a good listener… yes, maybe, you pretend as you urged yourself to start again:

You breathe in sharply, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” The words come out in an uneasy, hushed whisper. “It happens a lot and I know it’s wrong. And you’re probably going to look at me differently after this, but I have to tell someone so I can stop.”

Your eyes screw shut, the next phrase coming out jumbled and continuous as you try to explain yourself quickly: “I’ve journaled about it and told myself it’s wrong but it’s not helping.” You start to weep, almost laughing at yourself, “I feel so stupid.”

You sigh and you almost think you hear him do so too, but you keep going.

“I’ve been thinking about someone,” you finally say. “For a long time. And I know it’s bad, I know it, but I do it anyway. It's all I think about.”

Another pause.

You catch your breath.

You wait.

But nothing.

So, you start again.

“I think I love him sometimes.” And if you couldn’t get any more timid, your cheeks flush, and your voice grows quieter, “I like his hair, and his eyes, those button-downs he always wears…” you smile at yourself, these were silly things, “Even his beard.”

And then you hear him shuffle, and a light sound is emitted.

It startles you, but silence ensues again thereafter. Maybe you imagined it.

“I like his kindness too. People would usually say strong or giving, but that’s what I like to tell him— that he’s kind. I think he’s kinder than other people give him credit for. He’s just protective. Everyone, and especially himself, we put a lot of pressure on him to make the hard decisions, but, really…” and there it is, “that's not the only way I think about him. There are things–” your throat tightens again– “ things that I think about. And things that I do.” Your eyes screw tight as you force yourself to say it, “I touch myself.”

Another bout of silence comes before the question.

One you’d never suspect.

“Can you describe it?” The voice asks, dark and curious.

The cool spring air of the night turns cold, but it adds no relief to the summer heat that burns in your heart as it begins to beat painfully. The texture in his voice, the inflection at the end that lined the sentence as a request, it rings through one ear and out the other and back again in a cycle.

You knew who it was.

“What?” You shriek so lightly as if playing dumb would help you now. He knew who you were talking about, you made it so desperately obvious.

“Can you,” he repeats steadily, “describe it?”

“I… shouldn’t.”

“What other better time could there be?” You can’t tell if he truly means it. His voice remains firm and lets out no hints of his true intentions, but despite doubt, you start anyway. He’s right after all, you’re in here because there hasn’t been a better time.

“I- I start by touching up my thighs, trailing up slowly… I always get so nervous… I never do it fast because I know I shouldn’t do it while thinking about you- about him,” you correct yourself, squeezing your thighs together, your hands gripping the bench tightly.

“But you do it anyway.”

“I do,” you reply meekly.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“I can't.”

“What happens when you finally reach all the way up?”

“Gotta touch myself.”

He puts his hands on his knees, making sure his voice stays leveled. “Where do you start?”

“Rubbing my clit.”

“Do it.”

And then you do. You truly can’t help it. Your fingers slide down your hips to the front of your heat, chilly fingers pressing up against your lips over your underwear.

He hears the little sigh as you finally allow your finger to reach your clit in between.

“How does it feel?”

“My fingers are cold right now, so,” a quick breathy laugh leaves you, “ good, really good.” You rub your fingers in slow circles, but your hand and hips jerk, forcing you to speed up, but you try, try to not seem so pathetic to yourself as if there was any attempt at going back now.

His voice’s a slight strain as he asks, “And what do you think about?” He starts to rub his thighs, feeling his cock stir to the side of his jeans, making the material feel tighter than it truly was. His fingers trail closer, knuckles brushing against his erection. He’s pretending like he can stop himself too. “What does he do in your head, sweetheart?”

“He watches,” you say as your movements speed up again. You really can’t help it now, his voice edges you on. Your hand goes under the band of your underwear, fingers collecting wetness below to bring up to your clit, “He’s standing at the edge of the bed,” you tell him, “he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and then he starts taking off his belt… He’s smiling.”

If only you knew that hearing how bad you wanted him was making him do the same thing on the other side.

You’re panting now, one foot comes up to the bench as you slide yourself over to press your back into the corner of the wall, your head tilting back as well, using the assistance to grind into your hand. “He thinks I’m pretty.”

“That's cause are.” He’s lowered his pants now and takes his cock out from under his boxers. Your words make his mouth gape and his eyes close as he begins to stroke himself. “You really are.”

His smile fades as he bites down on his lip lightly. You’re so needy for him and so desperate to admit it. It makes him feel powerful. Almost God-like, despite you both starring as the other’s tempter. So sweet and sinful the sounds you’re making are. How could he not give in? How could he not make you wet for him even at church and stroke his cock as it happens? You’re making it so easy with every whine and little moan you try to withhold. He could hear you getting restless, but he wants to make you want it more, “Keep goin’,” he tells you. “What’s happening now?”

“I put two fingers in,” you whine, “not big enough. Never enough.”

You let your two fingers stay inside you as you press your palm down on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the underside of your hand. You stop for a moment to take off your pants and underwear entirely, discarding it on the floor before you return to your spot. You put one leg up on the bench as you continue to finger yourself.

“I want him so bad.”

“How bad, sweetheart? What would you let him do?”

“Anything, Rick.” You say it louder than you intend, you’re losing yourself. “Anything for him.”

“Anything?”

“Everything.”

After that only nonsense comes out, simple sounds of desire and pleads. It was becoming too much to talk.

Rick felt the same. His hand on his shaft made quick and short movements, his lips parted and pink, more red on the bottom than the top from when bit his lip again at the words anything and everything for him. He repeated it in his mind, listening to your sweet little whines in the present. His head tilts so far back that it bangs on the wooden wall and he hisses.

It reminds him to compose himself.

Even after you let out another moan of his name, and he swears he could almost hear just how wet you are now, the squish of your fingers going in and out, louder and louder.

He swallows hard and takes a breath before he says, “What if I say I want you in here right now?”

That’s when your movements completely stop. You can hear the wind swirling again. You were speechless.

He turns to the netted window. You two can’t see each other but you know he’s looking. “C’mere.” He says slowly. “Now.”

And after that, your body takes control. Swift and instantaneous you move from your door to his, shutting it hard. You don’t even take a moment to look at him, it was too dark anyway, and that’s not what mattered. You’ve already dreamed of his curls, and the pierce of his blue eyes. You knew what he looked like. It’s time to know how he felt.

Rick takes off his shoes and fully lowers and discards his pants. Before he could even consider his shirt, you’re on top of him. You’re kissing his face, your lips and tongue missing his lips by just a little, but it doesn’t matter.

You begin to rock, your wet pussy making the length of his cock and thigh slick before it's even inside of you. You couldn’t help yourself and it makes him laugh, all cocky and proud. Something that you’d cross your arms to, even quip back at in any other situation but right now, it’s so fucking hot.

His hands latch onto your hips, his legs slide back to hit the wall. He raises your frame and you grab him. Your sticky fingers lace around his dick and then you both lower yourself down onto him.

You try to bottom out fast, but his nails dig into you, slowing you down. Your face reaches back with a pout and a whine as he says, “Wait,” even after he’s inside of you.

Your pussy quakes around him. You’re both trying to hold it together, but he’s faring much better than you.

His hand holds your jaw, thumbs caressing your cheeks and a tear falls from your eye, all the sensations becoming too much.

His eyes trail the sight as it rolls down and he tells you, “You’re right. I do think you’re beautiful.”

And he kisses you. Tongue slipping past your lips just as quickly as they depart, going to whisper in your ear: “Go on now,” he smiles, “show me everything.”

You begin to rock against him instantly. Initiating the kiss this time, your tongue slips into his mouth but his goes on top of yours. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening it, and you continue to take charge below as you ride him.

You squeeze around his cock tightly with every movement forward and you hear a strangled groan come out of him as his dick twitches at the sensation.

It makes you moan so loudly, you could wake somebody up.

But it doesn't matter.

You could even come right now just from feeling him inside you for the first time.

And it doesn’t matter.

“I've wanted you for so long, Rick!” You tell him.

He’s all that matters.

“You’ve got me.” He tells you breathlessly, kissing down your neck with his hand tugging on your hair. “You always could’ve.”

Now you know you’re all that matters too.

Your head tilts to the side, eyes closed, and mouth open for each pretty sigh and slight hiss that come out as he bites and kisses.

His hands lower to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it off. You start to undo the buttons on his too.

It’s fast and rushed and messy, but now your chests can meet. You press into him. Your hips are rocking hard. Your clit meets his pelvic bone making you whine and moan again. “Really good,” you say.

Rick’s hands slide to grab your ass, helping you go faster until they rise to your hips again. His thumbs press into the crevice of your hips and legs and he starts to bounce you on him.

You grip onto his arms, assisting him in his efforts. Your eyes are still closed, you’re smiling— already in a state of bliss, yet relishing in the fact that he was pushing you further and further into the dream-like feeling that was to come: your orgasm was close, and the string of airy moans made it evident to you both.

The way his hands move to caress your waist, trail up your back, roll over your arms, and back down again feels like gliding on ice. You felt him everywhere.

“Come on,” he tells you.

“I'm trying, I want to.”

“I know,” he affirms. He takes hold of your upper arms, letting his hands slide down to yours that tightly gripped his biceps and placed them on his shoulders.

You bounce yourself down on him harder, switching it up to rock on him and give your clit attention, then repeat it again.

Once you’re back to bouncing Rick takes one hand on your hip, helping you go faster while the other rubs your clit as vigorously as he can.

Your mouth is open wide, pants and squirms, and pleads coming out wildly. You almost feel like you’re making the whole box jump along with you as you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and then… there it is: you shout his name and he speaks back to you, you both come together and ride out your high.

A glow emits as you smile, your head crashing into his as you catch your breath.

Then a noise erupts.

The church door closes.

Steps become louder and louder until they reach the open confession box door.

Rick puts his finger to your lips, silently quieting you both. Your eyes are owl wide knowing what the person in the next section would find in there. You almost squirm but Rick slots his finger into your mouth to stop it. “Quiet,” he mouths as the person next to you drops the wet garments they just touched, almost running out of the place as fast as they could.

You lower your face to his shoulder. Embarrassed, you sigh, “What are we gonna do now?”

Rick is unfazed: “Well,” he starts, picking you up by the hips, securing your legs as you wrap them around him, “we could do this one more time.”

He locks the church door and then walks you down the aisle and onto the podium, placing you gently on the ground. He’s standing above you. Just like it all your daydreams.

It was his turn now.

[teejaystumbles]

Against all odds (part 3)

Part 1 // Part 2

After his work is done and Dream finds the time to retreat to his chambers, he pulls out Hob Gadling’s notebook and reads Hob's last journal entry in its entirety.

June 8th, 1989

Dearest stranger, my friend! 

I can't believe I am allowed to call you that! Let me tell you that I nearly fainted when I found your message in my notebook this morning. I've read the words you've written a hundred times by now and still I almost can't believe them to be real. I can’t believe I’m touching the pen you must have held, that I missed your presence in my room

As devastated as I was after you didn't come yesterday, as happy am I that you chose to contact me after at all.

I'm quite embarrassed about my drunken ramblings that you must have read. There's no lie in them, but I would try and put the truth into less desperate words if I could. I must seem like a fool, fixating on you like this, after all we've only met six times so far. Still, what I wrote, that you are my one constant in life, is nothing but the truth. Our meetings are fixed points in time that I measure this immortal life of mine by now. I try not to, but meeting with you has often felt like the start and finish of an era of Hob Gadling, despite it being probably more in the middle of several. Every centennial meeting with you was the most important appointment that I would plan and prepare for (as best as I could) for months, sometimes years. So if writing to you like this is the only way I get to speak to you then I will gladly take it, and thank you for it. 

But make no mistake, dear stranger - I would love to see you again and I hope you will be ready and willing to meet me in person again someday. Because

As we are sharing truths and have both admitted that we're lonely, I would like you to know that I have never been content with our schedule. If you're willing I would love to meet you a lot more frequently. A lot of things I'd like to tell you about are long forgotten again when we meet. I guess this book is a good way to share stories with you more often now, if a regular Friday night at the pub isn't your thing. I kept notebooks like this all my life, to be able to peruse them in preparation for our meetings and choose the best stories to tell you, because I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to share them all. We got cut short so often, I wonder how you appeared to know me so well without me telling you overly much. But then, that is what you do, isn’t it?

Like with Lushing Lou, you know everyone. And now you mentioned that you do not forget anyone. Do you truly know everything about me then? Is me telling you stories of my life more of an amusement than a necessity for you? Could you actually know it all with a glance instead of listening to me ramble for hours?

Please forgive me, my friend, I do not mean to sound offended. You wrote that you enjoy our meetings - and apparently my ramblings - and I know you would not lie to me.

You do enjoy stories, then. Is that it? Are you a collector of stories? Of histories? Or is your interest actually in my interpretation of these stories and events, in how a mere human experiences the things that are so easily visible to you? I remember the spark in your eyes when I told you about printing. I was such a dewy-eyed fool then, it almost makes me laugh to remember. Did you already know what Gutenberg’s machine would mean for the advancement of humanity? Did you see me finally shaking off my rough and bloody persona as a step in the right direction? Or were you simply interested, like you said, in my experience, and how I would change over the years?I admit, waiting for you to finally tell me who you are is hard for me. But I’ve waited this long and I will wait longer, and I won’t be offended if it takes you another hundred years to tell me. We have time, after all.

Much has happened in the last hundred years. Mostly war. Humans have reached new heights of cruelty. We have become even more ingenuous at killing ourselves. We have created weapons to wipe out all of humanity. We are one wrong phone call away from destroying all we’ve accomplished with the press of a button. People are overthrowing their regimes left and right and while that is generally a good thing, I am still looking over my shoulder, metaphorically, stashing money and valuables in uncanny places like a pirate of old, in preparation for what might yet turn into a true apocalypse.

It is stressful, and I admit that the new drugs are very tempting. I have not been able to resist trying most of them over the last two decades, either to be able to relax or to be able to feel something other than dread, to see some colours in all this grey.

I participated in both wars and it left me unable to sleep properly for decades. Not that sleep was anything to look forward to. If I tell you that I’ve not had a dream since before the first World War started you will surely think that I’m being silly. That I just don’t remember them. But let me tell you, about a week ago I had the first dream since, I think it must have been 1916 or 17. It wasn’t anything magical or special, (just something very simple, about lying in the grass on a hill, looking at the sky and watching bright blue birds fly overhead) but when I woke up I cried because I felt such a profound relief! Relief that I could dream again! 

I did dream of something strange soon after, though.I dreamed of a skeletal little man, mad and raving, chasing someone that looked like a weird bird man - and here I want to make clear that I do not intend to insult you, dear friend!, but this man that looked like a bird and at the same time was neither, he reminded me of you. I can’t really put my finger on it. Just something in the way he moved, maybe, or the tilt of his head-

Anyway, it was a strange dream, and I felt reminded of you, which is why I am mentioning it, I guess. I’m sorry for rambling about silly dreams. But their return (for I am certain dreams returned, I did not simply start remembering them again) has made me hopeful again.

Maybe times are a-changin’, who knows. They always are, and hopefully for the better this time.

I could tell you a lot more of the last century, of course, but I don’t know if you care to hear war stories. I do not necessarily want to drag all those unpleasant memories up, as it took me years of therapy to get over a lot of them, if you can forgive me for summing things up like I did.

I will think of better and brighter things to tell you and write to you again soon. I would be very happy if I found a reply from you in the meantime, but please use this book at your own leisure and don’t feel pressured to answer me every time I start rambling at you.

I hope to

Yours, Hob

Yours. Dream swallows and reads the word again, traces it with his finger. Yours.

Hob considers himself Dream’s. He knows it’s just an expression used when writing letters, but somehow Dream also knows that Hob means it to be more than just an empty phrase.

His.

Dream does not know if he wants Hob to consider himself Dream’s. Dream would not trust himself with another, not before and certainly not after his ordeal. Where before his imprisonment he had felt too sharp, too lonely, too easily enraged, he now feels brittle, too thin and too vulnerable. He cannot hold another’s heart and keep it safe. He cannot be trusted with the affections of another. He has learned that, over the last billion years. Every relationship he has ever had has ultimately failed. Because of him.

He does not want Hob’s and his relationship to fail. He intends to fix this friendship that he knows he does not deserve but cannot stop himself from clinging to. Few are truly loyal to him, Dream has learned, even fewer because they want to. Hob is singular in that regard, in his enthusiasm and friendliness when it comes to Dream, despite, or rather because he does not know him. And there Dream’s thoughts circle back to his predicament again.

He wants Hob to know him and like him, but Dream is terrified that introducing himself to Hob will leave their barely-mended friendship ready to break completely.

With a heavy sigh he stops moving, realising that he has been walking in circles in his chamber while his thoughts do the same.

Maybe it will be better to simply start writing.

[shelby-fangirl00]

Hiii! Could you write a Tommy x reader where the reader grew up with the shelby and has always been super close with either John or Ada because she's closer to their age. Then as she got older Tommy started to become protective/jealous over her? Maybe some angst with some fluff at the end? You're the best (:

HI! I love this request. Sorry it took a little longer than expected! Hope you enjoy!

Kempton Race

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2327

‘Red or white?’ Ada asked me as she held up two different colored heels. 

 I turned around and faced her, tilting my head and squinting my eyes.

‘Definitely red today. You’ll ruin those white ones in all that mud.’ 

She smiled and sat down at my small kitchen table, placing the small red heels on her feet. 

Ada had invited me to join her and her family at the Kempton Race. It was a big day for the Shelby’s or at least for Tommy. Monaghan Boy was racing today. 

As we continued to get ready in my tiny home in Small Heath, we decided to have a couple of drinks. 

‘Do ya think Avery will be there today?’ She asked me, hiding the mischievous grin from behind her glass.

 I shot her a warning look and threw my whiskey back before answering. 

‘Jesus, I hope not.’ I rolled my eyes.

‘Is that over with then?’ 

‘He’s such an arse. I’m only of use to him when he needs his balls emptied. Fuck him.’ 

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. 

‘Don’t they all?’ she laughed out. 

‘Fuck em, eh?’ She said to me as he held her glass up in the air. She was referring to her strange relationship with Freddie. She didn’t like to talk about it much, but what I did know about him is that he was also a dick in the same way Avery was. 

Avery was a local boy who, on occasion, visited me in the night. It was nothing serious, just fucking. I had finally stopped letting him come by. It was doing more harm than good at this point.

I smiled and clinked my glass into hers before taking another swig. 

Me and Ada had been the best of friends since we were little girls. We were both the same age, 22. We had been inseparable for years. Growing up around Ada and her older brothers was interesting, to say the least. I was close enough to John growing up too. All three of us used to get ourselves into trouble quite often. I have many fond memories with the Shelby’s, even Tommy. Me and Tommy’s relationship, as children, mostly consisted of him teasing and embarrassing me in front of his brothers. 

Over the last couple of years, he was…different. I didn’t know what it was about him that had changed. He seemed to be protective over me at times, which I found to be odd. If me and Ada stayed out extra late with other men at the Pub, instead of scolding just Ada, I also was lectured. Was it jealousy of the other men in my life? Or did he see me as more of a sister? I could never tell with him. The tension between us lingered often. I didn’t know what we were, but he had never expressed any feelings towards me. To him, I’m probably just his sister’s friend, too young for him to even consider me in that way. 

The older we all get, the more I noticed Tommy. He was obviously always the pretty boy growing up, but now, it was different. Every time I was near him, his beauty seemed to just…radiate. It was quite intimidating. 

                                                                  -----

Ada and I were sitting in a booth at the races. Looking around to see all of the nicely dressed betting men bustling around outside. I wondered if Thomas was anywhere nearby. 

‘Don’t you worry, dear, Tommy will be here any moment now.’ Ada giggled out. 

 I swatted at her arm and shushed her. 

‘What are you talking about? Think that I’m looking for your brother?’ I chuckled out. I was, in fact, looking for her brother. I would never admit that to her. 

‘Oh come’on! I see the way you two look at each other when you think the other isn’t looking. It’s quite adorable actually!’ She whispered to me as she leaned in. 

Just then, we heard a low voice coming from behind us. 

‘Evening, ladies.’ Tommy sighed out, his hands stuck in his pants pockets, as he walked around us and sat down beside me. 

You eyed him down as he took off his cap and slid it into his coat pocket, slouching into the seat next to me. I couldn’t help but to stare a little longer than I probably should have. His sharp jaw, freckled, pale face, heavy blue eyes…

He then turned his head to face me, catching my eyes in his, face expressionless. 

‘I haven’t seen ya in a while, where ya been hiding?’ He asked me, his thick Birmingham accent flooding my ears. 

‘Not hiding, I know that much. Are you feeling lucky today, Tommy?’ I asked, quickly trying to change the subject. 

He looked into my eyes a second time, making my stomach do flips. 

‘Oh, I am feeling very lucky today, love.’ He said, his eyes not leaving mine. 

I couldn’t help but flash him a small smile, letting my eyes fall down the frame of his body before looking back out at the race track. 

Just then, two large hands grabbed my shoulders and squeezed a little too roughly. 

All three of our heads turned to see Avery standing behind me, a big drunken grin on his long face.

‘Well hello love, where have you been hiding out?’ He asked me sarcastically, mocking Tommy and I’s previous conversation that he had been listening in on.

‘What can I do for you Avery?’ I asked, standing up and facing him. Tommy stayed silent, not looking away from the racetrack now.

‘So official today! Have you already forgotten that I was just in your bed the other night?’ He questioned me loudly, trying to embarrass me. 

My face turned red and my hands balled into fists at my side. 

‘Fuck off Avery, or I’ll smack that shit eating grin right off your face!’ Ada yelled out at him from her seat beside me. 

I heard Tommy chuckle quietly at this. 

‘Alright, enough. Come’on Avery,’ I sighed out as I walked around Thomas to take Avery’s boney hand and pull him away from any more embarrassment. I walked him back towards the stables, stopping in front of Monaghan Boy’s empty one. 

‘What’s going on Avery, why are you here?’ I sighed out, crossing my arms over my chest.

He extended his arms and stepped closer, pulling me into him. 

I turned my face away, rolling my eyes at his awful attempt of affection. He was always handsy like this when he was drunk. 

‘Avery, I told you already…I can’t see ya anymore.’ I whispered, placing my hands on his chest lightly, deciding that fighting him would just make things worse.

‘Why is that? Am I not enough man for ya anymore? Would you rather have some thieving Shelby inside of you now, is that it? Is that why you’re here with them?’ he spat out. The alcohol on his breath stung my nose. 

‘Avery, you’re drunk…please- 

Just before I was able to demand that he let me go, he was jerked back completely flying and slamming down on his back. Clumps of hay and mud covered his clothes and hair. 

‘Sounds to me like you should take a hint and let go of her.’ Tommy said calmy. Avery’s eyes were wide with shock and a bit of fear. 

When Avery didn’t move fast enough, Tommy leaned over his body. 

‘Lay a hand on her again, and I’ll cut ya. Now Fook off.’ Tommy said lowly. 

Avery then stood up quickly, glancing in my direction for a quick second before walking away. Even he was smart enough to know not to push Tommy any further. 

‘Tommy…that wasn’t necessary. I had it under control.’ I said as I straightened out my dress and wiped the dirt off of my shoes. 

‘You sure about that? Cause it didn’t seem like you did.’ 

I rolled my eyes dramatically. 

‘He was just drunk. He gets handsy, but most men do in my experience. He’s harmless-’ 

‘-Until he isn’t. I’ll cut him if he lays another hand on you.’ 

My breath quickened as an awkward silence fell over the both of us. 

‘Well, what do you care anyways Tommy? I don’t need you to protect me.’

I looked up to study his expression.  

‘I don’t want you hanging around him anymore love, I’m serious.’ 

I giggled at this, stepping closer to him.

‘Even if he is a arse, I will see whoever I damn well please. What are you, my father?’ I scoffed at him. What right did he have telling me what to do and who to see?

He raised an eyebrow at me as his face hardened even more, his jaw clenching. 

‘Far from it.’ He stepped an inch closer, so close that I could reach out and touch him. My mouth hung slightly open as I practically gushed over him. His eyes were glossy and full of a look I hadn’t seen before. I could tell he was irritated by my disobedience.

I wondered if this was more than just me being protected and safe. If Ada had noticed Tommy’s affection towards me, then there must be something there, right?

‘Why are you saying all of this? Why do you care?’ practically at a whisper.

‘I care because…I can’t stand to see you wasting your time on someone like that! Some small-town fuck like him.’

‘Tommy, you realize that I am small town too! And so are you! How am I any better than him?’ I yelled out at him throwing my hands up in the air and slamming them back down at my sides. 

‘But you are more than this fucking town and he isn’t! You are different than him! You’re…intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are kind…and forgiving, sometimes too forgiving! You have a bright future compared to the rest of us.’

He stopped and rubbed his hands into his eyes and sighed loudly, realizing the weight of his words that were now up in the air. Practically stunned from this, I twiddled with my fingers before opening my mouth to speak. 

‘You really think that about me, Tommy?’ was all I could think to ask. 

His eyes slowly fell from my face to trace the curve of my body. I shuddered under his gaze, goosebumps covering the back of my neck. I imagined him kissing me, the feeling of his skin making contact with mine. It seemed so unattainable. 

‘Are my affections towards you not obvious?’ He calmly asked, his voice going up an octave. 

‘Tommy…I didn’t have a clue.’ 

‘Do you not feel the same?’ 

‘I…I didn’t say that. I just thought you only saw me as one of your little sister’s friends. I didn’t think you had ever given me a second thought.’ I tried to look at him, but he looked down at his muddy black shoes. I think my response disappointed him.

I took a few steps closer to him and placed the palm of my hand on his cheek to cup his sharp face, forcing him to look at me. As our skin connected, his eyes peered down into mine, surprised by my sudden forwardness. 

He lifted his hand to place against mine. He turned his head slightly, letting his freckled lips plant the softest kisses on my wrist. His eyes studied the nervous expression on my face. I had never seen Tommy act so tenderly. 

A deep warmness filled up my entire body as our skin touched for the first time. We had never been this close to each other before.

 All at once, his hand gently dropped mine to place his rough fingers on my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. He let a light smile flask across his face before he craned his neck to peck my jawline. He lifted his face slightly as I turned my head to face his. 

At the same moment, our lips collided. They slowly molded against each other’s for a few seconds before parting. 

My face flushed and became red under his gaze, but my eyes never left his. 

‘Do it again, Tommy.’ I panted out, trying my hardest not to crumble underneath him.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed me again. His plump lips pushed into mine, this time with more force. Our mouths parted, and recollided again and again and again. The kiss quickly became hot and needy. His hands made their way to tangle into my hair. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest, I was sure he could feel it. 

My hands greedily clung to the clothes covering his chest. I teased him with my tongue, slightly flicking it into his mouth. He moaned desperately into my mouth as I did so, sending a warm wetness in between my legs. I couldn’t fathom what was actually happening. It felt like a fever dream. 

As I parted ways with his mouth, He softly nibbled my bottom lip in between his teeth, pulling at it lightly before letting go completely. 

I stood there, not daring to say a word. We both continued to breath heavily, our chests inflating and deflating. We quickly tried to wrap our heads around what just happened. 

I smiled up at him sweetly as his thumb then made contact with my lips, rubbing them lightly back and forth, studying them with his eyes, his mouth parted open, still reliving the feeling of my lips on his. 

‘You’re even more beautiful up close, which should be impossible.’ He stated quietly, thumbs still tracing my lips.

I smiled before lifting myself up on my tippy toes to crash my lips on his once more, not being able to get enough. I had no idea what would happen after this. What I did know is that after having a single taste of Tommy, I wouldn’t be thinking twice about Avery ever again.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive Chapter 1

Roy Kent x F1 Driver! F! Reader

3.4k (!!!!!!!!!!!) words

Warnings: Language, smut smut smut, oral (F receiving), Roy Kent being very horny, also I know nothing about F1

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @agentstarkid. Part one of two (maybe three??? We'll see!). Still learning to write smut sooooooo not sure how good it is?? Honestly this was the horniest writing I have ever done in my life.

Series Masterlist

Roy knew who you were. He knew exactly who you were. Unbeknownst to everyone in his life, he often watched you race on television, he scrolled through tweets about you, he even pictured you sometimes when he was pleasuring himself in the shower.

He was pretty sure he had a racing suit fetish now, thanks to you.

But fuck, you were something to see in person. Especially in what was probably the shortest, tightest dress he’d ever seen. It was borderline indecent- well, the thoughts in his head sure were. Roy Kent felt like a fucking teenager, hoping he wouldn’t get a boner in front of his friends and the press at this stupid party Keeley’d promised would be fun.

Much to Roy’s embarrassment, Keeley tugged him along to say hello with her and Rebecca. The women gave you quick, warm hugs, but your eyes were on Roy, unabashedly running your gaze down his muscular figure with a coolly raised eyebrow.

“The woman of the hour,” Rebecca praised. “Win number six on Sunday, hmm?”

“We’ll see,” you murmured, smirk on your face, the same smirk Roy’d seen dozens of times on television. The same smirk he wanted to kiss right off your face. You tilted your head at him. “Roy Kent,” you greeted, shaking his strong hand. “Didn’t know you like racing.”

Roy gave a curt nod, squeezing your hand reluctantly before letting go, trying to forget the fantasies he’d had about your hands roaming his body. “A bit,” he admitted, much to Keeley and Rebecca’s surprise. “Been following you a lot this season, actually.”

The coy smile on your lips had his head reeling. “I’m honored.”

You’d caught Roy Kent staring at you several times throughout the evening, an intense, fiery gaze that had electricity coursing through your body. You were pretty sure he was imagining what you looked like out of this dress; you knew you were wondering what his fitted suit would look like on your hotel room floor.

You chatted a bit more with the Richmond group, feeling a surge of pride when Rebecca and Keeley mentioned their idea women’s team, teasing Rebecca about how she should invest in Formula 1 instead. Eventually, Keeley got distracted by a very needy Jamie Tartt, and Rebecca saw some old friend who was dying to talk about Ruper Mannion’s losing West Ham, which left you all alone with a broodingly gorgeous Roy Kent.

“I’m glad Keeley managed to get you all out here,” you hummed. “It’s a fun weekend.”

“How d’you know Keeley again?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Did a magazine shoot together. She was supposed to be hanging seductively off these different drivers, all hot in like a bikini thing while they were in their racing suits. But when it came to me, they weren’t going to include her. But Keels, cheeky thing, insisted on posing the exact same way she had with Daniel and Lando and the rest of them.” The wink you shot Roy was nothing short of erotic. “It was pretty hot. Fucking magazine editor didn’t have the guts to run it, though. Scared little twat.”

Roy wasn’t sure if it was your vulgar vocabulary or the image of you with Keeley in some sapphic pose giving him a hardon. Probably both. Or maybe it was the undeniable bedroom eyes you were shooting him as you sipped your drink through the little black cocktail straw, reminding him of the images he’d created in the shower last night.

“I love this hotel,” you mused, interrupting Roy’s filthy thoughts. “They’re quite lovely. Always make sure my favorite things are in my room when I arrive. Sweets, alcohol, that sort of thing.” You raised your glass. “Better than the stuff they’re serving here, actually.”

Doing his best to maintain the bored face he’d perfected long ago, Roy shrugged. “D’you mind sharing?”

He had to be imagining the way you licked your lipstick-stained lips. “I love sharing.” With a boldness that had Roy biting back a groan, you took his hand and guided him through the crowd until the two of you reached the lift; he was grateful for the other people that filled the small space, forcing you to stand close to him, letting him feel the heat radiating off your exposed skin.

You led him off the elevator and to your suite, no signs of awkwardness or bashfulness as you unlocked your door and gestured for him to enter. Roy had stayed at enough hotels to know that your suite was one of the nicer ones this place had to offer; unsurprising, especially with all the attention you were getting this weekend, what with your sixth win on the horizon.

“Scotch?” you offered, holding up the bottle that Roy knew cost almost as much as some people’s rent.

“Perfect.” Roy helped you find a couple of glasses and watched as you poured each drink generously. He wondered if the small brush of your fingers against his was on purpose as you handed him his glass.

You tapped your glass to his with a clink. “Cheers.”

Roy eyed you as he sipped, his mind racing like your car as it finally dawned on him that the two of you were alone in a hotel room with nothing but alcohol and his bad intentions. And you were peering at him like something to be devoured. Fuck.

“Have a seat,” you urged, plopping yourself down on the couch with ease, crossing your legs and causing your already short dress to ride up, displaying even more of your thigh- on purpose, Roy hoped.

He joined you, doing his best to ignore the slightly ajar door that he knew led to the bedroom.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, exposing the neck that Roy desperately wanted to mark up. “This is about the only time I’ll get to relax before Sunday,” you sighed.

“Is that your way of telling me to hurry the fuck up and finish my drink so you can be alone?” Roy joked, hoping he was wrong as he let his arm rest behind you on the couch.

“No.” You opened your bright eyes and tilted your head towards him, your lips curved upwards. “It’s my way of saying it’s nice to have some company.”

Before Roy could think of something clever to say, his mobile vibrated in his pocket. With a heaving sigh, he pulled it out and checked the incoming message: Did I see you get on the lift with one of the racers??? Fucking Jamie needed to mind his own damn business.

“That your girlfriend wondering where you’ve gone off to?” you teased.

Roy couldn’t help his eyeroll as he texted Jamie to Fuck off. “Just Jamie Tartt.”

“Boyfriend then?”

The snort that shot out of his mouth was pure reflex. “Watch it, or you’ll be finishing that bottle of scotch all on your own.”

You turned your body towards his, gazing up at him through thick lashes. “Oh no, we can’t have that.”

Roy felt less like Roy Kent, celebrity, professional footballer, dater of models and actresses, and more like a scared teenage boy hoping his first girlfriend would rub his prick through his jeans in a dark movie theatre. Unsure, embarrassed, hopeful, not a trace of confidence. He’d be annoyed at himself if he wasn’t so busy being turned on by you.

“Feel ready for Sunday?” He had to say something, literally anything, before he flat-out asked you for a shag.

A small huff passed your lips. “Mostly. Just trying to make myself relax.”

I could help with that, Roy thought devilishly, forcing himself to sip his drink so the words didn’t slip out. “How d’you usually relax before a race?”

Finally, you looked as tense as he felt. “You’ll need to get me a lot drunker before I tell you that, Roy Kent.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up, wondering if you were implying what he thought you were implying. “Oi, I’m getting you drunk? You’re the one who invited me up here, remember?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his razzing. “I know. So forward. My mother would be fucking horrified, me having a man in my hotel room.” Your eyes travelled down his body, not an ounce of shame on your face. “Especially one that looks like you.”

Well, any shred of doubt about your intentions was certainly beginning to disappear.

“I won’t fucking tell if you don’t,” Roy quipped, his own smirk finally forming.

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Dunno if I can trust you. How do I know you’re not going to call my mum and tell her that you were in my room at this indecent hour?”

His confidence was finally beginning to show its face. “Because then you’d call my mum to tell her I’m in your room at this indecent hour.” His eyes were practically glued to your smirk.

 “Guess it’s our little secret then,” you purred.

“If I’m keeping this secret,” Roy began, eyebrows raised teasingly, “then maybe you can trust me with telling me how you relax before a race.”

You let out a scoffing laugh, one of the sexiest sounds Roy had ever heard. “Come on, Kent. You’re a big boy. I’m sure you can figure it out.” Your light shove to his shoulder had him growing harder. “You probably do the same thing before a big match.”

Yep. You were implying what he thought you were implying.

His silence worried you for a moment. “Not scandalizing you, am I?”

“No,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your bare thigh, watching your face carefully to make sure he was reading you correctly. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you hummed, leaning towards him.

He licked his lip and flattened his palm, covering your thigh with his rough hand. “All I can think about… is how good you’re going to taste.” His hand began traveling towards the high hem of your dress. “If you’d like help with relaxing, that is.”

You pretended that his words didn’t have your pussy pulsing. “What a gentleman,” you cooed, bringing one hand up to his bicep and giving a flirty squeeze. “I’d love some help.”

That touch and your words snapped something in Roy’s mind. He leaned forward and captured your mouth in a rough kiss, not bothering to play nice as his tongue pushed its way past your lips. His calloused fingertips dipped under your dress, squeezing the doughy flesh of your thigh, eliciting a soft groan from you.

“Don’t want to mess with your pre-race ritual,” he huffed as his lips travelled down your jaw.

You shook your head and gripped his curly hair. “That’s alright,” you muttered, craning your neck to grant him access to as much skin as possible. “Usually think about you anyways.”

He jerked his head back, eyes wide and full of wonder and lust. “Me?”

“You, Roy Kent,” you confirmed, amused by the sweet tone coming out of his already swollen lips. “What can I say? Football’s sexy.”

“Almost as sexy as racing.” With that, he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap; you swallowed a moan when his already considerable bulge rubbed against your clothed core.

Despite your effort to play cool, Roy knew the contact affected you. He pushed his hips up into you, savoring the groan you were unable to hold back this time. So, he jerked upwards again. And again. And again. He bounced you on his lap, getting more pleasure out of the clothed humping than any other hookup he’d ever had. Your head thrown back, eyes shut, bottom lip between your teeth- even with clothes on, you were Roy’s every fantasy come true.

But Roy Kent didn’t come to your room for a clothed fantasy.

“That dress’s been driving me mad all night,” he admitted, giving a particularly rough buck upwards. “Kind of fucked up of you to still be wearing it.”

That cocky smirk returned. “Better do something about it,” you challenged.

He reached behind your back and tugged at the zipper, roughly pulling it down. Between the two of you, he was able to remove the dress without letting you off his lap.

His hands slid down your figure, roughly gripping every inch of skin he could; you were a fucking dream, even more perfect than he’d let himself imagine. It almost hurt to look at you. It actually did kind of hurt, since his pants were painfully tight.

“Let me spoil you,” he huffed, his already firm grip on you tightening. “Let me make you feel really fucking good.”

You nodded, clearly desperate for anything Roy Kent would give you. “Bedroom.”

His arousal stronger than his shitty knees, Roy stood, holding you against himself as you wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles behind his back and planting sloppy kisses to his neck. He shouldered the door open and gently laid you on the bed, biting his lip as he gazed down at you, eyes already glassy and face flushed. How could someone he had such dirty thoughts about look so angelic?

He hovered over you and let his hand trail down your body at a painfully slow pace, cherishing your involuntary shiver. He began to tug at your strapless bra, looking at you playfully.

“The fuck are you doing still wearing this?” he hummed.

You sat up on your elbows and let him unhook your bra. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes and giggling as he tossed it casually over his shoulder.

“Much better.”

Roy’s eyes widened as he let himself marvel at your breasts, groaning when he saw your nipples already beginning to swell. He raised his eyebrows at you, even more turned on when he saw the eager expression on your face. He kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his face to your chest, giving a kitten lick to your nipple. The sigh you let out encouraged him to begin his rough assault on your breasts: biting, licking, sucking. As he swirled your nipple with his tongue, you began bucking up towards him, desperate to feel that friction again.

“Is someone needy?” he teased, winking at you.

“Thought you wanted to help me relax,” you huffed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He removed his face from your breast, resting his chin between them; his soft expression clashed with the hardness you felt below his waist. “This isn’t relaxing?” he crooned.

You stroked the soft hair between your fingers. “I just need some attention somewhere else.” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down your body towards your panties, a little lacy pair that had Roy melting when his fingers grazed the already soaking material.

Fuck. Roy’d never been with a woman so fucking direct with what she wanted. It was so damn sexy; if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up falling in love with you by the end of the night.

“Silly thing’s in my way,” he mumbled, tugging down the material. He sat up so he could slide them down your legs, his mouth following his hands and pressing kisses to your skin. With your panties out of the way, he gazed up at your core. “Fuck,” he breathed, for once feeling like his favorite word wasn’t strong enough.

He brought his face between your legs, mesmerized by the sight before him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he cooed, his hot breath making you squirm. He tore his gaze from your pussy to look into your eyes. “Let me have a taste.”

His voice was wrecked, begging. His eyes were wild with desire and hunger. You’d never seen a man look so desperate before; the sight had you spreading your legs for him.

“Always wanted to know what that dirty mouth of yours could do.”

In an instant, his mouth was on your sex, a moan immediately escaping him and vibrating against you. You threw your head back, one hand tangling in his hair while the other came up to grab your breast. You groped yourself, feeling like you’d float away if you didn’t grab tight to something.

Roy was relentless. His tongue flicked your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body with each rough stroke. His stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs; you knew the spot would be completely red in the morning, but right now the harsh scratching only added to your pleasure.

His hands gripped your thighs, forcing your legs further apart to give himself deeper access. When his tongue moved away from your clit, you gave a high-pitched whine, not caring if you sounded needy. If anything, it only turned Roy on even more. Your whine turned to a moan when his tongue began lapping at your wetness, devouring you like you were his last meal.

The sounds that filled your hotel room were lewd. His moaning against your core, you beginning to chant his name desperately, and the obscene wet sounds of his tongue exploring your cunt. When his tongue dipped inside your warmth, you saw stars. He swirled his tongue, trying to reach as deep as he could, unable to believe that any part of his body was inside you.

He felt so fucking dirty, eating you out while keeping his own clothes on. He’d never done that before; normally, his clothes would be long gone by now. But, maybe for the first time ever, he didn’t give a shit about his own pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to worship at the altar of your hips, giving you everything he could and lapping up everything you offered him. Right now, in this hotel room, on this bed, Roy Kent existed for the sole purpose of chasing your high.

He was needy, desperate, rutting his hips into the mattress as his tongue continued to explore you. He returned to your throbbing clit and began sucking on it, spurred on by the way you roughly pulled his hair. Your back arched off the bed, as if you were possessed by Roy’s devilish tongue. You sure as hell felt like you were.

“You taste beautiful,” he groaned against your heat. “Want to fucking taste you forever.”

“I’d let you,” you managed to gasp, feeling like something in you was about ready to snap.

Roy chuckled darkly against your sex. “If you’re still talking in complete sentences, I’m not doing my fucking job.”

With that, he dove back in, his mouth brutal and merciless, almost mean in its attack on your sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt a surge of pride as your moans became more ragged, your tugs at his hair became erratic, and your legs began to squeeze the sides of his head.

“Fuck, Roy,” you cried, your eyes suddenly as wet as your core. “Gonna- gonna-”

You didn’t need to say it. Roy felt the throbbing of your clit, his cue to return to your cunt to lap up your juices; some perverse part of him wanted to bottle the stuff and drink nothing else for the rest of his life. Instead, he ravished you, not caring that your body began to writhe from the overstimulation; he wasn’t going to waste a single exquisite drop. Your vision went white, and you swore you were going to pass out. Fuck, if you died right now- which felt like a very real possibility- you weren’t sure where you’d go, because heaven was Roy Kent’s tongue.

Satisfied that he’d gotten every last bit that you’d dripped out, Roy lifted his head to look at you, his ragged breathing filling the now quiet room. His beard was soaked, practically dripping with your wetness. His wild eyes bore into yours as he crawled up your body, hands gripping the sheets as he hovered above you. Without a word, he captured your lips in a deep, fervid kiss, sharing your delicious taste with you.

Finally coming back down to earth, you tugged at the collar of his shirt, a teasing smile forming on your glistening lips. “How the fuck do you still have clothes on?” Roy had thought you moaning his name was his new favorite sound; instead, he now knew that it was your breathless, post-orgasm voice.

“Wanted to focus on you,” he answered, giving your nose a tender kiss.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Roy Kent. Absolute gentleman in bed. I’ll make sure to write that on the stall in the ladies’ room.” You ground your hips into his, relishing the knowledge that you were leaving a wet stain on his trousers. “Should we fix your clothing situation then?”

To your absolute shock, Roy shook his head. “This was for you to relax before the race, remember?” His tender expression gave way to a look you could only describe as sinful. “You can take my pants off after you win on Sunday.”

[transmascnaotoshirogane]

safety net

hello linked universe fandom, we have returned after months with queer rabbits. tried a more spaced-out format, trying to please people who said our other writing style gets too confusing. (i just think they cant read -dex)

ao3 link; x

“What’re you doin up here, rabbit?”

“Ah—oh! Honeybee, hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”Ravio turned to the side, watching as Legend sat down next to him on the roof.

Legend just hummed. “What’s wrong?”

“...huh?”

“You only do this when you’re upset. What’s wrong?”Legend shouldn’t push him, not really, but it’s the only way Ravio ever admits when something’s bugging him. They’re as stubborn as each other sometimes.

For a minute, it’s quiet, the only sounds heard being each other's breaths. Then, “I get scared when you’re away,”Ravio whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “I get scared that you won’t come back. That you’ll get hurt, or worse. I mean—you got stabbed, bun. That’s—that’s scary.”

“I don’t like being away either,”Legend admitted. “I never know if you’re safe when I’m gone. Realistically I know you are, but..”The hero trailed off, ending with a vague, “Yeah.”

Ravio let out a breath. “Yeah.”He repeated with a small laugh.

Another silence followed, but this one felt…lighter than the one before. No baited breath, waiting for one of them to admit to anything.

“Wouldn’t want Hyrule’s best merchant to die off, would we?”Legend grinned slightly, a lopsided little thing.

Ravio couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well lucky, I don’t want my favourite customer dying anytime soon!”

“Can we go back inside now? It’s freezing out here.”

“Well, Mr. Hero, maybe you would be warmer if you didn’t insist on wearing a dress in all weather!”Ravio tutted at him, but began to unwind his scarf from his neck.

“It’s not a dress! They’re tunics, not dresses. And they’re way more comfortable.”Legend complained, arms crossed.

“Whatever you say, honeybun.”He replied, simply looping his scarf around Legend’s neck a few times. “There we go~ You should be warmer now! I won’t charge you for this one.”

“You would charge me for it?”

“...nah, probably not.”He admitted with a sigh.

“Good. Guess that means I can take your scarf more often then, right?”

“You like it that much?”Ravio laughed, face tinting slightly red when Legend nodded in response. “Wow.”

“It smells like you.”

“Oh.”The merchant paused, not having expected that. “That’s nice of you to say, Mr. Hero.”

“Mhm.”Legend hummed out, leaning against the other. “...I’m sorry I got hurt.”

“No no no, don’t you dare apologise for getting hurt. You didn’t exactly do it yourself!”Ravio laughed. “...did you?”

“No, Rav, what the fuck?”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for asking!”Ravio cackled. “For all I know, you stabbed yourself so your lovely, caring boyfriend would nurse you back to health~”

“I’d rather die.”Legend huffed. “I wouldn’t trust you to look after me with a stab wound anyways.”

Ravio gasped, loud and dramatic. “That’s so mean! I would take the best care of you!”

“Yeah right.”

“I would and you know it. I’d take the best care of my prince,”He grinned, throwing the nickname in there just to see the hero go bright red, laughing when the other pushed him away, embarrassed.

“I-I told you not to call me that.”Legend complained, though the blush on his face and the way his ears pointed downwards betrayed any semblance of annoyance.

“Fine~”Ravio giggled, nuzzling Legend’s shoulder. “I won’t call you my prince. Even though it’s true.”

“Rav!”

Another laugh.

“We should probably go back inside though. You’re right, it’s a little cold.”

“A little? It’s fucking freezing.”

“You didn’t have to come after me.”Ravio offered a hand to the hero, helping him climb down the side of the roof.

“Yes I did,”Legend insisted. “I needed to make sure you were okay, rabbit.”

“Awh, that’s so sweet of you~”

“Go to hell.”The hero replied bluntly, sighing quietly when he was standing on the grass again, waiting for Ravio to hop down from the roof.

“I’ll probably meet you there, Mr. Hero.”

“Probably? Nah. You’ll absolutely meet me there. No doubt.”Legend snorted, heading inside the house when Ravio finally gathered the courage to jump down from the roof.

“Guess you’re never getting rid of me, then!”Ravio replied cheerfully, pushing his hood down once they got inside. He doesn’t understand it, but Legend has a rule about hats and hoods being worn inside. Says it’s bad luck or something.

The two made their way back to their bedroom, quiet so as to not disturb any of the heroes currently sleeping on the floor in the living room.

“You put your prosthetic on just to check on me?”Ravio realised belatedly, as they made it to the bedroom and Legend sat on their bed and began to remove the aforementioned metal leg.

“Couldn’t get onto the roof without it.”Was all he got.

Ravio wants to tease him for it, or remind him that he didn’t have to come and check on him, but any words he had died in his throat as he settled into bed, Legend curling up into his side. Legend was worried about him.

It’s…not too surprising—Legend’s always cared in his own way—but it still catches the merchant off guard.

“Rulie healed the wound after it happened,”The hero mumbled. “Made sure there wasn’t gonna be any lasting damage outside of a scar.”

“That’s good,”Ravio hummed, running his hands through the other’s hair. It’s suspiciously pinker than usual, but he won’t ask about it. Not right now, anyways. Maybe later. “Sucks that there’s gonna be a scar, though.”

“Eh,”The other shrugged, “It’s just another one to the collection.”

“Honeybee…”

“I know,”He sighed. “Sorry. It’s just easier to think of them as a collection instead of injuries.”

“It’s okay.”Ravio assured him, pressing a soft kiss to Legend’s forehead. “...you’re gonna take the scarf off to sleep, right?”

“Um…I wasn’t planning to, no, but if you’re worried about me choking or something I can take it off.”He laughed quietly. “Do you want me to remove it?”

“If..you don’t mind. I just worry that it’ll get tangled.”

“Fair enough,”The hero shrugged, unwinding the scarf and placing it on the table beside the bed. “I’m really fucking tired, so I’m definitely going to fall asleep soon, but if you need to leave again, wake me up. Okay?”

“Okay, good night bunny.”

“Night, rabbit.”Legend pressed a kiss to Ravio’s cheek before settling, burying his face into Ravio’s neck.

He was asleep within minutes, which isn’t really anything new. It warms Ravio’s heart a little, knowing that Legend feels safe with him. The merchant continued to play with the hero’s hair, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the other’s breathing. He knows he can’t protect Legend when he’s out adventuring, when he’s doing his job, but… At least he can protect him here, and at least he knows Legend is safe here. That’s all he can really ask for. Ravio knows he can’t make him feel safe all the time, but he’s glad he can at least make him feel safe in his own home. Which is a bit of an odd sentence, but he knows that Legend struggled with that a little bit before he came along. He sighed, closing his eyes. He shouldn’t still be awake, Legend will worry if he has bags under his eyes again. At least he fell asleep easily tonight, which probably had something to do with having the hero asleep in his arms, safe and sound.

[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 10

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 10

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Implied Smut. Some Angst. Fluff.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the FINAL chapter! :) But don’t worry. I have two extra chapters - epilogues as such xoxo

——

Dick immediately knew something was wrong the second he stepped into the penthouse apartment. The place stank strongly of whiskey and smoke. It wasn’t often Jason invited him round for poker, just the two of them but Dick didn’t want to refuse his brother. Jason had sounded hollow over the call making him worry. Dick looked across at his brother and frowned, it was clear Jason hadn’t shaved in over a week. The dark fuzz clearly irritated him as he clawed at it during their third game.

“You know”, Dick drawled, unable to hold back any longer, “The last time I checked you weren't being investigated by the GCPD”.

“Shut up and deal”, Jason snapped, downing the last of his drink. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. Since the argument he hadn’t slept well. The look on your face haunting him when he told you it didn’t mean anything.

Dick sighed and slid several cards across the table, “So I noticed you didn't bring Y/N to the gala that Bruce hosted last week”.

Jason cast his eyes up quickly, squinting at Dick, “Just say what you're going to say, Grayson. Don't bother with the preamble”.

“Did Y/N finally realise she's too good for you?”.

“Not exactly”, Jason sighed, carding his fingers through his messy hair.

“Why do I feel like what your about to say next is going to be really fucking stupid?”, Dick groaned and slapped his cards face down onto the table, huffing out a puff of air irritably. 

“I did the right thing”, Jason muttered, not quite believing himself. If it was the right thing, why did he feel so lousy? Why did he want to call you every minute of the day and beg for your forgiveness?

Dick rolled his eyes, “You and the rest of us have a very different view on things”.

“We ended things - ok?! - Jesus leave it alone”, Jason spat poisonously, the words replaying in his mind. The unshed tears in the corners of your eyes you wouldn’t let fall in front of him. Not wanting to give him that victory. 

“Why the fuck would you do that? Seriously?”, Dick slammed his palm down on the table harder than he intended, startling Jason for a second.

Jason scoffed, “Not all of us can afford to be sentimental, Grayson”.

“No one is going to think less of you if you just admit you’re scared”, Dick looked at his brother sympathetically. Jason hadn’t always been great with his emotions, often letting them get the better of him.

“I am NOT scared!!”, Jason growled and swept everything off the table in a fit of rage, chest heavy with deep breaths.

Dick looked up at him unphased, having seen these kinds of outbursts before, “Really?”, he laughed softly and leaned down to pick up half of the shattered glass from the floor, “You know what, she is too good for you, maybe I was wrong”.

Jason felt the flare of anger explode through him, the truth scorching his insides, “Stay out of it Grayson”.

Not allowing his volatile temper to bother him, Dick shrugged, “I’m your brother Jason and I’m not going to sugar coat anything for you...the truth hurts…Alfred would tell you the same thing”.

The words stung Jason harder than Dick probably intended. Especially mentioning Alfred. God, Alfred, he’d absolutely adored you. Jason cracked and buried his face in his hands realising he missed you. He missed every little thing about you. And now, now he didn’t have you. Fuck it hurt.

“You've got more money than sense”, Dick patted Jason on the back.

“I’m not really used to this sort of thing”.

Dick had to laugh at that, “I can tell”.

Jason glared embarrassed as Dick tried to hold back the laughter, “I don’t really know what to do…I kind of, well, I fucked it all up”.

“Promise me after this you’ll stop making me the sensible one…I don’t like it, it gives Bruce ideas”, Dick sighed before throwing the broken glass into the nearby bin, “Look…just talk to her, she’s a smart woman, she’s probably hoping you’ll call her”.

“You make it sound so easy!”.

“Look, take it from someone who’s lost some really special people…talk to her, don’t waste anymore of your time, or you’ll regret everything you never said”, Dick’s own face twisted with an unspoken sadness. Jason nodded slowly and dug his hands into his trouser pockets.

Dick sighed, rolling a poker chip between his fingers, “If you leave it any longer she’ll be gone for good. She’ll either find another firm to work for or she’ll leave the city. Plenty of companies would double her wage to have her”, he glanced over at his brother and rolled his shoulders, “Hell Jason, plenty of guys would jump to date her, she’s the full package, even I’m considering asking her on a date”.

“Don’t you dare”, Jason growled before looking sullen again, “And I know…Don’t you think I already fucking know all of this? I’ve been expecting her notice every damn day…”.

He didn’t want to admit that as each day passed and he didn’t receive it, he was thankful.

“So why are you still sitting here like a moron? You know what you have to do…do it, before I go do it for you”.

——

Four weeks had passed since that morning in his apartment. Four long weeks. You’d thrown yourself into your work completely, immersing yourself with more high pressured projects. It kept your mind busy. Whenever your thoughts strayed, they would linger on him. You couldn’t keep torturing yourself by thinking about him. The pain was still raw. Making your way up the steps in your apartment complex, the wine bottles clinked against each other. You must have sounded, and looked, like an alcoholic but your favourite wine had a ‘buy one get one free offer’ and you couldn’t turn that down.

Making your way up the last flight, you pushed through your front door, dropping your bag next to it with a heavy sigh. You could finally drop the fake smile. It was just you. You kicked your heels off and padded through into the kitchen, both bottles of wine in hand. You’d just placed them onto the counter when you heard the raspy cough behind you.

You screamed, spinning round with the corkscrew in your hands. It was the only weapon you had to hand and it seemed like a damn good option against your reasonably polite house intruder who had the decency to alert you to his presence before he tried to kidnap you, or worse.

“It’s just me!”. 

That voice. That fucking, deep drawl. The one you’d pictured strangling numerous times during the long tedious business meetings.

“Jason?!”.

“Hi”.

Was that all he had to say?! You fumed silently, glaring at him.

“I nearly fucking stabbed you!!”, you shouted, dropping the corkscrew onto the counter, “Are you fucking mad?!”.

He shifted uncomfortably in the kitchen doorway before leaning against it, hands burying themselves deep into the front pockets of his sweatpants. He cast his eyes down to your flooring, mumbling something to himself.

“What are you doing here?”, you rested your hand on the granite top, “Actually, more interestingly, how the hell did you get in here?”.

“I still have your spare key…and the doorman remembered me”.

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say to the man who you’d given so much of yourself to, only to have it returned in tiny fragments.

Jason pushed himself off the frame, edging towards you, “I-errr, I know I should have done this sooner”.

Scowling, you turned away from him and grabbed one of the bottles of wine, carrying it across to the cupboard above the sink.

He sighed and followed after you, your silence deafening him, “Can we at least talk Y/N? Please? I know this is a bit late”.

You grabbed an empty glass from the cupboard, “We can...I just don't think I'll like being sober while we do it”.

“What makes you think that?”.

“It’s you!”, you growled irritated, “You just show up at my apartment without a word of warning and expect a fucking welcome party! Not to mention the fact you’re trespassing! I could have you arrested!”.

You popped the cork from the bottle, throwing it into the bin violently before pouring yourself a liberal glass. After the day you’d had and now he was here, you fucking needed it.

“There's also the fact that this has been stewing for over a month Jason...Do you want me to keep going?”.

“Princess-”.

Jason rested his hand on your lower back, the heat of it made you want to sink straight into him but memories flashed from the morning of your argument. You flinched away from him, snapping angrily, “Don't princess me, asshole!”.

He sighed deeply, trying to step back towards you, “I didn’t come here to argue with you, I came to talk to you”.

“Hence why I need the alcohol”, you brushed past him again and grabbed a second glass from the cupboard, “Go on”.

You poured a second helping of wine and passed it to him, “You'll probably need this too”.

Jason took a large gulp before leaning against your kitchen side, his eyes drinking you in, “I’m not good at this kind of shit you know”.

Grabbing the second bottle of wine, you gave him a small smile, “Alcohol makes everything easier, plus, I have two bottles of this to get through”.

He scoffed, “You sound like an alcoholic”.

“One therapy problem at a time”.

The laugh that left his mouth made you chuckle too. His lips quirked. He’d missed your wit.

“I've been thinking-”.

“You and thinking…together? Wow. You must have had a lonely four weeks”.

Jason grunted, “Are you going to let me finish or keep being snarky?”.

You smiled slyly over the rim of your wine glass, “You've never complained before, but go on”.

He ignored your comment, “As I said, I've been thinking about us and-”, he shook his head slightly and took a large swig of his wine, “Fuck me”, he grunted, “I have no idea how people can talk about this stuff”.

“Over email I'm told”.

Jason grinned slightly, “Yeah, I probably should have done that”.

“I would have deleted it”, you smiled innocently, taking another large sip of your wine. You started to feel the little buzz warming your insides.

“Fair point”, he conceded before taking one of your hands in his, squeezing gently, “What I'm saying is, if you let me, I-I want to try again”.

The world stopped spinning. Your breath caught in your throat whilst you processed his words.

“In what way?”, your voice was barely above a whisper, worried this was just a dream. You’d wake up from your wine induced sleep, alone again.

Jason brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it delicately, whispering back, “I mean, just me and you…together. A real team…official”.

You stared at him, a little dumbfounded. You hadn’t expected that. No matter how much you’d wanted to hear it, you didn’t imagine Jason would ever say it. Even in his own, business like fashion.

“Princess?”, his voice seemed unsure when you hadn’t said a thing.

“Sorry”, you murmured, “I just didn’t expect you to say that…”, his face twisted with panic and you squeezed his hand reassuringly, “It’s a pleasant surprise…even if you did make it sound like a business transaction”, you added teasingly with the hint of a smile. He returned it, clasping your hand.

“I need you to be patient with me”, Jason took another mouthful of the wine, “This is…it’s new territory for me Y/N, I need you to understand that”.

“How do I know you won't go back on your word?”, your eyes glossed with a vulnerability Jason had never seen before. He was used to you being so full of fire and fight. There was a sharp sensation spreading across his chest. Realisation hitting him like a gale force storm. He’d really hurt you.

“I’ve- Y/N, I’ve never felt like this about anyone else”.

You set your glass down. The shock was hard to wipe from your face. Jason had finally admitted it. He stared at you, dark eyes brimming. You reached up, your palms resting on his cheeks. The stubble was rough under your skin as your thumb stroked over his cheek.

“Jay…”.

You felt his hand slip behind your neck, closing the distance between you both to brush his lips over yours. You hummed, deepening the kiss, enjoying the way your bodies fit together as he pressed you into the kitchen counter. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting your hands wrap around the back of his neck.

He pulled back from the kiss reluctantly, dotting more kisses over your cheeks, working down to your neck, “Princess…”.

The shivers spread across your skin, the prickle of his stubble felt perfectly familiar. You purred his name, tilting your head backwards before pushing on his chest, “I'll give you a chance..one chance, but if you cut me off or try to push me away like that again, I will burn your club to the ground”.

Jason barked out a laugh, the vibration rumbling deep from his chest, “Drop me off the top of The Iceberg if it makes you happy”. He continued his kisses along your shoulder, nipping gently. Reaching the strap of your top he slipped it down slowly, stroking the skin as it was revealed to him.

“Too messy”, you breathed.

His fingers traced up the front of your blouse, unbuttoning each one agonisingly slow. On instinct you shuddered when his fingers came into contact with your skin. You sighed softly, having missed the way he touched you.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily Mr Todd”.

“Oh I know I’m not”, he kissed you again, smirking subtly, “I know I have a lot of making up to do…if you’ll let me”.

——

You waved at Bernice, a bright smile on your face as you pushed open Jason’s office door. She returned the smile with her own, waving briefly before digging back into the mountain of paperwork beside her. After the first month of your weekly visits and frequent lunch dates, she no longer questioned why it was you were visiting Mr Todd so often.

Jason looked up from his computer and grinned seeing you. He leaned back in his chair, edging away from his desk slightly, “You’re a little earlier than usual. Have you come to give me a birthday treat?”.

You rolled your eyes at him, working your way around his desk before dropping into his lap slowly, “How does it feel to be another day closer to death?”. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smirking when he huffed.

“You’re so optimistic”, he rolled his eyes sarcastically before nudging his cheek against yours, a silent gesture of intimacy, “Why don’t you try flattering me instead princess?”.

“Your ego is big enough”.

Jason turned his face and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear, “That’s not the only thing big enough”, he growled playfully before nipping earlobe.

“You are terrible”, you laughed softly but your cheeks felt hot at the thought of him. He shuffled slightly, adjusting you to sit more comfortably.

“Are you excited for your birthday dinner party tonight? Alfred’s coming too”.

“I am, thank you for arranging it”, his arms wrapped around your middle pulling you into his chest, your head resting against his shoulder.

You nestled closer, playing with his tie, “Are you looking forward to all the presents you're gonna get?”.

“Like what?”.

Your lips curved upwards innocently and you tugged the fabric gently between your fingers, “Oh you know, golf clubs, Viagra, whiskey, the works”.

Jason slipped his hands down to your thighs and stroked up your stocking clad leg, “As if I need Viagra when I’ve got you”.

You went to say something but Jason cut over you, his hands peeling away from the lace trimming on your hold ups. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk pulling out a slim black box with a crimson bow, “I have a gift for you actually”.

“A present?”, you took the box from him and frowned softly, “But it’s your birthday. I’m supposed to give you something”.

“I think you’ll like this though, open it”, Jason nudged the box in your hands and watched you intently. You noticed the corner of his eye twitching. Why was he so nervous?

“Are you sure?”.

“I’m 90% sure you’ll like it…”, he gave you a small smile trying to mask the panic building behind his eyes, “Maybe 80%…”.

A key to his apartment sat in that box. Something he’d never shared with anyone else in his life. It’d been an obvious choice for him, you barely left his home since you’d made things official. Half your stuff was littered around his place and, well, he liked it. He didn’t want it any other way.

Tugging the red ribbon, you looked into his eyes, “As long as it isn't a cheap purse, we're good”.

Jason scoffed, clearly unamused, “What have I ever bought you that’s cheap?”.

You grinned, “True…Though you tear my underwear off like it's cheap”.

He smirked cheekily before nodding back down to the box, “Just open the present princess”.

You opened the box slowly, a little unnerved with Jason’s own jittery behaviour. When you slipped the lid off, a soft gasp left your lips. There, sat neatly in black tissue paper was a key card to his apartment with your own personalised silver key-ring attached to it; the first letter of your name. Your breath hitched and you felt a burst of warmth rushing through you. It was obvious what this was. It wasn’t just a key to his home. It was an unspoken phrase.

Jason watched as you opened it, swallowing thickly at your silence, “Err, surprise?”. The worry started to curdle deep in his stomach. Maybe he’d read this all wrong. Maybe this was a step too far. The spiralling thoughts stopped when you spoke again, voice laced with joy.

“Are you certain this is what you want?”.

The question was serious but the bright smile on your face told Jason all he needed to know.

His hands stroked along your waist softly, “Of course, you practically live there anyways, you might as well have a key”.

Your fingers traced over the silver initial attached to the key card, a diamond dangled down behind it, “And whose fault is that?”.

“What can I say? I’ve got used to having you in my bed permanently…as well as waking up to you cooking for me”, he smirked, eyes sparkling with implicit love.

“Chauvinistic pig”, you laughed and jabbed his chest.

Jason swiped your hand quickly, pressing a kiss to the back of it smoothly, “Ah, ah, ah! You can’t talk to the birthday boy like that”.

You pressed your lips to his lightly, clutching the key-card tightly in your other hand. When you pulled back, you gave him a genuine smile, “Thank you”.

“Welcome home”, he murmured.

———

Standing in the en-suite bathroom, you swiped the deep rouge lipstick over your lips, puckering them to ensure even coverage. Your black dress hung loose on your frame, still waiting to be zipped at the back. Leaning forward, you eyed your make up closely, checking there weren't any smudges in sight.

Jason let his eyes rake over your body for a long second, before clearing his throat. The cough behind you made your eyes dart in the mirror, catching his gaze.

“You nearly done?”, he leisurely rested against the door frame, his tie hanging loose around his neck. You let your own gaze run over him in his dark grey suit. It did little to hide his large frame and muscles.

“Nearly, can you zip me up please?”, you shimmied your ass at him.

“Keep that up and we won’t get out the door”, he smirked, slapping your ass playfully before zipping your dress up slowly, ensuring his fingers grazed your bare skin.

You felt the dress become tight around your body and you turned around when he finished, slinking your arms around his neck, “Thanks”.

“You look beautiful”, he complimented, hands settling on your lower back, teasing the curve of your ass.

You flushed at his words. He always managed to catch you off guard. You’d been expecting something sexual, maybe a little explicit. But he swayed in with an honest compliment. Your hands found his tie and you tutted under your breath, fixing it up before tightening it.

“My mother always says loose ties signal when men are going to start misbehaving”.

“She isn’t wrong”, he chuckled huskily and let his hands travel south, groping you.

“Well there will be a bunch of other men to keep an eye on tonight, not including you”, you kissed the corner of his mouth and smiled, “I’m going to be exhausted keeping you all in check”.

Jason grinned, “When the others start loosening their ties, that's your cue to leave with the other women”.

“What if you start loosening your tie?”.

He growled quietly, gripping onto your waist, “Then it's our cue”.

You raised your eyebrow, “Our cue?”, you smirked stroking your hands over his chest, the heat pouring from him made you shiver.

He groaned under his breath, enjoying the way your hands travelled his body. He couldn’t get enough of you. The familiar coil started to tighten in his stomach.

Leaning up, you breathed quietly into his ear, purring softly, “And…What if I loosen your tie for you…Sir?”.

The sparks fired up his spine and he edged you back against the bathroom sink, lifting you up easily, “Then princess, you're just asking for it”.

Your fingers found their familiar place, wound through his dark locks sending waves of bliss through him. His kisses worked down your neck, stubble grazing over your weak spot. You tipped your head back against the mirror, whispering airily, “Jason…we’re going to be late…you know Bruce will only complain”. 

“Fuck it”, he grunted, “It’s my birthday”.

——

[aegyo-ahegao]

Kpop artists are real people! Please respect them! All of this is strictly fantasy and for horny fun! None of the things I say in this account are “speculation” or “what these artists are really like” type things. Again, purely fantasy through the lense of a hyperfixation

MINORS DNI!

word count: 5140

tags: gyuvin x matthew, light dom/sub stuff, caught masturbating, oppa kink, inspired by recent(ish) events, gyuvin's shy at first, matthew eats it up, as in all fics gyuvin is hung 😔✊, handjob that turns into blowjob, very light cumplay, theyre so whipped and they don't even know, teaching how to give a bj by example, whos top? whos dom? who's sub? they dont even know, switch 4 switch ig

Found the brain power to write this >:) i accidentally made this very sappy and cute but it's all good bc you get two bjs for the price of one! also it is so much longer than i expected enjoy

‘For today, I’m your oppa’

The moment replayed in Matthew's mind more often than he’d like to admit. His little oppa bit was fun, he got to flirt with the camera and show off something besides being cute, but this was probably too far. He might’ve not known the deepest interweavings of Korean but he was damn good at conversation, and conversation between him and hyungs was even easier. Being referred to as a dongsaeng was pretty natural for him. But Kim Gyuvin. Strange, weird, tall, handsome Kim Gyuvin. He made being a hyung harder than it already was. He was always goofing off, in an endearing, Saint Bernard who doesn’t know how big he is kind of way, but goofing off nonetheless.

It had been one of these many times that Gyuvin had said the something that kept ringing in Matthew's head.

“I’m too tired today. I’m not oppa today.” Matthew had whined as Gyuvin shook him excitedly. “Someone take oppa responsibility for me.”

“I can.” Gyuvin sat up straight with a dumb smile. “I’ll be your oppa.”

Matthew tried to convince himself he mistranslated as his ears got steadily pinker. “What?”

“No take-backs! You said you didn’t want to be oppa so now it’s my turn.” Gyuvin smirked mischievously.

“I didn’t mean my oppa.” He tried to sigh but it came out like more of a squeak.

“Too late! For today, I’m your oppa.”

-

That’s what got Matthew in this situation. Laying on his bed, half mast, all because of some stupid joke. He didn’t even know it was possible for honorifics to affect him like this, especially ones meant for women. He guessed it was a sign he was getting more comfortable with Korean but he almost wished he wasn’t. ‘Gyuvin-oppa’ It rang through his head again and he winced, trying to not imagine anything.

It was a rare free Saturday so most of the members were out, getting food or shopping. Really, it was only Matthew and Taerae home, and he knew for a fact the Taerae had passed out on the couch after lunch. It had been a while, with promotions and filming, he hadn’t got a decent, non-shower jerk off in since right after Boys Planet. It really couldn’t hurt.

He scooted up enough to throw his blanket over his lap, even if someone did walk in it’d be way easier to hide this way. He shimmied out of his sweatpants, sighing as the soft fabric laid over his dick. He could already tell he wasn’t going to last long, dick twitching at the slightest touch. “Fuck.” He breathed. He wrapped his hand around his half stiff cock, lightly tracing his thumb over his slit.

‘Let oppa take care of you.’

Matthew flinched as the image of Gyuvin leaning over him appeared in his mind. He groaned out of embarrassment. He started pumping his hand, nervously letting the fantasy continue on. Imaginary Gyuvin licked his lips, staring down Matthew like he was about to eat him alive. He brought a finger to Matthew’s chin, raising it to make eye contact. Matthew unconsciously sped up his strokes.

‘Say it.’

He knew exactly what imaginary Gyuvin wanted, of course, and he couldn't help himself. He placed a hand over his mouth, intent to muffle himself so only he and his little fantasy had to know.

“Gyuvin-oppa.” saying it out loud shot a shiver straight to his dick. God, why was that doing so much to him? He whined into his hand, eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure. "Oppa, please." he muttered.

"Good boy." Imaginary Gyuvin purred. He kissed him roughly, tongues dancing, before trailing kisses down his jaw, then his throat.

"Gyuvin-oppa, please." he breathed.

He heard a whimper, but this time it wasn't his own. His hand flew away from himself, eyes squeezing tightly closed. Oh, god. This was humiliating. "Jesus fucking Christ." he swore to himself in English. "Please leave." He didn't dare look at who it was, he didn't want to go through the next few weeks avoiding eye contact with someone.

"...But." The voice squeaked, already sounding way too familiar. "You called me."

"I don't want to talk about it Gyuvin." Matthew rolled over to face the wall, neck burning from embarrassment. Of course, of all eight people that could've caught him, it had to be the one he was moaning the name of. "Leave.'' He hoped he sounded intimidating and not like he was about to cry.

There was a long pause, one Matthew tried to convince himself meant Gyuvin left and he just didn't hear. Unfortunately, his ears were hyper aware of every tiny sound at the moment. He could still hear Gyuvin breathing. He tried desperately not to break into tears. "I don't wanna." Gyuvin finally said, more of a whisper than anything.

Matthew's confusion overtook his embarrassment for a moment and he turned his head to look at Gyuvin. Oh. He was standing, hands balled into tight fists at his sides, still holding his shopping bags. His thighs were clenched together. The worst part was he wasn't even looking up, his head hung low, hiding his face. "What?"

"I don't wanna leave, Hyung." Gyuvin's voice cracked. Somehow, his head sunk even lower in his chest. Matthew couldn't bring himself to do anything but stare. "Please..."

Matthew felt a fresh plume of warmth reach his face. This couldn't be real. He dug into his thigh with his nails, willing himself to snap out of it. This fantasy had really gone too far. But Gyuvin remained. Matthew's heart was racing, he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. He had to be sure, if this was going any farther. "Gyuvin, you know what I was doing, right?"

He nodded.

"What was I doing then?" Matthew said carefully, trying to not spook him off.

"Hyung, don't make me say it..." Gyuvin covered his face with his hands. Despite his earlier fantasies, Matthew couldn't help but find him adorable. The urge to get more reactions out of Gyuvin was eating at him.

"How am I supposed to know you're serious if you don't tell me?" Matthew's nerves were slowly morphing into excited butterflies.

"Hyung-"

"Just Matthew's fine." He felt himself start to smile. "And look at me, please."

Gyuvin took a deep breath. He lowered his hands away from his face slowly, revealing his wonderfully crimson complexion. "Matthew." He dug his nails into his palms, willing himself to look up. "Were you... touching... yourself..." He let out a little whine before taking another breath. "Thinking about... me?"

Matthew ate up every second Gyuvin left his face uncovered. He knew he probably had a stupid, half horny-brained grin plastered across his face but he couldn't stop.

"Hyu-... Matthew." Gyuvin complained, turning his body away but keeping his face in view.

"Yeah," He breathed, barely audible. "Yeah, I was." He was kind of dazed and awestruck. Kim Gyuvin being anything other than overly excited or passed out was always a pleasant change, but this was something else entirely.

"O-okay." Gyuvin cleared his throat, clearly trying to decide what to do next. "Did you... like it?"

Matthew couldn't help but to break into a little fit of giggles.

"Matthew!" He whined, stomping in place pathetically.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Matthew tried to catch his breath in between spurts of snickering. "I'm not making fun of you, I promise."

"You sure sounded like you were." Gyuvin pouted and crossed his arms. "Look, I can leave and pretend this didn't happen, but..." His eyes drifted to the floor.

"But?"

Gyuvin shuffled his feet around and cleared his throat. His mind seemed to be working overtime. He sighed after a moment and turned on his heel. Matthew could've sworn he was about to storm off. His chest twinged at bit at the thought. But Gyuvin didn't leave. Instead he set his bags down beside Matthew's dresser and closed the door, paused, then locked it.

"But I want to hear you say that again." His expression had turned stern.

Matthew felt his face heat again. Right, he was supposed to be the embarrassed one here. He'd been walked in on and he'd completely forgotten as soon as Gyuvin acted cute. He really was done for.

"Matthew."

He yelped then cringed at the noise. "Yeah?" He squeaked.

Gyuvin took a careful step forward. "Can I- please- can I touch you?" His face was no less red than before, but it seemed he'd found some confidence.

Matthew couldn't stop the nod that came out of him. "Please." it sounded desperate, but he kinda was.

Gyuvin approached slowly, taking off his jacket on his way. He kneeled in front of Matthew's bed, eyes trained on Matthew's. "Can I...?" He gestured to the blanket that was still draped over Matthew's lap.

Matthew bit his lip and nodded. God, what was he getting himself into?

Gyuvin was so gentle, sliding the blanket off slowly and deliberately. Unveiling Matthew like he was something precious. He exhaled deeply once he was in full view. "Wow." He breathed, his hands floating absently around. "Okay, hhhh, okay, wow."

Matthew chuckled under his breath. "Am I that impressive?"

"Yeah..." Gyuvin whispered, half there. "You're really pretty, Hyung."

Matthew felt his dick twitch at the compliment and groaned. "Sorry, I-"

"Don't be." Gyuvin interrupted. "It's cute." He swallowed and took his eyes off of Matthew's crotch, seemingly with great effort. "I'm gonna start now, okay?"

"O-okay." Matthew winced at himself.

Gyuvin gently wrapped his hand around the base of Matthew's cock, squeezing softly. "Warm..." he mumbled absent-mindedly. He inched his hand upward, more feeling him up than trying to get him off. He placed his hand on Matthew's inner thigh and scooched forward, eyes twinkling with interest. He thumbed at the bit of skin connecting Matthew's foreskin to the head of his cock, making him gasp. Ever so slowly, Gyuvin started moving his hand, working his way up and down Matthew's shaft, staring intently at every movement.

Matthew covered his mouth with his hand. Not only was Taerae asleep not even 30 feet away, but it just felt way too embarrassing to let Gyuvin hear anything. Even if Gyuvin was the one making him make the embarrassing noises. Jesus, this was really happening. Matthew stole a look downwards. Gyuvin, with his hand on Matthew's dick. He couldn't comprehend that, even just as a sentence. His brain flashed that same image of Gyuvin baring over top of him from before. "Gyu-...Gyuvin?" He tried not to pant.

"Yes, Matthew?" Gyuvin had no intention of stopping his movement now that he'd started, Matthew's voice seemingly only spurring him on.

"What you said before..." Matthew winced and covered his mouth again, whimpering into it. "Did- ah- did you mean it? Do you want- ah- me to call you-" He was cut off by Gyuvin's increasing pressure on his dick, strokes speeding up the more he talked. "Ngh!" A strangled moan fought its way out, somehow making Matthew blush even deeper.

"Call me what?" Gyuvin's voice came out darker than before. He might be even worse off than Matthew.

"Oh, come on! You know- ah- what I'm talking about." Matthew whined.

"Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it." Gyuvin finally took his eyes back off of Matthew's dick. "Please."

And who could deny a face like that? Red down to his collarbone, pupils blown, lips parted just enough that Matthew could see his tongue. "Gyuvin... Gyuvin-oppa." The embarrassment curled its way up through Matthew's stomach.

"Fuck..." Gyuvin's head dropped to his chest, strokes going lopsided. "Matthew, I really want you in my mouth right now, but I've- I haven't-not with a guy anyway-" he blathered.

God, he was so cute. "You can- if you want. I wouldn't mind. I can teach you." Matthew reached down and stroked the top of his head. "I mean as long as you don't bite it off, I think you're fine." He chuckled.

Gyuvin whined incoherently. "Matthew, no fair." He flopped forward, squishing his cheek into Matthew's bare thigh.

"Sorry, sorry." Matthew smiled fondly at the top of Gyuvin's head. He wasn't sure if they'd ever had this much contact before, but maybe that was for a reason. "Gyuvinnie-"

His head shot up and he gave Matthew what was probably supposed to be a glare, but his fucked out expression overrid it.

"Gyuvinnie...Oppa." Matthew swallowed. He hated that it'd already gotten easier to say. "Let me teach you, huh?" He braved a hand on Gyuvin's cheek, which he immediately nuzzled into. Cute. He scooched forwards on his knees, crotch absently bumping into Matthew's shin. "Jesus." Matthew wasn't sure if Gyuvin's dick hit him or straight bone. "You're really hard."

Gyuvinnie nodded lazily. "You're really hot."

"Do you... I mean, I could teach you... by example, if you want?" Matthew felt like he should probably be embarrassed, especially given how embarrassed he was at just calling Gyuvin a name, but he wasn't. He was kinda curious, if anything.

Gyuvin's eyes shot open- as open as he could make them, given his state. "Oh! Um, uh- o-okay. If you want."

"Don't worry, I have experience." Matthew smiled smugly. "Come up here." He patted the bed then slid off, pulling up his sweatpants as he went. Gyuvin crawled up onto the bed, knees clamped shut. "Relax, I got this. Tell me if you need a break." He paused. "Gyuvin-oppa." The expression on Gyuvin's face made Matthew smile like a cat. He leaned forward and started busying himself with Gyuvin's fly. It was no easy task given the massive tent blocking his view. Even through his pants, Matthew was already dreading how big Gyuvin was going to be. His fly came undone and Gyuvin lifted his hips to making tugging his pants down easier. He was chewing on his sleeve. Cute. Matthew braced himself then tugged down the waistband of his boxer-briefs. Gyuvin's cock sprang free with a bounce. "Jesus christ." He stared open mouthed at it.

"Is something wrong?" Gyuvin pouted down at him.

"No, it's just..." Matthew tried to measure it with his hand, but it was too small. "You're kinda massive." He swallowed.

Gyuvin giggled above him. "Oh, come on, it's not that big."

"No, I like, seriously feel bad for any women you've been with." He pulled Gyuvin's cock forward so it stood straight, making him whine. "Jesus."

"Hng- Hyung if you're gonna touch it, can you give me some warning first?" He panted.

"Oh, sorry Gyuvinnie." He met Gyuvin's eyes. The face he was making made Matthew go a little crazy. One eye closed, the other half lidded, mouth agape with a silver string of spit connecting his top and bottom lip. His brain backfired. "Here's your warning." He smiled wryly then took Gyuvin's head into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, occasionally flattened it to drag it along the slit.

"Fuck! Hyung-" Gyuvin twitched forward. "That wasn't- ngh- much of a warning!"

Matthew hummed around him in response, eliciting a wonderfully strained noise from Gyuvin. Something childish and competitive was burning in him, like he had to prove himself. He bobbed his head down a few centimeters, working the rest of Gyuvin's length with his hand. He took a deep breath before taking him in until he reached his fist, the head knocking into the back of his throat.

"Hyung- fuck- I'm really sensitive- it's been a while-" Gyuvin babbled. His hands came to rest on the back of Matthew's head, tangling into his hair gently. "Careful please."

Matthew pulled off with a pop. "Of course, Oppa." He smiled at the desperate noise that made its way out of Gyuvin, then plunged his way all the way back down. He bobbed ever so slowly, willing his throat to take just a little bit more. Fuck, Gyuvin was big. He tried to not imagine what it would be like inside him, how deep it would reach. He felt his throat start to spasm and backed off. If he couldn't take it all in his mouth he'd just have to treat the part he could fit extra special. He pressed his tongue firmly against the side of Gyuvin's shaft and moved it side to side as he bobbed. Spit was dribbling from the corners of his mouth at this point but he didn't really mind, it was just extra lubricant for his hand to pump the bottom half of Gyuvin's dick with. The soft gasps and moans above him were slowly turning into muffled, stuttering grunts. He pulled off just enough to give Gyuvin's slit kitten licks. "Close already, Oppa?" Matthew looked up to make eye contact. Shit, that was a mistake. Gyuvin's eyes had a fire he couldn't quite place, but he could certainly guess. It made his stomach drop straight to his feet.

Gyuvin's fingers curled into his hair firmly. "Don't stop. Wanna cum in your mouth. Please." The words were slurred but the look on his face was as if this was a matter of life and death.

"Greedy." Matthew huffed, but sunk back down onto him nonetheless. It'd been a while since he last let someone cum in his mouth, but this was his Gyuvinnie. Even if he was sucking his dick at the moment, he still did have a soft spot for him. He wondered how Gyuvin would taste. He sped up his strokes in time with his head movements, spurred on by the light pressure Gyuvin was applying to the back of his head. He tongued lightly at the underside of Gyuvin's glands, making him groan.

"M'close..." His hands pulled at Matthew's head gently.

Matthew took that as a sign to go deeper. He bobbed down to brush his nose against his knuckles again, filling his mouth to the brim. He hollowed his cheeks and worked his head up and down. He felt Gyuvin start to shudder. He plunged down so Gyuvin was at his throat, then pushed himself a little farther. He suppressed a cough as Gyuvin moaned.

"Matthew!" He gasped as he spilled into Matthew's mouth and down his throat. His hands tugged at Matthew's blond hair as he rode out his high. Matthew felt strings of cum shoot down his throat and over his tongue. It tasted sweeter than normal, maybe it was because of all the snacks Gyuvin was always eating, or maybe Matthew's brain just ignored the bitterness more easily because of who's it was.

Matthew tapped Gyuvin's thigh as soon as he was sure he was finished.

"Oh, sorry!" Gyuvin let him go and hung his head back.

Matthew slid off of Gyuvin's dick slowly, enjoying the way he jolted from overstimulation. "Gyuvinnie, look." He tapped his leg again.

"Hmm?" Gyuvin's head fell forward again then froze.

Matthew stuck his tongue out with an 'ahh", cum dribbling down the entire surface. A bead fell onto his lap but he swiped it up with his finger and put it back in his mouth. He made sure Gyuvin was watching as he swallowed.

"Oh... my god?" Gyuvin sat shell shocked.

Matthew giggled at him. "Figured you'd like that." He stood, legs wobbly. "Scooch." He shooed Gyuvin to the side then sat next to him, resting his head on his shoulder after a moment. "Was it a good lesson, Gyuvinnie-oppa?" he snickered, pushing into Gyuvin.

"Mhmmm.' He stretched it into a hum. "Gimme a minute to recover, then it's my turn."

"Your turn?" Matthew scoffed. "Isn't it my turn if, y'know, I'm the one getting it?"

"Nope." Gyuvin rested his head on the wall and smiled, arms behind his head. "My turn because I'll have more fun."

Somehow, Matthew's face got even warmer. "I don't think that's possible. I mean, didn't you have fun when it was 'my' turn?" He made air quotes with his fingers.

"Of course I did!" Gyuvin pouted down at him. "But I wanna see your face when I suck you off." He grinned.

"I- uh- okay." Matthew stuttered, head filling with images he'd rather not share. "You've sure gotten brave in the last ten minutes."

"I don't think it's possible- even for me- to take 'hey can I suck your dick' as a bad sign." Gyuvin hummed contently then slid down on his back to the floor. He flipped over then sat. "So..." He looked up at Matthew with that same unplaceable fire from before. "Hey, can I suck your dick?"

Matthew wasn't sure whether to laugh or blush. He settled on nodding. "Y-yeah, you can..."

"Don't worry, I had a very good teacher." Gyuvin beamed up at him, splitting his face straight in two.

"Someone's excited." Matthew mumbled behind his hand.

Gyuvin nodded, leaning forward. "Someone's hot." He tugged down Matthew's sweatpants and boxers in one motion. His cock bounced into his stomach. "Hello again, pretty."

"Shut up." Matthew pushed at Gyuvin's shoulder.

"You'd rather I lie?" Gyuvin huffed in faux anger. "It's pretty... you're pretty." His voice got airy all of the sudden, like he was under some dick-spell. "Matthew-hyung? Can I ask a favour?"

Matthew swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah, Gyuvinnie?"

Gyuvin's eyes hazily made their way up Matthew's torso to meet his eyes. "Can you take off your shirt- please? I really wanna see you-... your muscles... they're so nice." Rather than being spoken, the words vaguely floated out of Gyuvin's mouth.

Matthew tried not to flush. If working out made Gyuvin act like this, he might have to never stop. Without a word, he tugged his t-shirt up over his head. Judging by the strangled gurgle that came from Gyuvin, it was a nice view. "There." Matthew turned his face away. "Anything else?"

"No..." Gyuvin's glassed over eyes traced him from head to... well, other head. "Perfect- you're perfect." He mumbled, leaning over to press a kiss to the inside of Matthew's thigh. "So pretty." Another on his hip.

Matthew's breath got caught up in his throat, coming out clicky. Gyuvin looked almost how he imagined, ready to eat him alive, but in his fantasies Gyuvin wasn't quite so... far gone. Honestly it was hotter this way, affecting him so deeply.

"Matthew..." Gyuvin breathed. Locking his eyes on Matthew's, he trailed his tongue down the crease where his hip met his thigh. It made Matthew shiver.

"I don't think I taught you that..." Matthew panted.

"No, but I wanted to do it." Gyuvin muttered, voice darkening. "Please, Seok Matthew, can I taste you?"

Matthew shuddered, eyes trying to escape from Gyuvin's gaze but suddenly unable to. He nodded slowly, out of focus. "Yes..."

Gyuvin inched his way closer. "Yes, who?" Matthew could feel his breath ghost across his cock.

"Oppa- Gyuvin-oppa, please." He blabbered, face hot with shame. He'd do anything to get Gyuvin's mouth on his dick at this point, calling him a name among the less detestable. Still, the small part of Matthew that was still lucid screamed at him to stop, or slow down at the very least. That part was stupid anyway.

"Good- perfect." Gyuvin mumbled, pressing his lips to the head of Matthew's cock, kissing it gently. Ever so softly, like he was a dog trying to sneak a treat while no one was looking, he placed his lips around Matthew, just below the head. His tongue felt around curiously, sliding around him and licking up the precum he'd leaked. "You taste nice..." Gyuvin muttered, mouth still full.

The vibrations made Matthew gasp before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Gyuvin let Matthew fall out of his mouth then leaned up close to his face. "None of that." he took his hands and pulled them away from his face. "Wanna hear you."

"But- Taerae's-"

"Sleeping and behind a door. Shush. Lemme hear." Gyuvin spoke as if he was saying the most logical thing in the world.

"O-okay." Matthew let his hands fall. He moved one to rest on Gyuvin's cheek. Gyuvin took him back into his mouth, maneuvering Matthew's cock into his cheek, poking him in the hand. He giggled at himself.

"Very funny, Gyuvinnie." He couldn't help the fond smile that made its way onto his face. Gyuvin only responded by taking Matthew in deeper, making him hiss. "Fuck, Oppa." Gyuvin flicked his tongue over the bit of skin connecting Matthew's foreskin to the head of his cock. Matthew tried to hold back his noises, but it was much harder without a hand to muffle himself. He could feel Gyuvin smile around him. Gyuvin bobbed lower, taking nearly all of Matthew into his mouth. Matthew stole a glance down only to be met with Gyuvin staring intently up at him. Fuck, is that how he looked a minute ago? Hair messy, cheeks full, lips pink, eyes hazy and glassed over, big and pleading. Gyuvin hollowed his cheeks and slid up and down Matthew's length, tongue pressed flat against it. Matthew chewed on his lower lip, worrying away at it in some hope to make the embarrassing whimpers he was making die down. He couldn't take much more, this was all so overwhelming. Plus he'd been played with off and on for well over 30 minutes, and he wasn't exactly the most desensitized person at the moment.

"Oppa, please- Oppa I'm close- please-" It came out a lot less coherent than he'd expected but his head was spinning too much for him to care. Gyuvin hummed around him on some kind of question, one Matthew hoped he was answering correctly. "Please- wanna cum on your face- please Oppa."

Gyuvin backed off, only holding the head in his mouth once again. He pumped his hand as fast as he could make it go, tongue working at Matthew's slit. "So pretty for me, baby." he mumbled into Matthew. "Cum for me."

"Fuck- fuck- ah-" Matthew whimpered. His hips jerked back as he crested his climax, pulling himself out of Gyuvin's mouth. The first spirt landed on his lips, the sight drove him crazy. Ears ringing, 'world flashes white' crazy. "Fuck, Gyuvin-" his voice got caught in his throat. He slowly came down from it, the whole room spinning. He flopped forward unconsciously into Gyuvin, head to shoulder. After a moment he felt hands weave into his hair, tracing gentle circles into his scalp.

As his ears stopped ringing a quiet stream of 'You did so good's and 'So pretty's became the only sound he could hear. Gyuvin was mumbling at him, forehead to forehead. He looked down to see Gyuvin's sleeve covered in him.

"You... called me baby." Was the first thing out of Matthew's mouth. His voice was creaky and strained.

Gyuvin pulled away so he could look at him. He held his shoulders, thumb gliding back and forth. "Yeah. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just really excited." He laughed lightly, with an undertone of hurt.

"No, I-" Matthew wasn't sure what to say, or where exactly he was even going. "I didn't mind- I don't."

"Here." Gyuvin gently pushed Matthew down to lie on the bed. "I'll be right back, promise." He said, peeling his sweater off then crumpling it into a ball.

Matthew didn't have to wait long before Gyuvin reappeared with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. "Do you need anything else?" He asked, a little panicked looking.

"No, that's more than enough." Matthew started to push himself up on his elbows but Gyuvin put a firm hand on his chest.

"Let me do this for you?" He sounded almost guilty. He took Matthew by the chin, wiping at the corners of his mouth and his bottom lip. The washcloth was warm, and smelled faintly of the hand soap Ricky had bought claiming 'No way I'm washing my hands with a bar'. "Sorry in advance." Gyuvin whispered before dabbing Matthew's softening dick clean, making him flinch at the overstimulation. "Sorry, sorry. All done."

Matthew stared at Gyuvin as he stood and placed the washcloth in the laundry basket by his dresser. He just stood there facing the wall, hands pulled to his chest. "Gyuvinnie-"

"It's okay we don't have to talk about it if you don't want." Gyuvin interrupted. "I'm glad I got to do that though."

"Would you listen for once? I swear, this brat." Matthew grumbled and swung his feet off the bed. He padded over to Gyuvin and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him into a back hug. Matthew felt a little short for this, seeing as his cheek came to rest in between Gyuvin's shoulder blades, but the gesture was the same. "I'm not mad. I had a good time." He took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words. "This might sound silly considering what we just finished doing but... I really like you Gyuvinnie-ah." He buried his face into Gyuvin's back. He felt a little bit too much like a middle school girl at the moment to properly face him.

"Oh, thank god." Gyuvin's shoulders sank. "I really don't know how long I could've dealt with casual sex. You're too pretty." He tried to turn but Matthew was latched securely to his back. "Hey, no fair Hyung!"

"No way I'm letting you see my face right now." Matthew's voice was muffled by the fabric of Gyuvin's t-shirt.

"But you let me see your face when you had my dick in your mouth?"

"That's different!" Matthew whined.

"Are you really more embarrassed now, Hyung?" Gyuvin chuckled and reached behind him to pat Matthew on the head. "It's too late, I already like your face no matter what it looks like."

"Hmm?" Matthew mumbled, tightening his grip around Gyuvin's waist.

"I really like you too Matthew-hyung. I like seeing you when you just woke up and your eyes are all puffy, I like seeing how happy you are when you dance, I like seeing you drool when you fall asleep in the car. You always look good." Gyuvin sighed, rocking the two of them gently from foot to foot.

"...If you keep talking like that, I'm gonna start thinking you have a crush on me." Matthew chuckled at himself, light and airy. He let go of Gyuvin's shirt slowly, like he was letting go of the dock as he stepped into a boat. He was just as rocky, anyway.

"Shut up." Gyuvin's smile was huge and sincere, creasing his eyes. "I'm, like, really happy right now."

"I can tell." Matthew snickered into the back of his hand. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up too. I'll help you wash up." He smiled fondly up at Gyuvin, taking his hand and pulling him to the door.

"Why does that make me nervous?" Gyuvin giggled.

"Because," Matthew looked over his shoulder at the Saint-Bernard who doesn't know how big he is that is Kim Gyuvin. "I'm pretty."

[largecucumber]

19 and 20

19. Adam Zamoyski’s “Chopin: Prince of the Romantics” And I have the signed copy! 😚 I absolutely adore Chopin because I play the piano. The book is so well written, sometimes I forget that I’m reading about an actual real person. But some descriptions, the very gritty and depressing parts of his life, are so raw and emotionalllll gurlll I cried! 😭😭

20. Uhmmmmmmm. I have sooo many. Prepare! 🤭💕

The one and only, Johann Sebastian Bach! He’s incredibly talented like omggggg how does he even come up with all these amazing pieces of music?!? 😨😳 His genius is unmatched. There will never be another composer like Bach! I have dozens of portraits and stickers of him and even a t-shirt. Omggggg it’s so embarrassing 🙈

Glenn Gould, the quirky autistic Canadian Bach wizard! He’s so handsome even well into his older years. And he’s soooo eccentric, like you should read about some of his quirks, it’s really out there💀👀 Also, did I mention how talented he is?! He gets criticised a lot for his weird playing style and humming (sometimes singing) during his performances. I love it tho 😘 it really adds something to the records

Louis👏Nicolas👏Davout👏 How can you not like this absolute beast of a man?! Sure, he was a bit rough with his soldiers, but I like a leader who doesn’t fuck around! We need more men like him! I feel for him though. He really was the least liked out of all Napoleon’s marshals, I relate to that because my fam doesn’t like me even though I’m a girl boss 👹 Poor old Davout was just doing his best! Here’s a quote that he wrote to Berthier —

“I cannot help admitting to myself that often my exactingness and my severity alienate good officers from me even before they barely have time to assess my true intentions."

Ommmgggg 😭😢

Ahemmm…. As a student I kinda have a love-hate relationship with this guy. I’ve suffered so many sleepless nights because of him 👩‍💻📚📚📚 But without this guy we’d probably still have our children working 16 hours for absolutely nothing (we still do actually, it’s heartbreaking). His works literally had soooo much impact on history, it’s unbelievable.

And of course, how can we forget our hero!?! I wanna be like him soooo much it aches 😫 My family genuinely don’t understand my obsession with this man, like how could they not?!! His image is literally on the wiki page for the “Great Man Theory” — that individuals with certain traits are able to affect the course of history rather than it being due to some larger force or something I dunno it’s an IR/history thing I’m studying 😢

[mehbzz]

I’ve been reading through your PolyGhostface tag like a woman possessed! You are the first writer I’ve encountered who captures the dark side of these two and perfectly balances it with the good, silly and often endearing traits they displayed in the movie. I’ve never been much of a Stu and Billy fanfic reader but I’m completely hooked on your stuff! Thank you for writing it!

If you’re still receiving requests and if it interests you at all, could you tell me how Stu and Billy would take a reader who was plus size? Given their preoccupation with masculinity and perception and the toxic diet culture of the 90s, I think even if they liked the reader and were attracted to her this could be a struggle for them. Or/and how they would take a reader who writes horror fiction. As interested in scary movies as they are but in the realm of short stories and literature. Maybe a bit more cerebral. Given how you describe Stu in particular as feeling superior to you, I’m dying to know your take on him having to deal with a love interest who is blatantly smarter than him or Billy. (not that movies are less intellectual than literature but just in addition to that)

Either way, thank you so much for posting your writing! It’s fantastic!

having to deal with a love interest who is blatantly smarter than him or Billy.

If you flaunted it,Stu would hate it, you'd be subject to a lot more of his bitchy side, there'd be more digs at things he knew you were insecure about, smothered in OTT affection so you dont get to upset that you want to break up. Otherwise I don't think he'd care, his ego would win out. you're smart, so what? He's smarter.

Billy would be kind of turned on and impressed with how smart you are. if you have to same or similar interests/knowledge/opinions he's going to love you even more, because you just get him, you know? but again, flaunt it too much, correct him, prove him wrong or disagree with him too much and he's going to sulk.

Neither would be able to admit you were right. You'd get a dismissive "yeah whatever" and a distraction or a change of subject.

 how Stu and Billy would take a reader who was plus size?

I think Billy might have more of a problem with it than Stu.

Billy cares deeply about his image, so I think there might be some embarrassment there, maybe some dickish encouragment to not wear certain things, or ordering for you if you ever went out to eat together. The level of control he wants over you would probably increase so that you don't embarrass him.

I think Stu has that 'more cushion for the pushin' mentality, but would absolutely be a dick about it. if you were insecure about your weight/figure he'd use it against you. Definitely loves to grab and grope you, loves to feel you squish in his hands. I don't feel he'd care as much as Billy would. Except as a way to knock you down if he felt like it.

If the relationship is still secret, they're not going to defend you outright to any bullying. I don't think they'd join in, (well Billy wouldn't, but depending on the level of teasing Stu might.) But they're not going to speak up for you in public.

After hours, in the dark, when that person is alone, 🤷‍♀️ they might get some revenge for you.

[goldnskyart]

Skateboards and jam 3/?

This is probably my favourite thing I’ve ever written, especially the last few paragraphs, so I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do😭

ao3 | <- Previous | First | Next ->

Instinctively Roman put his arms out to catch himself, and this time it worked. His hands and knees hit the ground hard. Virgil was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize what was going on before he was on the ground, flat on his back with Roman’s hands on either side of him. His face started to flush again, accidentally locking eyes with the other, who was awkwardly leaning over him on shaky hands and knees. Those eyes truly were something special with how they kept making his heart race. Roman froze for a moment, his body screaming in pain. And on top of that this was undoubtedly the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. ”I’m sorry.” He almost whispered, before quickly trying to get on his feet using his right hand, putting more weight on it he softly winced before smoothly switching to using the left one instead. Trying his very best to keep face and pretend nothing hurt.

Virgil's eyes widened noticing his pained expression, damn he really hurt himself this time. Worried he quickly followed him up, brushing the dirt off the back of his black jeans. But Roman got there before him, “Are you alright??” He asked, looking at him with big worried eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright, don’t worry about it.” He replied, still trying to get the stubborn dust off his pants. “Turns out this really isn’t my thing, huh?” Roman chuckled, his face burning red. He couldn’t believe he just did that, just falling was bad on its own but this, mortifying, by now he had for sure blown any shot he might have had. Maybe he should just leave now before embarrassing himself further he thought and slowly started to back away. Suddenly he felt a soft hand around his wrist. “Hey wait, come with me.” Virgil said gently but still firmly, it wasn’t a question. He had turned around to pick his board up and when he turned back Roman already started to back away from him, visibly in pain. He didn’t like to admit he was worried about him but it just wasn’t something he could allow, he couldn’t just let him leave like that when he knew he could help. He gave him a gentle smile “I think you need to sit down for a bit”, his hand still firmly locked around the other's wrist. Romans eyes slowly widened, but he followed him without protest. “Sure,” he murmured, too flustered to look directly at him. It wasn’t like he wanted to leave anyway, and as long as Virgil didn’t want him to, he'd be more than happy to stay. And they were basically holding hands, what could be better than that?

Virgil had a specific spot in mind. Most of the benches in the park were placed in the center, always used by the other skaters' bags and jackets and in the middle of the big crowd, not where they wanted to be right now. But a little hidden on the opposite side of the park there was a small concrete wall. Most used it for spray painting but it was also the perfect height for sitting, he had done so often while waiting for his friends. Virgil stopped, gently letting go of the other. “Here, have a seat.” He gestured vaguely towards the wall. Roman plopped down with a big sigh. “I guess you were right,” he chuckled, not able to keep his eyes off the skater’s nervous expression. He truly has no business being that cute.

For a moment Virgil just zoned out, staring blankly at nothing, mindlessly spinning a wheel on his skateboard. He shook his head a little, trying to snap out of it before putting the board down next to Roman’s feet. The guy really wasn’t in great shape at this point, apart from his hands the knees and forearms were covered in bleeding scrapes. He knew from experience it probably looked way worse than it was, but that didn’t mean it was good. And it certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. Virgil sighed as he sat down on the ground right in front of him, getting not one but two packs of bandaids out of one pocket and a bandage from the other one. It felt a bit embarrassing to admit he was always carrying those around, but he had needed them enough times that it started to feel justified. Roman tilted his head in confusion as he realized that he was sitting down on the ground instead of next to him on the wall, eyes widened seeing Virgil get a bunch of bandaids out. “You really don’t have to-“ he began but was swiftly interrupted by the other looking up at him. “No, I do.” He said and gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “I have the time and the stuff and you clearly need it so why wouldn’t I?” He pointed out while opening the first pack of bandaids. “Unless you need to go soon of course-“ he quickly added, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Roman aggressively shook his head at that, “No no no, I don’t, I can stay all night if I wanna.” He let out a little laugh, “I just didn’t expect you to want to do that- there’s gotta be more fun things you could do.” Virgil shrugged, “nah not really- besides this is kinda calming..” He felt his face heating up but he didn’t quite understand why, it was true, nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Well if you say so” Roman chuckled. He didn’t like admitting that he needed help but he probably did, and the fact that Virgil wanted to take care of him made his heart flutter a little. Gently Virgil started to place some bandaids, trying to be light on the hand to avoid any unnecessary pain. “How come you just have all this with you?” Roman asked, genuinely curious, he had never met anyone who carried anything more than a couple stray bandaids for emergencies. Virgil tensed up a bit at the question “I just like being prepared, you never know when you’ll need them” he replied, trying hard to avoid looking at the other. And he seemed to accept that answer, they sat there in silence for a while, Virgil slowly working his way up from knees to arms. Using up every last band aid. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the sight of him, not unlike a toddler who just fell off a bike for the first time. Hurting himself that much was almost skillful.

“So, which hand?” Virgil asked, bluntly but not harsh, finally looking up towards him again. Roman chuckled nervously, “I don’t know what you’re talking-“ he was interrupted by a stern stare, accompanied by a hand reaching out towards him, telling him to just quit his bullshit. He sighed, “alright,” giving him his right hand, for some reason he was more embarrassed about this than the scrapes covering most of his legs. And the thought of him gently holding his hand made him blush furiously. “You can move it right?” Virgil carefully took his hand “Mhm.” Roman nodded, it did hurt but it absolutely wasn’t that bad. “Good.” He smiled a little and gently started to put the bandage on, for some reason holding his hand like this made him feel weird. For a moment he stayed quiet before he let out a sigh “I feel like I should probably tell you this..“ Stopping for a moment, eyes fixed on the ground beside him. “You do know I can’t actually skate very well, right? Better than you, but like I’m still very much a beginner.” He laughed a little to himself, glancing up at the other. Roman stared up at him with wide eyes, the thought hadn’t ever crossed his mind. But thinking about it, he hadn’t actually ever seen Virgil on his board, he was always carrying it around or sitting on it, but never actually using it.

Virgil swallowed hard, he couldn’t read that expression at all, maybe he should’ve just stayed silent. Not that he cared about what this guy thought of him, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of him. “Well that explains the band aids then.” Roman laughed softly and gave him a gentle smile, the skater couldn’t help but also laugh a little at that. “It’s true, I do usually need them myself.. but never quite that many.” He chuckled, a weight lifted from his chest. Roman laughed with him and briefly Virgil stopped and turned to look at him, immediately regretting it. His laugh was the most breathtakingly beautiful thing, and the sun perfectly hit his golden brown hair and soft cheekbones to make him look absolutely radiant. And his eyes, oh god his eyes, a soft honey color gently sparkling in the sun, he’d never seen anything like it. Quickly he looked away again, face flushed Finally he had realized what was going on. Putting the rest of the bandage on wasn’t easy, suddenly he was hyper aware of everything he did, and holding the other’s hand in his made him almost nauseous from the rush of feelings. He absolutely did care what this boy thought of him.

Thankfully for him, Roman had gotten started talking and was barely stopping for him to respond. So he could comfortably just sit and admire him for a while as the golden light danced across his face, his soft hand gently resting in Virgil’s, trying to come to terms with his new feelings. He knew he was a little out of touch with his emotions, but missing this massive crush was strange even for him. He really thought the nerd was just getting on his nerves. Maybe it was for the best though, if he had felt like this he never would’ve approached him, ever. Now he at least got a chance.

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

The Bouquet

Summary: Sirius is nervous to see his longtime ... something ... but a stop at a small Parisian florist shop helps him feel more prepared.

Notes: Harry Potter universe, famous!AU, rockstar!Sirius x reader, oneshot; this is the first character x reader oneshot I’ve written (the others are all OCs), so let me know if you like it! 

Part 2 available now!

Sirius kept his head down as he walked through the web of Parisian streets surrounding Sorbonne Université’s campus. He’d done his best to dress in ordinary clothes, even borrowing a t-shirt of Remus’s since all of his own were covered in sequins or made of mesh or fishnet fabric, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn’t be recognized. He loved Marauders fans dearly, but today, he simply wanted a moment to himself. His heart had nearly jumped into his throat when he saw Paris on the list of stops on the Marauders’ Europe tour, and he’d been buzzing to get to the City of Light since they had hit the road. 

A small florist’s shop caught Sirius’s attention as he turned down a narrow, cobble-paved alley, and, hoping to steady his anxious heart, he slipped inside. Immediately met with the scent of every fresh flower he could imagine (and the sensation that his leather jacket was sticking to his skin from the humidity), Sirius meandered his way through the narrow aisles, searching for a flower that stood out. 

“Puis-je vous aider, ma chérie?” 

Sirius peered over his shoulder—perhaps he hadn’t thought the whole ‘undercover’ thing all the way through—and let out a small, quick sigh. The woman who spoke was a teacup of a woman: decadent in appearance, warm, several decades older than he, and immensely small. Sirius figured she probably wouldn’t know who he is. 

“Oui, s’il vous plaît,” he said, cringing at his odd-sounding French. He was out of practice.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” the woman asked, shuffling her way to stand next to him.

“Um, I’m not sure,” Sirius admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “I don’t often go flower shopping.”

The teacup woman laughed lightly. “Well, what are you buying the flowers for?” She peered knowingly at him over her spectacles. “A young lady, perhaps?” Sirius aggressively avoided eye contact as something akin to fire spread up his chest and neck, threatening to swallow him whole. She laughed again. “I see,” she said, peering at the bouquets around them. “I can help, ma cherie, don’t worry.” 

Sirius trailed after the teacup woman as she shuffled to the other end of the shop. A sign hung above several aisles, reading Crée le Tien: Create Your Own. She slowly made her way up one aisle, then down the next, picking and choosing a blossom here and there until she accumulated a beautiful fistful of small flowers, each prettier than the next. 

“Here,” she said, and Sirius took the bouquet. Pointing at each kind of blossom in turn, she listed: “Baby's Breath for everlasting love, forget-me-nots for respect and true love, Queen Anne’s Lace for safety, sweet alyssum for worth beyond beauty, and honeysuckle for true happiness. And an extra alyssum for you. When it starts to wilt, get her more.”

“Oh M-goodness, thank you,” Sirius said, taking the extra flower and peering at each flower. “Truly, this is perfect. Thank you.”

The teacup lady smiled knowingly. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, ma cherie.”

Sirius blushed lightly. “I hope so.”

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 20 “Camping (T)Rip” [Episode List]

Tim, Dave, Adam and Greg go camping together to relax and chill for a day far from any responsibility, enjoying the sounds that nature has to offer. Those sadly include Dave’s farts and belches however and things get even gassier when Tim has to share a tent with him.

POV: Tim

Camping (T)Rip

5:30 AM.

I hate waking up early on Saturday morning. Who does? Yet here I am.

We’ve been planning this for weeks but in the end we managed to choose a date which was suitable for everyone’s needs and didn’t interfere with any of our jobs. No girlfriends (not that I had any… obviously), just us guys being dudes in the woods… well not far into the woods but kind of. We all are kind of city slickers after all and while we do like camping, we don’t it as often as we’d like to admit.

I already took a shower and put some clothes on (a simple t-shirt and some sweatpants), so we don’t mess up the schedule. Dave was a heavy sleeper so I went into his room to wake him up.

“Yo, sleeping beauty. Are you waiting for you prince?” I said, as I stepped in.

Indeed there he was, lying on his bed on his stomach, basically naked, only wearing a pair of white shorts, his body figure still being quite a sight in the dimly lit bedroom. 

“If you’re the prince, I’d rather just die here.” he joked, his voice muffled as he had his face buried in the pillow.

I clapped my hands like an angry housewife. “Come on. Get up. Rise and shine.”

His second answer wasn’t muffled at all instead.

Without moving, an enormous, airy morning fart erupted from his ass, surprisingly not tearing a hole through his white shorts. It was loud and proud, so powerful that I’m sure the neighbours were gonna hear it. As he ripped it, he couldn’t help but turn to me, his face still being visibly tired, but I could recognize his smirk, that silly-cocky smile he displays when blasting farts around me, knowing very well what effect they have on me. In fact, as the fart ended, he laughed, noticing the boner through my sweatpants.

“Bro if you wanna pitch a tent you could've at least waited ’til we were in the woods.” 

I simply walked out of the room, hearing Dave’s laughter behind me. Truth is, yes, I found that hot, but I too was laughing on the inside, despite the utter embarrassment. “Fuck off.” I stuttered, to which he replied with a distant, short, loud rip.

I heard Dave getting ready upstairs as I waited for him. Our buds, Adam and Greg, were heading to our place with the former’s car, who agreed to take it as long as Dave was the one driving, ‘cause he’s not very familiar with the countryside and dirt roads -not that Dave was a rally driver or anything, but he had some relatives out of town living in some farm or something, so he should know how to deal with such roads, more than us at least. 

Despite my bro/roommate’s oversleeping, we were right on schedule. Luckily we all packed our stuff the day before so we were basically ready. Finally, Dave joined me downstairs, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of camo cargo shorts. And sunglasses: he looked like he was ready for a beach day rather than a camping trip. I probably stared at him for a bit because he is a good looking guy after all, and wondered how I got this lucky to have such a bro.

Before I could stare for too long, we heard some car honks coming from the front yard.

“You can stop staring, bro. Dumb&Dumber are here.” 

Oh. I guess he noticed. “I’m so-“ I tried to say.

“Yeah yeah you can apologize for thinking that I’m a good lucking guy later. We don’t have time for this.” he said, as we both got our stuff and rushed outside.

Dave was very patient with me, that’s for sure. He wasn’t annoyed by my appreciation, but rather by me still being so awkward around him. Again very embarrassing for me, but I’m glad that at least he knows that he’s hot -as he knows that I’d never cross certain lines… despite him regularly planting my face into his farting ass!

“Hey ladies.” Adam greeted us outside, helping packing our stuff into the back of the car. Greg and Dave shared an ironic manly handshake as if the two were businessmen, while I set our destination on the GPS.

After we finished stuffing Adam’s vehicle with things that we’re probably not even gonna need for our short trip, we got into the car. Adam and Greg in the backseat, I was on the passenger seat, as the navigator. And Dave, as said before, was the driver.

“It shouldn’t take long.” I commented, staring at the GPS screen. “Around 1 hour at least.”

“Thank you. What about the weather?” Dave replied.

“Well it’s gonna be… you don’t give a shit, don’t you?” I didn’t notice his sarcasm.

“You two can solve your sexual tension in the tent later by the way.” Adam said, annoyed that we were still parked in our front yard.

Finally, Dave got the car moving and our trip officially began.

Being the driver, my bro/roommate (broomate?) was also in charge of the music, some indie rock junk but luckily we all kind of had the same tastes so it’s fine. Me and Adam got into a silly argument about a singer while Greg wanted to convince Dave that today’s music is all bad no matter what. He had some good points, but as usual we chose not to listen to him in the end.

According to the GPS we were halfway there and honestly it was all going well. Greg fell asleep (it was early morning after all) while the three of managed to stay awake. We were just casually chatting and making jokes, until I heard that familiar sound, a sound that you better get used to if you’re friend with Dave. However, much to both of our surprise, as we shared a puzzled look, it wasn’t him: it was Adam.

I turned around, and indeed it was him, just ripping a huge, almost Dave-like one, the sound kind of muffled by the seat, the fart rumbling through his cargo shorts. 

“Sorry guys.” Adam apologised. “The pizza we had last night is kind of messing with my stomach.

“Yours too?” Dave simply replied, with a cheesy grin, and leaned a bit, keeping his hands on the wheel.

Now THAT’S the sound I’m familiar with. It was like my bro took Adam’s rip as a challenge to prove who's the alpha so he made sure to up the game as he usually does. The rip echoed in the car and woke Greg up, who thought we were gonna crash. Dave’s alpha gas earned him an applause and our amused (and immature) laughters, even mine. Despite everything, despite the kink, one gotta admit that he got some mad skills. And while driving on a dirty road, nonetheless!

It didn’t take much for him to hot-box the car, so we promptly rolled our windows down to let some fresh air in. As far as my fetish goes, I too appreciated breathing some clean air after that short competition. We then all resumed talking as usual, and Greg, perhaps mad because we interrupted his nap, started once again ranting about modern music and singers.

—

It took a bit more than 1 hour, but in the end we got there alive and well. We got the stuff out of the car and I started setting up our camp, the “camp” being literally two tents, one opposite the other, and a small fire pit in the middle, which we’re gonna use to do some BBQ later. We allowed Dave to have a beer already ‘cause he’s been driving the whole morning so he deserved some rest.

“I was wondering…” Greg said, looking around, as if he just now noticed we were in the middle of the woods. “what if a hungry wild animal bumps into our camp?”

“Don’t be a pussy.” Adam simply commented, annoyed. “Animals are idiots. Just make some loud noise and they get scared as fuck.” 

Even though I was busy with the tent, I could sense Dave taking that as a cue, an opportunity, from which end I still didn’t know. My bro took one long sip of beer and stood between Adam and Greg, as if he was there to save the day.

“Better safe than sorry, right?” he said, staring right into the woods, and emitting a long, loud belch, which echoed all around us. Whether Adam’s theory was true or not it didn’t matter: anyone would be scared of hearing that, human or animal. A master air-bender from both ends, as usual.

He earned some very immature compliments from all of us and he was himself pretty proud of that. He even made a flock of birds fly away, like earthquakes do. Impressive indeed.

—

After a few hours of drinking, playing some sort of football for idiots, and just chilling, we finally got hungry.

To be more precise, we were starving, as we didn’t have breakfast, if we exclude a sandwich that we shared in the car.

Despite the pizza that Adam mentioned earlier, he was the one who fired up the BBQ first, being, as he put it, “the hungriest he’s ever been”. We all chose how we wanted our steaks cooked, knowing very well that our friend was gonna cook them all “well-made” anyway. 

“This fuckin’ fire.” we heard him hiss at the BBQ.

“You ok there?” Dave walked to him.

“The BBQ won’t start.”

“Maybe I can help.” 

He looked so serious, so professional, we truly believed him, but we shouldn’t have trusted him.

All he did was turn around and rip another one of his blasts through his camo cargo shorts, right next to the BBQ, like he was trying to use his fart to fuel the flame… and to be completely honest we did see some sparks here and there, but we couldn’t be 100% sure. Still, I wouldn’t mess with Dave’s talent so I chose not to say anything.

Either way, that wasn’t helpful at all, despite the fart lasting 12 seconds. He did make Adam mad though, with the risk of also making our steaks taste like, well, ass; so we all cleaned up the BBQ and started over just to be sure, we were all a bit tipsy anyway so we couldn’t even be mad (though we had all the rights to be).

In the end, we managed to have our steaks and sausages (I’ll spare you the very mature jokes we all made that afternoon) well-made, as predicted, despite Adam insisting that they were all perfectly cooked rare like we asked.

More hours passed and we did some more activities, even some hiking here and there around the woods, without going too far however, for laziness of all things, plus we were all drinking non-stop, as 75% of the car was probably stuffed with beers, and going to an adventure was the last thing we needed in these conditions.

We had another BBQ in the evening as we could finish our food, then just chilled around the fire pit sharing stories and half-drunk chatting about the most non-sense stuff, such as “What does light taste like?”.

In the end, we started to feel tired, and so we went to our tents: Greg and Adam had their own, while I shared mine with Dave.

—

In the tent we had no sleeping bags because it was a warm night, so we just laid down on some sheets and pillows and called it a day. The tent wasn’t big but we both of us fit nicely into it. We were lying next to each other, actually quite close of course, but Dave didn’t mind (and neither did I…). My broomate was still wearing his camo shorts, too tired to take them off, but was lying down shirtless, exposing his hairy chest and pecs. Again, Dave wasn’t an athlete, but he did sport a very nice body figure, which I certainly appreciated.

As I laid down next to him, checking some stuff on my phone, we heard Greg and Adam bickering like an old married couple in the other tent. We couldn’t fully understand what they were even talking about, but knowing Greg he was probably still rambling about today’s shitty music which, whether you disagree or not, at one point it gets tiring to hear the same thing over and over again.

But since I’m a hypocrite, this wasn’t true for Dave’s farts, which immediately made our tent shake. Instant boner.

To ease the blast out, my bro cocked his leg up, the one closer to me, showing off the loudness of his blast. The stench that engulfed me was pretty bad, as it tasted like the meat we had before, just rotten. The gallons of beer he chugged certainly acted as bonus fuel too.

7 long, loud and proud seconds and then once again silence.

“Looks like we’re gonna make some noise too.” he laughed, a bit tipsy from the alcohol but perfectly aware of his cruel teasing.

But I did laugh too, like the hopeless idiot I am.

I tried to focus on what I was reading, but next to Dave it was impossible let’s face it. The guy didn’t move but his leg was still up, and his ass wasn’t done talking.

A second fart erupted, very dry and (fittingly) meat-y sounding. Manly, basically.

I’m pretty sure Dave couldn’t smell his own raunchy farts, because there already was a sever lack of oxygen in that tent. And after the 8 seconds rip, he turned to me sporting his well-known cocky smirk.

“I’m just… you know…” he said, leaning a bit more on one side, fully pointing his ass at me. “…trying to scare wild animals.” 

And he made sure to scare me as well with a sudden loud rip. This time he was gonna tear a hole in those shorts I swear. That morning fart from hours before was nothing compared to the raw power I was witnessing. This third blast was however shorter (for his standards) than the ones before, ending at “merely” 5 seconds.

“Fuck.” I heard Adam say from the other side of our small camp. He sounded genuinely impressed. “How does Tim survive that?” he joked. Or maybe not.

“Yeah, Tim.” Dave turned again to me. “How do you do it?” he jokingly asked, with a smirk.

He then smiled, the smile of someone who knew he was brewing a big raunchy one. I heard his hand pushing me closer to his ass; I let him do it, as pretending to hate that was silly at this point.

My friend adjusted his position as my face got closer to his butt, and lifted his ass a bit… only to fully rest it on my face once I was under it. Despite everything, he wasn’t crushing me, as he was slightly leaning on one side, but believe me my nose was planted in his camo ass. Good thing Greg and Adam could hear us but not see us...

I went camping to hear the sounds of nature, and indeed what I heard right all over my face was the roar of a beast, so I guess it counts.

The fart was insanely big, one of his biggest ones yet, and made my head shake due to its power. The stench, which was already terrible due to his previous blasts, got even worse. As he ripped that monster fart, Dave cocked his leg up a bit more, once again to ease the fart out and also push my face deeper into his camo ass. He was having no mercy that night, as he made sure not a single particle of gas polluted the tent now, my face acting like a dam.

Silence followed that 16 seconds blast and I felt his ass bouncing on my face, a sign that Dave was laughing like an idiot. 

“Bro you ok?” he whispered, without moving however.

As I breathed all that gas in, I didn’t know what to say. It’s hard to get used to this, to Dave being such an alpha but also ridiculously chill about my kink.

“Tim you ok there?” Adam shouted from his tent, laughing at my (to him) terrible situation. The fact that they could hear Dave’s farts so clearly from there was yet another proof of my friend’s insane skills.

“Hold up, let me just…” he said, as he adjusted his position.

He then fully lifted one leg, kind of letting me go, but that didn’t mean he was done. I didn't move in fact, and kept lying there, closely inspecting Dave’s camo ass. And indeed sound came out of it… or rather, “came in”. He was sucking air in, supposedly brewing a massive one. I sometimes forget that Dave can fart on command; he rarely does it, not that he needs to anyway.

But when he does, it's like going beyond his own limits.

“This one’s gonna melt your skin off, dude.” he laughed. “I hope the tent doesn’t explode."

I could barely hear him over the sounds of the air going into his camo ass, but I guess he was truly saving the best and biggest for last. I was shaking, as I said I’ll never get used to it. He closed his eyes to force some last bits of air in. He was done.

He then looked at me and winked.

For an instant I’m pretty sure I went deaf and blind, as if a flasbang blew up right in front of my face. I quickly got snapped back to reality, my face right in front of my friend’s camo ass erupting one of the loudest farts I’ve ever heard, period. The roar of a beast, a beast forcing me to bow in front of it, and inhale all of the stench. 

Dave was truly the alpha, there’s really no other ways to say it, and I was more than happy to have a chill friend like him blasting me, once again realizing how lucky I was, ‘cause Dave got it all.

The fart kept going strong and made me sweat, my bro now just casually holding my head still, not that I was wanted to go anywhere anyway. 15 seconds and the beast was till roaring, with Dave spreading his long legs wide to make the sound even louder and the rip somehow even more powerful.

I feared that the tent was gonna turn into a hot-air balloon because of the amount of gas coming out of his ass.

10 more seconds and the beast finally went dormant. Almost 30 seconds in total. It was too much even for me.

I simply leaped again on Dave’s side and laid down before he could say anything, the fart still echoing inside my ears. Dave did the same and just turned to me, making fun of me with that stupid smirk.

“Nature’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he joked.

“Fuck off.” I said again, this time unable to hide my idiot laughter.

Dave simply punched me on the side in response.

“I’ve never seen a tent inside a tent.” he then said.

Took me a moment to realize, but yes, I pitched a pretty big tent in my sweatpants, but I can’t be blamed because I was sharing the tent with a fart master.

My bro simply turned his back to me, and went to sleep, muttering “My work here is done.”, not caring at all about my boner, ‘cause after all he knew about my fart kink, and the fact the got nothing out of all this was insane. 

I tried to fall asleep as well, hoping to “get rid” of that boner tomorrow morning, before anyone could wake up. Despite my bro’s farts, Adam and Greg also managed to fall sleep eventually, and I finally heard them, the sounds of nature, the wind, the trees dancing to the breeze… and Dave snoring right next to me.

End of Episode 20

[slyersky]

Stiles x Reader - Friendly flirting

(A/N): I tried to make this as gender-neutral as possible. I wanted to make this shorter than the stuff I usually do but it was a nice way to relax and get some old ideas out and think I started word vomiting a little-

I’m sorry if the characters are OOC, I’ve never written anything Teen Wolf related in my life and after watching, like, barely one and a half seasons, my friend encouraged me to start writing fan fiction about it. Being the good friend that I am, who is also horrible at telling people no, I did as they said. I hope it’s not too bad… Enjoy! :)

Content: Reader is a flirty little shit, Stiles gets flustered easily, slightly suggestive themes, short mentions of blood (nothing major)

Words: 2,700

“(Y/n),” Stiles tried to get your attention. His attempt was futile, leaving you with a fork loosely hanging in your hand without having eaten anything yet and your mouth slightly agape. It was lunchtime and you were sitting across from him and Scott. Not a word had left your mouth since you guys sat down. You just started spacing out, staring at your friend with a blank expression.

You probably didn’t even know you were staring at him, so lost in thought that your eyebrows were slightly furrowed. God, he loved the look on your face when you were in a world of your own. Where no one could reach you and you were all to yourself, able to think about anything you wanted. Stiles wondered what you were thinking about this time.

Occasionally, you even bit your lip, a very common habit of yours. You did it so often that your lips had grown a little chapped. He couldn’t help but pity your lower lip for the abuse it went through on a daily basis. He remembered that it had started bleeding once during one of the times the two of you studied together. You had been so concerned and stressed about upcoming exams that you kept biting, completely unaware of what that might bring. Stiles wasn’t going to lie, he always grew a little nervous when you did it. Not in a bad way though, of course not. He had to admit when you didn’t do it to the point of self-harm, it looked kinda hot.

But for now, he wanted you to eat instead of spacing out. There wasn’t much time left before you had to go back to class, so he tried to get your attention once more.

“Hey! -”, Stiles snapped his fingers in front of your face- “Earth to (Y/n)!”

Snapping out of your trance, your eyes focused on his fingers and then the face behind them. You shot him a sheepish smile and quickly began eating. Oh, how much he loved that smile. It was so warm and pure. It always seemed like you were smiling just for him, it made him feel special. Was it obvious that he thought you were beautiful?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare at you.”

“It’s fine. What were you thinking about?”

Now your smile formed into a smirk. You leaned a little closer to him and lifted your fork to vaguely draw circles in the air in front of his face.

“Oh… You know…-“ a small chuckle escaped you, even though you tried to hide it- “Just you and your perfect, adorable,… annoyingly beautiful face.” You winked and went back to your normal sitting position again. A short laugh escaped you as you watched Stiles’ face turn red in embarrassment. Scott, who was sitting next to him, only sighed.

“Get a room, you two,” he groaned, which made you laugh again.

“C’mon, Scott! You know I’m just messin’ with ya,” you were right. You were only messing around when you let out flirty comments and pick-up lines. Stiles had known that for as long as he had been friends with you. He remembered the first things you said to him like it happened yesterday.

— — —

“Uh, hey… Do you have a pencil sharpener?”, Stiles turned around to meet your gaze. You were holding up your pencil, its’ tip had broken off while you were trying to write with it.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Gimme a second…. Here.”

“Thanks. -”, you took it from his hand, fixed your pencil and handed it back to him with a smile- “Man… Without you, my life would be a lot like my pencil…pointless.”

Stiles had to suppress a laugh to not get looked at by their teacher. You grinned as he failed to contain a chuckle. He didn’t quite know if you were being serious but according to the look on your face, you weren’t trying to flirt. Even if you were smirking now.

“By the way, the name’s (Y/n)…”, you held out a hand to shake his, which he accepted.

“Stiles… Nice to meet you.”

— — —

Friendly flirting was another common habit of yours, not that he minded. Sometimes it was nice to hear those little compliments, even though he doubted that you actually meant them. He hoped you did. At least every now and then. If you complimented him so often, you must’ve somewhat liked him, right?

The ringing of the school bell made Stiles come back to reality. You made a panicked face and shovelled as much food into your mouth as you could without having to choke. In the end, you did end up choking but at least you were done with your meal. You groaned quietly as you put away your tray together with the other two boys.

“Jesus, maybe you should slow down next time, (Y/n)...”, Stiles commented with a concerned look.

“What can I say...? Maybe choking is just my thing?”, you winked and almost started laughing at the reaction of your friends. Before any of them could say anything you dashed off and yelled that you would see them in class.

——

A long sigh escaped you as you slouched down in the chair you were sitting in. Nothing was as boring as studying for a maths test, even if you were doing it with a friend. With your textbook in your lap and a pen in your hand, you started writing another equation on a sheet of paper.

“Why does this suck so much?”, you mumbled to no one in particular.

“Because there’s nothing fun about it…?”, a response came anyway. You spun your chair 180 degrees and then came to a halt to look at your friend, who was sitting on his bed. He was concentrating on solving his equations as well, book laying next to him, his notes propped up on his leg and his pencil tapping against his cheek.

“That’s one way to put it…”, you huffed and turned the chair around again. At least the two of you were almost done for the day, with only a few more math problems to go through. You wrote down a few equations and then quickly made matching graphs for them so you were able to compare them.

Stiles looked up from his work after he finished to check on you for a second. You mostly had your back turned to him, slightly turning the chair from left to right now and then. You had propped one elbow on the desk and laid your chin in your hand as you scribbled more stuff onto your paper. A strand of hair fell onto your face and you quickly blew it out of the way, only for it to fall back to block your vision. He had to stifle a laugh at your slight annoyance, you were just as beautiful as always. He noticed that you were back to biting your lip in thought. It already looked irritated.

“Hey. No biting.”, he commented and you shot him an annoyed glance.

“Yes, mom.”, you sassed back with a high, childish voice. However, you did stop biting. Good. Stiles didn’t want to run into the bathroom to get a bunch of tissues. The boy admired you for a few more seconds until you spoke up again.

“You like what you’re seeing?”, you smirked as you saw how his cheeks turned a little red out of the corner of your eye.

“I was just thinking that you’re taking an awfully long time to finish… If you keep this up we’ll be sitting here ‘till midnight.”, Stiles tried to quip back. You turned the chair once again and playfully threw an eraser at him.

“I’m going to go extra slow now just because you said that.”

“Noooo… Don’t do this to meee… It’s gonna be so boring!”, Stiles dramatically let himself fall back onto his bed. With an exaggerated sigh, he let an arm fall over his eyes. He heard you chuckle and then continue to work. However, it didn’t take long until he heard you set down your pen. A slight squeak of the chair gave away that you got up from your seat. He could feel the mattress dip next to him.

“Boring…? You’re lucky I’m done. And… I think I have something in mind that will be quite entertaining for us…”, still keeping his eyes covered he felt you move around on the bed until there seemed to be pressure next to both sides of his head. This was weird, what were you doing…?

Removing his arm from his face, he looked up at you. Your arms were trapping his head in between them and your legs were on either side of his waist, pretty much straddling him. Your hair was dangling down, framing your face perfectly as a mischievous smile spread across your lips.

“Woah- Wh-what are you doing…?”, the boy underneath you had trouble catching his breath, the question came out as barely more than a whisper.

“Isn’t it obvious?”, you leaned down a little. Your faces were almost touching and you could clearly see his face grow red once again and his eyes looking anywhere but yours.

Before he could say anything you let your body go limp. Without a warning you fell onto the bed with an exhausted sigh, halfway trapping your poor friend underneath you.

“What the hell, man!”, he let out a string of curses as he struggled to heave you off of him. You only let out a hearty laugh as you closed your eyes and relaxed. His bewilderment slowly started to subside while annoyance took its place.

“What? Sleeping is a good way to pass the time… Plus, all this studying was exhaaauuusting.”, you chuckled without opening your eyes. You didn’t notice how his demeanour changed.

“You’re so annoying…”, he huffed and got off of the bed. You turned onto your stomach and opened your eyes to look at him. Stiles grumpily sat down at his desk with his back turned towards you.

“Hey… What’s got your panties in a twist now?”, he didn’t answer your question. “C’mon, Stiles… You know I don’t mean these things…”

“That’s the problem,” he quipped back.

“…I’m sorry…?”, not sure what he meant, you sat up properly. You could tell that this was turning more serious than you would have liked it too.

“You act like all of this is some sort of joke. Did you ever take the time to think about the effect it has on others? Is any of this ever even serious to you? All you do is toy with people's feelings!”, Stiles avoided specifically mentioning himself, it would only make it more embarrassing for him. He glared at you over his shoulder. The boy watched you shrink in on yourself a little. You looked away from him and frowned to yourself. A bit of silence ensued.

Stiles slowly started to feel bad for snapping at you. This was just what you were like, how you showed affection towards others. And he never thought he would ever put you down for your personality. But it was frustrating. He knew that he could never have what he wanted and you just edged him on. Before he could say anything else, you finally broke the silence.

“You’re right… I was being an asshole. I know that most people take stuff like this very seriously, maybe I need to start doing that too. I’m… uhm… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy or hurt you.”, your voice was small. Avoiding any eye contact, you stood up from the bed and quickly grabbed your backpack. “I’m sorry that you had to put up with all that. I’ll just… It’s best if I leave now.”

Leaving the stuff that was still on his desk behind, you made your way out the door with your head held low. Stiles didn’t know what he had planned to achieve with his outburst but it certainly wasn’t this! Nooo no no. Letting you walk away would do more harm than good.

“Hey. Hey hey hey, wait. (Y/n) wait!”, he jumped up from his chair and leapt through the door. You were still on your way through the hallway and Stiles managed to catch up. He grabbed your arm with a little more force than he wanted to and made you stop in your tracks. He turned you around to face him but you looked down at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

“…Look… I shouldn’t have said that. I know this is not an excuse but I just got so frustrated…”

“No, it’s fine. I crossed your boundaries and made you uncomfortable. I get that you would get mad at that.”, you interrupted him.

“It’s…not just that…”, well, Stiles had started it now, he would not be able to back paddle. Was this even a good time to confess? Then again, when would he get the chance to talk about his feelings like this again?

“What do you mean?”, now you finally lifted your head to look at him. Were those… tears in your eyes? Were you upset because he had yelled at you? Or maybe because you thought you were annoying him? Whatever it was, the look in your eyes made his heart sink a little.

“Uh… I was frustrated… because you keep doing this whole friendly flirting thing. And I know that you’ll never mean those words the way I want you to. Because I’ve liked you for quite some time now and every time you compliment me I don’t know if there is actual honesty behind those words. And it hurts a little.”, now it was his turn to look away. He had to get it off his chest. Would that ruin their friendship? Probably.

“Shit, who am I kidding? It hurts a lot, actually. But I still listen and I still embrace it every single time because there’s this tiny glimmer of hope. The hope that you do feel the same, that you actually mean what you say.”, his hands were starting to gesture now. The silence was too loud, he needed to distract himself from it. You weren’t saying anything, just staring at him. What should he do? Should he keep talking?

“I guess what I’m trying to say… Is that I like you, a lot. And that I was hoping that you felt the same way, even though the odds of that are extremely low and I-“, Stiles was cut off by two hands grabbing his cheeks and pulling him downwards. You managed to shut him up by placing your lips on his. The kiss was short but he still felt breathless as you leaned away again. He could’ve melted into the floor right then and there. His face grew redder than he could ever imagine, making you laugh out loud. Finding the right words to say was hard, he stuttered out a few words that never correlated into a sentence.

“Oh no. I think I broke you.”, you laughed as you removed one of your hands from his cheek and wiped the tears that had gathered in your eyes before.

“Y-you did not.”, Stiles finally managed to protest. “But… does that mean…?”

“Yes, you idiot. I like you too. And to be clear, whatever compliments I gave you, I meant every single one of them. Although I have to admit that messing with you was pretty fun.”

The boy let out an exaggerated gasp and stepped away from you.

“I can’t believe it. I fell for someone so cruel that they would purposefully mess with someone’s feelings.”, he theatrically rested the back of his hand against his forehead and acted as if he faint like a Victorian lady.

“What can I say… I guess I must be quite the sadist.”, you wiggled your eyebrows at him and he only groaned.

“Nope, I’m not tolerating this anymore.-“, he stated playfully and wrapped an arm around your waist to drag you back to his bedroom. -“You’re gonna get your punishment for teasing me for so long.”

“Oh~? And what did have in mind, dear?”, you smirked as his face turned red once again. You could have sworn that steam was starting to rise from his head.

“Get your mind out of the damn gutter, pervert!”

[hyewka]

There really has been no dom beomgyu smuts lately as a switch myself I’m a little sad haha but I also find it really funny but I don’t think there’s a lot of sub beomgyu smuts just because people think beomgyu is submissive because honestly I just think the whole of txt are switches and I think dynamics also really depend on what kind of partner you have as well so I wouldn’t say someone is dominant or someone is submissive. I think reading femdom smuts is just a lot more fun to read and probably to write because I feel like normal ones can get quite repetitive and it feels more exhilarating and powerful even if you aren’t actually a dom irl it’s nice to see women being more dominant with men because in real a lot of guys have quite a fragile masculinity with it. Also txt tumblr is quite small compared to other kpop writing communities I’ve seen, there isn’t actually that many consistent blogs on here and so actual smuts on any txt members have actually been quite sparse. I’d say sub beomgyu became a thing because of the blueprint blogs that kickstarted it such as wildernessuntothemselves I had never really seen submissive beomgyu until they came around and other blogs such as you and fairyofshampgyu inspired others to write sub beomgyu because those blogs were the only really ones consistent and kickstarting this. Haha I don’t know why this is so long but hopefully it is somewhat coherent!

Definitely agree with the femdom writing being fun-- like, you don't need to be a dom in real life to enjoy writing it and that is the case for me 😅 This is a little bit of a contradiction to your earlier statement but I genuinely do not believe I have one percentage of dominant energy, completely submissive over the years with my relationships (but I'm starting to doubt it just a little bit after getting into femdom content so....idk 😂). Yes, yes about the women being more powerful kind of serving as an exhilarating experience even when just writing it-- is it a little embarrassing to admit that most of my smut are incredibly self indulgent? Lol I seriously just cannot with meeting so many men who have fragile masculinity, working with them, talking with them-- it just bleeds through every interaction it's aggravating! Writing it as a fantasy of putting someone "in their place", definitely like a reliever after having to put up with it practically every day of my life.

Point made with TXT tumblr being small! Did a quick comparison to other 4th gen boy groups and it's a little odd how significant the difference is at times? 😂 Yet the smut tag has more people posting under (maybe that changed over the past few months and fluff is what people are leaning more towards?) even though there's definitely a sparse number of consistent blogs (which would naturally equate to less variety in content).

Ha! I was on here earlier than I started posting like most people are on tumblr, and I'd have to say that your observation skills are so good because lol yes, @wildernessuntothemselves (heh sorry for tagging you mort but i just might want you to see this 😂) was definitely a blog I first got introduced to with sub!beomgyu like, just hardcore, straight up whiny boy and a powerful woman (lover = loser fic...ah, very delicious).

There were definitely some fics here and there, but kick starting it, I'd want to give that credit to her! After a bit, @fairyofshampgyu came out with their fuck you series, and I'd say both are sort of the blueprint of the recent rising in seeing beomgyu as a very strong sub. Before this, you'd see one of those MTL posts and almost always Beomgyu is categorized as a hardcore dom, and now I almost get shocked seeing Beomgyu being considered more of a sub than Hueningkai and Soobin (who were often seen as softer doms or just sub men in general).

I wasn't even meaning to turn this blog into a sort of sub!beomgyu cult of fics, like...at all so I find it funny that I'm jumbled together with a more experienced writer like Nia 😂 But yeah, some really good points. It's just funny how a few months ago I was desperately looking for anything sub!beomgyu related (to the point i created this blog in hopes of receiving sub beomgyu requests), just a tinge because everything under the smut tag was hardcore dom, I wouldn't have imagined the tables would turn so quickly especially considering male subs aren't particularly that popular comparative to their counterparts.

I do feel for people who are sub leaning, content is sparse with txt in general-- and for people to get even simply blocked for requesting a dominant beomgyu? A... little insane 😅? I even remember this sort of thing being brought up around three months ago, someone talking about how they see Beomgyu as a complete dom and do not understand that appeal of the recent surge of sub Beomgyu-- perception is different, and I do wish for you and others to get more dominant Beomgyu fics, everyone deserves a little treat 😭