#it’ll be nice to be done thinking about this one!

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

🥀 Unwary 🥀

After working on and off for MONTHS and staring at it a long time, here’s the Théodwyn story many of you have heard me agonizing over. I can’t look at it anymore, so we’re just hitting “post”!

It’s called Unwary, which is one of the few words Tolkien gives us to describe Théodwyn’s husband Éomund. He was a “hater of orcs” who often rode against them “in hot anger, unwarily and with few men.” That got him killed and, shortly thereafter, Théodwyn herself died of an illness. This story is my attempt to tie all that together.

Note that Théodwyn’s 3 (canonical but nameless) sisters are here; they came to help after Éomund’s death. You’ll see I gave 2 of them Gondorian names; more explanation of that at the bottom if you’re interested.

There is a fire inside Théodwyn that will not be doused.

It has smoldered for years, just waiting for the breath of air that would coax its glowing embers to life and send a wave of flame racing through her as though she were made not of bone and blood but of kindling and fuel. Now lit by Éomund’s inevitable death, the fire burns bigger and hotter each new day that dawns without him, and it laps at her heart, singeing and charring until there is nothing left but heat. Gone is anything soft and pliant, anything tender or understanding, replaced instead by blistering fury.

She stalks the plains outside of Aldburg in the dark, crunching heavily over glittering, frost encrusted grass. She is trying to outrun that fury, though a fortnight of this new nightly ritual has achieved no such thing so far. But if she cannot leave her anger behind, maybe she can still exhaust it, tire it enough that it can be wrestled into submission and leave her in peace. Deep down, she suspects the effort is in vain, but she has no better plan. She is bereft of ideas, just as she is now bereft of laughter and sympathy and hope. Her husband is just one of many things suddenly missing from her life, and he is not the one she most wants back.

Sweat soaks into both her dress and cloak, and large red blooms form on her cheeks. Each gale of frigid wind catches the dampness at the small of her back or along her hairline beneath her hood, and sends a wave of wracking chills across her heated skin. But her pace never falters despite the passing of long hours and long miles. Over the sound of her boots grinding delicate ice into so many shattered crystals, she mutters her mantra again and again, hissing out the words in time with the rhythm of her steps.

I knew this would happen. I knew this would happen. I knew this would happen.

The night is her time to let this anger out, far away from Éomer and Éowyn, both much too young to be burdened with the knowledge that their dead father was a reckless fool. Someone who couldn’t control his own impetuous need to act and, worse, refused to accept a cautioning hand even from one he professed to honor and cherish. She had begged him not to go, to delay for even a single hour until more men could be gathered to join his small party of riders. But he had been blind, as ever, to anything but his own rash impulses and instincts. He had scoffed at her fears, swept aside her concerns, given bold assurances that weren’t in his power to make. And now he was being hailed as a fallen hero while she was left alone with the consequences of his folly, to manage a tragic loss that she knew to be entirely of his own making.

She hadn’t always felt this way about him. There was a time when she found his passion and spontaneity exciting. Stirring. Romantic. To be the object of his attentions, to be the desire that he would overturn the world to sate, was a special brand of intoxicant, and she drank it in willingly. His quickness to action and his unfailing courage set him apart from other men, and he gained much by risking more than others could stomach. She felt his every gain as her own, and they ran heedless together through the world, two free souls as yet unchecked by the realities of life.

But what felt brave and thrilling and decisive when they were twenty had begun to look much different on the doorstep of forty, when he had already gained more than most men could dream of and only stood now to lose what had been so daringly won. Slowly, creepingly, she began to see his whims as childish, his zealotry as self indulgent. It surprised her every bit as much as him, but somewhere along the way, with age and responsibility and perspective, she became the person who would check him as life never had. The person to ask questions, to say no, to thwart his boldest ambitions and disappoint his most absurd hopes.

Whenever she did, he would look at her as though he looked upon a stranger, an unrecognizable drudge that had stolen the body of his daring and passionate wife. He would look at her as though she had broken faith with him, betraying their bond by choosing to accept that they lived in a world of constraints and limitations. And then she would hate herself, and him, too.

A dull, thudding pain hammers away in the space right behind her eyes, and her muscles and joints ache with every wearied step, calling out for rest. To sit or lay quietly for a while might ease the strain that has increasingly weighed on her body these last few days, the strain of too little sleep, too little food, too little protection from the harsh bite of winter. But she no longer cares for physical ease or comfort. She can endure without them; it has always been the way of the Rohirrim to bear such things without complaint. What she cannot bear is the seething in her mind during moments of stillness, those times of lonely silence while others sleep and she can only gnaw on the bones of her grievances and look with contempt at her memories now tainted by abandonment. And so she stomps through the cold desolation instead, the frozen cloud of her breath drifting along in the wake of a body indulging in the only escape available.

She knows she should be at home in case her children need her, and she knows that her sisters disapprove of how she has been acting. You’ll catch your death out there, says Edlenniel each night as she walks out the door. You need to start taking better care of yourself, clucks Théopryte, a critical eye cast over her increasingly bony figure, her unkempt hair. And this, too, makes her angry, the insistence of her elder sisters on treating her as though she is still a child even now. Nothing she does is ever good enough in their eyes – her home is too untidy, her language too profane, her daughter too much at liberty to run wild rather than learning the ways of respectable girlhood. And now she cannot even grieve correctly.

In truth, she had not expected to mourn this way. The day Éomund rode off, she had imagined her own reaction to the eventual return of his meager company without him. Sorrow, longing, despair, regret – these had been anticipated despite her frustrations. But when Éothain knocked at her door with the news, watery eyes rimmed with red and a battered horse-tailed helmet in hand, she felt none of those things. They vanished in an instant, disappeared from her heart and mind, perhaps never to return. Instead, she became like the cicadas that come to Rohan every dozen years and litter the ground with their delicate molted shells, perfectly formed images of themselves that have been deserted, no longer fit for use and liable to shatter under the slightest of pressures.

Now every interaction, every well-meaning friend or suffering relative, is at risk of being the next target of the dull blade of her anger, always at the ready to hack and slice ineffectually at those who draw her attention and, thus, her scorn. The neighbors who look at her pityingly as they pass by. The men of Éomund’s company who expect her to join them in their grief. Even her sweet son, all knobby knees and gangly elbows, works an inflamed nerve as he swings a sword much too big for him, vowing to protect their house now in his father’s absence. It’s a mother’s job to protect her child, not the other way around, she says to the thin frame and slight shoulders that are not yet grown enough to bear his own charge. You have years left just to be a boy, safe under my care. But it is said through gritted teeth, her tone emotionless, and he doesn’t believe her.

She has enough awareness still to see what she’s become, and though she cannot change it, she knows to try to hide it. She labors each day to be the mother her children need, sitting with them as they cry and holding her tongue when they paint Éomund in their remembrances as a valiant hero, a man to rival all the greatest legends of song. But they know that something isn’t right within her; some voice inside their childlike minds warns them of peril in the one place where they were trained never to expect it. Éomer has stopped asking why she doesn’t cry, and Éowyn now clearly prefers to seek her comfort from Tadiel, whose soft arms, doughy middle and doting indulgence provide what Théodwyn’s sharp, angular body and brittle bearing simply can’t or won’t.

As it inches toward sunrise, she reluctantly turns toward home again, where soon the rest of the household will begin to stir and her absence will be noted, frowned about and tsked over. The judgment of her sisters is no real concern, but she doesn’t want to add to the worries of her children. For them, she will fight to maintain even the barest pretense of normalcy. For her children, she will sit in that house among the remains of Éomund’s life – his belongings, his clothes, his scent – and she will struggle to breathe through the poisonous resentment that is trapped in her throat because she cannot allow it to pass her lips. For her children, she will choke.

The gate comes into view and, beyond it, the garden that she once loved and nurtured into glory, now gone dormant for the winter. She stumbles on the rise to the path, and a knee drives into the frozen ground. She rights herself with difficulty, grunting in the effort, and she curses at this clumsiness. Weakness of body has never been a challenge of hers, and she cannot understand the heavy, dragging feeling that follows her to the door. For the first time, she considers whether everything – the throbbing head, the sweating skin, the screaming joints – is not just a product of exertion but something more serious. Something brought on by the refusal to rest, to eat, to stay warm, to accept comfort and support. It is an unsettling thought, and she tries to push it from her mind as she slips quietly inside.

The frozen sting in her fingertips and toes is a strange counterpoint to the burning heat of her forehead and cheeks, and she collapses into a chair by the fire, waiting out the gradual thaw of her frost-dulled limbs and the eventual return of her body to how it is supposed to feel. But though her fingers slowly lose their bluish tinge and sensation tentatively returns to her feet, the heat in her face and the exhaustion in her muscles only grow. Time ticks by, innumerable minutes that seem like hours, and she can feel it all continue to worsen. What little energy she had now spills from her body like the blood of the stags that Éomund used to hunt, their carcasses sliced open and left to drain. A shiver runs through her, once and then again and again and again, every time stronger until the shivers are full-body spasms that clack her teeth together, threatening to catch her tongue in each jolt. A low, groaning noise fills the room, and she discovers with surprise that it is coming from her own throat.

Good gods, Théodwyn. What have you done to yourself? Edlenniel is in the doorway, and the horrified alarm in her voice is enough to smother the instinct to snap in response. What has she done? She tries to stand, but her legs don’t respond. A strange distance has crept in and inserted itself between the intentions of her mind and the obedience of her body. She wills herself up again and lurches forward with great effort. Is she standing now? She cannot be, not with the cool, smooth stone of the floor somehow pressed to her flushed cheek. She would lift her head to check, but the exhaustion is so heavy that it pins her down, the turning of a screw that secures her, motionless, to wherever she has landed.

Her mind becomes slow and hazy, her sight flickering in and out as though she is passing quickly between rooms that are brightly lit and others that are in total darkness. Théopryte is there and then not. Calls for help are relayed down the hall, and more people rush in. Tadiel pulls Éomer from the doorway, a hand over his eyes as though the sight of his mother is too frightful for him even to look upon. Clamoring, urgent voices echo around inside Théodwyn’s head until they are no longer intelligible to her, just a whirling churn of volumes and tones. She floats, alone and disconnected, in a sea of others’ panic.

A man’s face appears in her field of vision, lifting her up and carrying her to a nearby couch. Théodred? It comes out as a hoarse whisper, and the face shakes its head. No, of course not. Her beloved nephew doesn’t live in Aldburg and never has. A neighbor, then? Or servant? She loses interest before she can unravel the mystery, distracted by a painful new sensation that prickles across the surface of her skin like a thousand small needles. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to exhale the pain with her every labored breath.

Uncounted hours pass, and she is now in her own bed, though she cannot recall being brought there. It takes all her effort just to keep her eyes open, and each time she blinks, it feels like scraping her eyelids over sand. She drifts in and out of lucidity, bobbing in a current of confused thought like a small boat tied up at the edge of a running river. When she’s lost, she is certain she can see Éomund in the corner, watching her in grave silence. When she’s present, she hears bits and snatches of hushed conversation, all in the voices of her sisters. The healer says there is nothing more to be done, says one. Such an awful waste, sniffles another. I knew this would happen, sighs the third. But who could stop her from running herself into the ground this way? She’s always done just what she wanted, no matter how rash or irresponsible.

Amidst all her pains, these words hit her like a blow, and an immediate, convulsive heaving in her stomach has others running for the healer again to manage this fresh symptom of her malady. But she knows it for what it really is: the retching out of unwelcome truth, her body’s rejection of this simple distillation of her fate. Recovery is not coming. She will die here in this bed, and her death will be needless. Pointless. And all the more shameful because she should have known better. She could have heeded the cautions and warnings of others.

Edlenniel leans her over a bowl as she empties herself of what little she’s eaten in the last day, and the bitter taste in her mouth lingers even after she has swirled and spat out many mouthfuls of water. It lingers as she collapses back into the sweat-soaked sheets that cling to every inch of exposed skin. It lingers as her addled mind struggles to reckon with the weight and cost of her mistake, this tragedy of her own making. It will always linger, for all the minutes she has left in the world and for the eternity that stretches out into the boundless, unknown future beyond it.

Her head lolls weakly to one side, and she can see Éomund in the corner still watching, silent and attentive. His face is not impassive, but calm. He accepts what has happened, is happening, will happen, and she must accept it, too. He dissolves into a vague blur as hot tears begin to spill down her cheeks, and whether they are tears for him or for herself, she isn’t sure. When she blinks her eyes clear again, he has moved closer to the bedside. He smiles softly, the wistful look of one who knows what it is to carry the burden of self-blame past any hope of remedy, and he reaches toward her with an open hand. A hand of consolation and invitation.

She will take it, but not yet.

Bring the children, she rasps out.

There is a moment’s debate in the room, furious whispers that drift to her ears. Not something a child should witness, she hears. There may not be time to wait, is the response. She repeats her request, louder this time, and the debate intensifies, rising in pitch and strength. But before the argument can resolve itself, Éomer has pushed in from the hallway, towing little Éowyn by the hand. Her words have reached them on their own.

She struggles to bring her son and daughter into focus, just as they struggle to see the outlines of their strong, capable mother in this frail, spiritless form. She craves nothing more than rest, but she knows she cannot; if she rests now, she will not wake again. She takes each one by the hand, their skin cold and dry against her own clammy fingers and palms, and presses those hands to her lips.

Be good for your uncle, she tells them. Your cousin will love you as a brother.

Éomer, quicker to understand, begins to cry, and his tears trigger Éowyn’s. Soon all three are crying together, for both the first and last time.

You deserve better than this, she should say. I have failed you, she wants to say. But would it give them any comfort to know that she belatedly understands her own mistakes? That left to do it all again, she would guarantee that they would never be without their mother? What can she tell them now that will help and not hurt, that will be a gift and not a hindrance? She swallows hard, and it is like swallowing gravel. Your father and I did the best we could, she whispers. The two of you will do better, and we will be proud.

She drops back to the pillow, exhausted beyond measure, and someone bundles the children back out into the hall again. Éomund smiles at her, and she nods. Her eyes drift closed as his hand wraps around hers, and the burning in her heart and skin slowly fades, the fire extinguished at last.

A note on the sisters of Théoden: Their father, Thengel, ran away to Gondor as a young man and lived there for a huge chunk of his life. He married Morwen, a Gondorian woman, and Tolkien tells us he only went back to Rohan “unwillingly” to take up the throne after his own father died. 2 of his daughters and his son were born in Gondor before that happened, and my HC is that all 3 of them had Gondorian names because, at the time, Thengel never had any intention of ever going back. So that gives us Edlenniel (“daughter of the exile,” since that’s how he saw himself) and Tadiel (“second daughter,” so overshadowed by her siblings that Thengel couldn’t be bothered to even give her an interesting name).

Théoden himself had a Gondorian name as well (Arnhereg, “royal blood”) but he changed it to something Rohirric (Théoden means “leader of the people”) when the family went back to Rohan both because he wanted to fit in better and because it seemed only appropriate that the future king of Rohan have a Rohirric name. Then when the other two sisters were born in Rohan, they were given Rohirric names as well (Théopryte, “pride of the people,” who was extremely beautiful; and Théodwyn, “joy of the people,” who was full of spirit).

3 of the 4 sisters were dead by the time of the War of the Ring (Edlenniel from old age, Théopryte from an accident, and Théodwyn as described here), and Tadiel had gone back to Gondor. Edlenniel never had any children and Tadiel and Théopryte had only daughters, which is why we don’t hear anything about other cousins that might have competed with Éomer for the throne after Théodred’s death. I’ve made a backstory for each of the sisters, but no use putting that all here since I’ve already gone on too long!

(Dividers by the wonderful @quillofspirit !)

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[penitenteyeball]

Dum de dum dum

Gonna add max tags and max characters to each cause who cares

[cultkinkcoven]

Super easy and cheap devotional acts for beginners.

A nice cup and some clean, fresh, water on the altar can often be all you need for daily offerings

Grow a plant on your altar, use your weekly watering as a devotional act. Hermes is currently helping my peace lily grow :)

Draw their sigil on your nails and then paint over them with nail polish that matches their color correspondences.

If you can’t acquire alcohol for your deities (wine, vodka etc) because you’re too young, white vinegar also works. The quality we’re looking for is the purification aspect. White vinegar is natural, antibacterial and never goes bad. You can leave it on your altar until it evaporates if you want.

If you work with a deity involved with self love like Aphrodite, investing a little more time into your skin care and scent can be very rewarding. Nothing super boujie, it can be as simple as getting some nice smelling lotion at the dollar store.

Food and water offerings don’t have to be external, especially if you’re in the broom closet and don’t have an altar. Reserve the first bite of your meal for your deity. Savour its taste while you think about them. Pour yourself a crisp glass of cold water and guzzle it as a devotional act.

Use a washable or dry erase marker to draw sigils on your shower wall for bath rituals. It’ll come right off when you’re done.

Tea bags are just bags of dried herbs. You can use these as offerings or draw sigils on them and burn them for witchcraft. No one is ever suspicious about a little tea. Adding a tea bag to your water offerings also gives them an extra kick.

A couple dollars at the thrift store will take you a long way. I love thrifting items because they’re usually well loved. I especially like thrifting spirituality books that past practitioners have written in. Sometimes my deities communicate with me through the books that are available on any given day. If I was just talking to Leviathan about the power of water and I see a book about Hydromancy, I know that he’s sending me a sign. Like, 90% of the books Lucifer has sent me popped up at the thrift store. Most expensive one was $7.99. (and I tag swapped it for 2.99 😊 thanks, Hermes-

and on this note, literally steal. Not from small local thrift stores, but I mean this with my whole chest, steal from Value Village. If you can sneakily swap a tag and get something for cheaper literally do it. Value Village gets all their inventory for free I literally do not care. Corporate thrift stores don’t deserve rights. I steal from Value Village as a devotional act to Hermes 😊 lmao )

If you don’t have money to spend on really nice paintings and posters of your deities for your altar, start buying books about them. It’s a double win. A book about Greek religion will certainly have multiple beautiful sculptures and paintings of Aphrodite that I can cut out and put on my wall. A book about angels might have a cool painting of Lucifer. Books about Goddesses, ancient religions, anthropology, astrology etc. You get the opportunity to learn, and if it’s a book you don’t particularly care too much for, you can take it apart for imagery. People ask me all the time where I got all of my paintings and pictures from. BOOKS.

Does your deity have a kind of complicated sigil that you love but you also kinda hate redrawing every other day? Sorry Cerberus (Naberius) I love you but that sigil is so complicated babe.

Learn how to block print! It’s very simple. You get a block of linoleum (usually pretty cheap, I think mine were like $5) , some ink (~$10), and a carving tool (varies depending), and make a sigil stamp! All you gotta do is draw your sigil and carve it out nicely one time. You can still bless it and imbue it with your energy, and you can easily put it on prayers, talismans etc.

Chalk is your best friend. Use it to draw sigils on the floor or wall that can easily be wiped away. You can imbue special chalk and use it for casting circles if you don’t like the mess of salt.

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

[okaylikeschaewon]

Boxes

~6k words, smut, male reader

“I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s way too expensive.”

Stupid… that was definitely stupid. For Yuri, there was no set of words that held less meaning. It just slipped out, a dumb mistake on your part. No matter how many times you’ve had this redundant back and forth in the past, you’re always left in the same place – this simply wasn’t a dispute Yuri would even consider losing, and eventually you would have to accept it.

“Just say thank you,” Yuri replied, not even sparing you a glance as she continued browsing. “Do you think I should try gold?”

“I think I like your platinum one more,” you answered, taking a quick glance at the necklace she was modeling before turning back to the pendant in your hands. “But it still looks nice.”

Yuri placed the necklace back and turned to you, sighing before flashing you a smile. “No, you’re right, it doesn’t suit me,” she commented, glancing around the store. “Come on, let’s try somewhere else.”

“I didn’t say it doesn’t suit you, it’s still nice,” you clarified as you placed the pendant back in the display case. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t have to lie, I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth,” she replied coldly, holding her hand out for you to take. “Now come on, let’s go. And pick that cute box back up before you offend me again.”

“Yuri, don’t be like that,” you groaned, picking the pendant’s case back up and taking her hand. “I said it’s nice.”

“Yeah and what you meant was it’s ugly on me.”

“I did not mean it’s ugly on you!” you protested before pausing in your tracks, holding up the little box. “Hey, forgetting something?”

“They know you’re with me, it’ll just get added to my account. They won’t hassle me for such a small purchase,” Yuri replied casually, turning to face you. “Put it back on, I like how it looks on you.”

“How the hell do you have such privilege at a Cartier store?”

“I come here all the time,” Yuri shrugged, holding her hand out for you to take again. “You’re asking too many questions.”

That’s a first, you thought to yourself as you put the pendant on and took her hand once more. “You’re just full of surprises,” you chuckled. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it. You hungry?”

“I could eat. You?”

“A little bit,” Yuri replied, letting go of your hand and leaning right up against your body instead, interlocking arms with you. “And we both know that just means I’m going to eat some of whatever you get.”

“Then tell me, what am I in the mood for today?”

She thought for a moment, scanning the food court around her before fixating on a stall. “Corndog.”

“Just a corndog?” you asked, knowing Yuri would always want more, even if just a bite. “How about some chicken? It's been a while.”

“I can get you some, sure,” Yuri replied, pulling you towards the food court. “You go get the corndogs, I’ll go get the chicken,” she instructed, handing you her credit card.

“It’s just a couple of corndogs, I can get it,” you waved her off.

“Don’t be difficult, take the card,” Yuri glared at you. She had this uncanny way of making you listen when she spoke, those slightly pursed lips – shining with just a bit of gloss – seemingly intensifying whatever words she decided to use in a way that just made it so difficult to argue. 

With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you walked off, leaving Yuri behind as you went to pick up her corndogs. You decided on one with fried potatoes on the outside, picking more so based on what you thought Yuri would like rather than your own preferences. After paying with her card and picking up the food, you looked around for her, finding her waiting at another stall.

“I thought you were getting chicken.”

“I figured you’d also want some noodles,” she replied, her gaze locked firmly on the man scooping them into the box. It was like she was in a trance, an adorable and cute one. She held up a receipt, still not even looking your way. “It should be done by now.”

And with the little slip of paper, you maneuvered through the crowd and picked up the yangnyeom from the next stall over – your favorite flavor – before bringing it back to the table that Yuri had settled on.

“It looks amazing,” you commented on the spread of food as you took your seat. “And this little box they put the chicken in, it’s so cute!”

“Unlike me in a gold necklace.”

“Yuri,” you sighed, holding her corndog up for her to take. “Are you really still on that?”

Yuri leaned forward and took a bite, keeping firm eye contact with you the entire time, taking her time to chew slowly. She knew what she was doing. That testy expression, ready to lash out at you at the first provocation, combined with the adorable fullness of her cheeks was sending you for a loop. On one hand you didn’t want to make her upset, but on the other hand she was so adorable right now that all you could think about was teasing her some more.

“How’s the corndog?”

“Maybe you try it yourself and find out,” she replied, picking up her chopsticks and starting on the chicken. “Then if you hate it, you can tell me it’s still nice or whatever you said.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“I don’t think so.”

“You absolutely are,” you crossed your arms. “You’re sulking for no reason.”

“First you call me ugly, now you say I’m being perverse.”

“Yuri,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re not ugly, but you are being perverse.”

“No I’m not, this is just my style,” she stuck her nose up in an attempt to seem sassy, but the food filling her cheeks made her look more adorable than anything else. “Why aren’t you eating? It’s going to get cold.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Yuri’s gaze left the chicken and landed on you, her eyes burning red in frustration. “What do you mean you’re not hungry, I got all this for you,” she snapped, putting down her chopsticks. “You said you’d eat.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Are you in the mood for something else? We can get whatever you want,” Yuri suggested, her features hinting real concern, the coldness evaporating before your eyes. “We can even go somewhere else–”

“I’m okay Yuri,” you replied, trying your best to hold back your smile. “I’ll just watch you eat.”

“No,” she whined, jumping to her feet and stomping around the table, sitting next to you. “Eat something, here,” she held up a piece of chicken for you, holding her hand under it.

“No thanks.”

Yuri’s expression shifted slightly from worry to determination. “Just take at least one bite,” she insisted, moving her chopsticks closer to your mouth, eyes wide and pleading. “Please?”

The corners of your mouth betrayed you, twitching upwards slightly. “Fine, just one,” you conceded, accepting the bite.

Yuri’s face lit up with triumph as she quickly grabbed another piece of chicken for you. “It’s good, right?” she asked, holding the piece up and blowing on it for you. “Here, have more.”

“Yuri I can feed myself,” you chuckled while grabbing her wrist gently. “But thank you.”

“You sure you don’t want anything else? Dessert maybe?”

“I’m good, this is more than enough.”

“Alright, just let me know,” Yuri yawned as she leaned her head against your shoulder. “I’m full.”

“You had like two bites.”

“So what, we’ll take the leftovers,” Yuri replied while stifling a small giggle at your reaction. “Good thing we have such a cute little box, right?”

“Yeah, right,” you grumbled before picking your chopsticks back up.

— 

“What are you about to do?” Yuri asked as she took off her coat.

“Nothing in particular,” you replied, waiting for her to ask for what you already knew was coming.

She ran up in front of you, watching patiently as you took off your shoes, her eyes shining in excitement. “Cuddle?” she asked once you slipped them both off, holding her hands out.

“Sure,” you smiled back and took her hands, following along as she pulled you into her little apartment.

Her place was modest to say the least – considering how much money this girl had. At first glance, you’d never know, but once you really started to take a closer look, the signs were there.

The couch – that she just pushed you onto – was easily the most comfortable couch you had ever sat on, facing a gorgeous, brand new OLED. The two of you have spent many evenings watching random movies, shows, and YouTube videos together here, more often than not falling asleep before making it to her luxurious king-sized bed, which was equally as comfortable – not that the girl needed a bed of that size.

Yuri quickly threw on some random video about some infamous thief before excitedly climbing onto your body, sliding into your arms and pulling out her phone. “Do you wanna share a hot chocolate or something?” she asked while opening up an app.

“Do you actually want hot chocolate or do you just want to try using the robot again?” you chuckled, giving her a small poke in the ribs. “Go ahead, let's see if it works this time.”

“It will!” she replied excitedly as she pulled out her phone. “Alright let’s do simple hot chocolate with… marshmallows and some chocolate flakes! Anything else?”

“Let’s try just that, I don’t really want to clean up a mess tonight.”

“It’ll work this time,” she whined, sending the order. “You just have to believe.”

“Alright alright, this time I’m with you, I believe in him,” you gave the back of her head a little peck. “And if it works, I’ll cuddle with you all night.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll probably still cuddle with you all night.”

“No take backs,” she giggled, turning onto her side and resting her cheek on your chest. She lay there for a while, watching the screen while the robot worked on the drink, breathing calmly as you ran your fingers through her hair slowly. “Do you really believe this guy managed to steal this much all by himself?”

“Not at all, it sounds absolutely ridiculous,” you answered, moving your hand down to rest it around Yuri’s stomach. “Although, he is clearly stupidly rich. Maybe he did kill all those people.”

“Yeah,” Yuri sighed softly. “Look at that house, it must have cost like a billion dollars.”

“Your sense of money might be a bit off,” you chuckled, giving her hip a gentle pat. “But even if it was a billion dollars, we both know you could afford it.”

“I prefer a cozier place, gives you fewer places to hide from me.”

“Truly a shame, I’m just stuck here with you all the time, nowhere to hide.”

“Hey,” Yuri rolled over so that she was facing you. She looked upset. “If I bought a bigger place, would you really hide from me?”

“Yeah, all the time.”

Yuri frowned, scrunching up her face in the most adorable way possible. “Stop joking,” she pouted, her shiny eyes pleading.

Why did she have to be so cute?

“Yuri, I promise I wouldn’t hide,” you cupped her face in yours hands and gazed tenderly into her eyes. “I love you,” you added before kissing her forehead softly.

Her frown melted away, replaced by the brightest and that adorable smile you’ve grown to love returned. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling herself into your body. “Say it again,” she whispered against your chest.

“I – love – you – so – much,” you kissed the top of her head between each word.

Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled as she looked up at you, squeezing tighter, as if she never wanted to let go.

“Yuri, I can’t breathe,” you playfully croaked.

She loosened up her grip slightly. “More than anything?” she asked with anticipation all over her expression.

“More than anything.”

“Then you won’t care if you can’t breathe,” she giggled before squeezing you again, as hard as she could.

Your lips couldn’t help but curl up into a smile at her antics. You began tickling her ribs, both of you getting lost in laughter with Yuri’s occasional shriek of protest as it turned into an impromptu wrestling match.

“Stop! Stop!” Yuri howled, laughing hysterically as she curled into a ball in a feeble attempt to protect her sides. “I can’t breathe!”

“Yeah, how do you like it?” you chuckled as Yuri finally broke away from you, gasping heavily and smiling.

“I’m not sharing my hot chocolate anymore,” she panted heavily, clutching her ribs. “Speaking of which, here it comes.”

Slowly and methodically, the little robot rolled over to Yuri with a fresh cup of hot chocolate. She picked it up carefully and shot you a proud smirk before taking a small sip as the robot rolled back into the kitchen.

“Ouch!” she yelped before giggling again, “It’s hot.”

“Dummy,” you shook your head in disappointment.

“It’s really good though!”

“I wouldn’t know, you’re not sharing.”

She looked at you, then down at the cup, then back up to you and exhaled heavily through her nose before motioning for you to come close, her lips slightly pouted the entire time.

She lifted the cup, but then paused, a worried look crossing her face. “Wait, it’s still really hot,” she said before gently blowing on the surface.

She really was the sweetest, you thought to yourself while watching the tiny ripples in the surface of the chocolatey drink, amused by the gesture.

“Here, take a small sip,” she carefully held the mug up again. “Be careful though.”

As you leaned in, she tilted the cup with utmost care, her face fully focused. Once you took a sip, you leaned back as the rich and velvety chocolate enveloped your taste buds, leaving a lingering sweetness on your tongue long after the drink went down your throat.

“How is it?” she asked eagerly, eyes full of anticipation once more.

“Almost as sweet as you,” you smiled at her.

“Is it too sweet? Should I add something to dilute it?” she looked worried without properly registering what you said.

“No,” you leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It’s actually really good.”

“Oh,” she said with a relieved smile as she took another sip. “You sure you don’t want something? The robot works now!”

“I’m fine, all I want is to be close to you,” you replied as she held the mug up for you to take another sip. “And even if it didn’t work, your kitchen is like five steps away.”

“Yeah but a robot is more fun,” Yuri giggled, putting the cup on a cute little flower coaster she had on the table and turning off the TV.

“Cuddling with you is more fun.”

“Then why aren’t you?” she teased, crossing her arms at you.

She began smiling again as you leaned into her, giving her neck a couple of light kisses before hugging her.

“Any plans tomorrow?” you asked as you kissed lower down the neckline of her shirt.

“No, I was thinking about just staying in all day.”

“I could stop by after work if you’d like,” you mumbled, kissing her neck softly while sliding a hand up the bottom of her shirt.

“When are you just going to quit your job,” Yuri sighed, adjusting slightly to give your hand easier access. “Things would be so much easier.”

“We’ve talked about this, I can’t do that,” you replied, appreciating the fact that Yuri bra was the first to go whenever she arrived home as you cupped a tit in your palm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Why not?” Yuri frowned. “I already told you I’d pay for everything, it’s really not a problem.”

“It is a problem.”

“You don’t think I could afford it?”

“I know you can afford it,” you laughed, drawing circles around her nipple with two fingers until you felt it stiffen before giving the nub a small pinch.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Yuri, baby,” you slipped your other hand up her shirt as well, giving both of her tits equal love as you gave her neck a couple of soft kisses. “I don’t even know where you got the money from.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because,” you paused to give both of her tits a firm squeeze at the same time, admiring the shape through her shirt. “For all I know, you’re like that thief from the documentary who murdered people. What if you murder me?”

“You don’t actually think I’m going to murder you,” she scoffed before casually grabbing the bottom of her shirt and lifting it up to her neck, freeing her beautiful tits for you to enjoy. “Do you?”

“No,” you muttered, eyes locked on her chest, before leaning forward and pressing her nipple between your lips, stretching it back softly. “I don’t,” you added before moving to the other one.

“Then why is it so difficult,” she sighed, absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair as you toyed with her nipples. “You know that I love you.”

“And I love you,” you replied while cupping both of her tits firmly in your palms and alternating kisses between them. “But then why can’t you tell me?”

“Because,” she hesitated, biting her lip. “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you.”

“You don’t know that,” you replied without even looking up as you pressed her tits together and ran your tongue up and down her cleavage a few times. “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Yuri giggled, pressing your head down into her chest. “Fine, I won the money in a competition.”

“What competition?” you mumbled into her tits. “And how much did you win?”

“See, you don’t believe me, just more questions.”

“Yuri,” you brought your attention back to one of her nipples, using your tongue to poke at it gently. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t want to tell me.”

“It was some silly game show. I’m really not allowed to tell people about it,” Yuri ignored your suggestion entirely. “It’s a secret, but I promise I didn’t do anything bad.”

“What, is it one of those porno ones where–” you stopped mid sentence as Yuri slapped you across the cheek. “Oh, feisty tonight are we?” you chuckled before lightly biting her nipple.

“I’m not that type of girl.”

“I know you’re not,” you let go of her nipple and tilted your neck upwards, giving her soft, plump lips a drawn out kiss. “It was just a joke.”

“I know, but still, I don’t want you thinking that I would do that even as a joke,” Yuri pouted her dewy lips.

“I’m sorry my love,” you gave her another kiss before bringing your lips back to her tits, rubbing your tongue all over them. “Alright, you won them in some secret game. Fine. And what if you run out?”

“I won’t.”

Her reply… you weren’t expecting it to hit as hard as it did. Something about her confidence, it just resonated with you through all the uncertainty, and you felt like trusting the girl without any real proof.

“Even then, I still need to work. I like my job.”

“Fine, keep the job, but when are you moving in with me?” Yuri asked as she started pulling your shirt off your body.

“I basically already live here,” you answered as the shirt came off. “I’m here every other night.”

“But I want you every night,” Yuri pouted up at you. “I want to wake up next to you every morning.”

“Soon, my love, I promise,” you leaned in to give her a kiss. “What’s the rush?”

“There’s no rush, but like you said, you basically already live here. It would just be easier.”

“Easier? Babe, I already fuck you at least once a day, how much easier do you need it to be?” you chuckled while slipping off Yuri’s skirt.

She smiled up at you with a soft expression, one that could make your heart flutter faster than anything in the world. “It could still be easier,” she whispered. She used both hands to grab the back of your neck and pull you towards her, pressing her lips softly against yours.

“I’ll think about it,” you smiled as you sat up and began unbuckling your belt. You took a glance around the room before chuckling at Yuri. “If I do, you’re going to have to clean up all these boxes.”

“I like ordering stuff…”

“I know you do, but there are actually boxes everywhere.”

“What did the boxes do to you?” Yuri argued as she watched you take off your pants. “I think they’re cute.”

“The boxes are cute?” you laughed, tossing your pants and underwear to the side and laying down next to Yuri. “You seriously are just full of all kinds of surprises.”

“Yeah, you ever thought about how maybe I might like them?” Yuri giggled as her fingers found their way between your legs. “And when I don’t have this to play with, they come in handy.”

“We’ll have to get you some better toys if you’re fucking boxes.”

“Or you could just fuck me,” Yuri whispered back. She pulled her panties off with one hand, her other gently stroking your shaft to life. “Should we head to the bedroom? We haven’t done it there in a while.”

“I literally fucked you in there yesterday.”

“Oops,” Yuri giggled before sliding off the couch and onto her knees. “Whatever, come here. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“I could fuck you on the boxes,” you suggested while swinging your legs around and sitting on the edge of the couch.

“Shut up,” Yuri grinned with her hand on your cock. She leaned down and pressed her tongue against your balls, sliding it up your shaft and ending with a kiss against your tip.

As she was about to put your cock in her mouth, she paused to hold her hands up for you. Once she had her fingers interlocked with yours on both hands, she gave your tip another kiss and locked eyes with you, squeezing your hands softly before lowering her lips down your cock.

“Oh fuck Yuri, that’s nice,” you sighed deeply, squeezing her fingers back, eyes locked on hers.

The gaze was driving you insane, fierce and confident while her mouth stretched around your cock, her cheeks hollowed in. Yuri moved up and down your cock slowly, making sure to show each inch some love. From time to time, she would lift her mouth up and take a sharp gasp of air, just to bring her mouth back down to your cock.

“I can’t get enough of this,” you groaned.

“Neither can I,” Yuri gasped in response, leaving a string of saliva between her lips and your cock. She gave it a couple of last licks before letting go of your hands. “You look ready. You taste ready.”

“For you,” you paused to grab Yuri by the face and kiss her. “Always.”

“Then what are you waiting for,” she smiled as you held her.

“Bedroom?” you suggested as you slipped a hand down between her legs. She was already wet, her pussy sticking to your fingers as you pressed down and began rubbing little circles.

“Nah, fuck it,” she moaned softly, eyes half-lidded for a moment before she grabbed your cock with both hands and began jerking you. “It doesn’t matter where.”

“Agreed,” you murmured, leaning in and kissing Yuri as she stroked your shaft, making sure to keep your fingers rubbed up against her clit. You were both ready, but you got lost in the moment, everything just felt so right. It took a lot of willpower to break out of the trance you found yourself in, but eventually you picked Yuri up and fell until your back hit the couch with Yuri on top of you. “It really doesn’t fucking matter.”

Yuri giggled softly as she took hold of your shaft again, lining it up while balancing on one knee before slowly lowering herself onto your cock. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the roof as she slowly inched her way down your length.

Once you were fully inside Yuri’s pussy, and with your hands on her hips, she slowly lifted herself back up. Each movement was slow and calculated, a moan or gasp blessed your ears every time Yuri went back down on your cock. She began to speed up, just a bit, making sure to take your entire length with each little bounce.

“Oops,” she started giggling. She accidentally moved too far up, and your cock slipped out of her. “My fault.”

“God damn you’re wet tonight,” you moaned as she rubbed your tip against her pussy.

“You like that?” she whispered while lowering herself once more onto your cock, making a little circular movement this time.

“Fucking love it,” you grunted, finally joining in and giving her a couple of soft thrusts.

“Oh fuck yes, just how I like it,” Yuri cried out softly, taking your cock expertly with her cute little tits bouncing in small circles each time you thrusted your hips up into her. “Oh baby, give it to me.”

“Fuck, Yuri,” you sighed before pulling her down against your body.

The two of you began moving your hips in tandem, with the rest of your bodies completely attached. Her warm, soft skin felt amazing, just as amazing as her pussy felt. The tighter you hugged her, the harder she squeezed back, allowing for the most beautiful intimacy to course through your veins.

A jumble of moans and gasps filled the little apartment, broken only by the sound of you kissing Yuri’s warm neck. While your hands explored her back, occasionally seeking refuge against her soft ass. Nothing in the world could feel better than this.

“I fucking love you,” Yuri cried out softly.

Turns out there was something that could feel better.

“I love you so much,” you moaned back before flipping Yuri onto her back. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” you cupped her face in your hands and kissed her before lining yourself up with her pussy again.

“Fuck,” Yuri stretched the word as far as it could go as you eased into her pussy slowly. She closed her eyes, squirming as you brought your thumb down to her clit and started rubbing gently with each soft thrust.

Your other hand gently pressed her leg to the side, letting you move closer as you fucked Yuri deep and hard. She began screaming out – music in the purest form to your ears. With how many times you’ve fucked Yuri now, you knew exactly what was happening, and you were going to make sure to ride it out with her, the love of your life.

“I… I’m… oh fuck… please.”

“Don’t talk,” you whispered softly while pressing a finger against her lip. She opened her eyes, that pleading glance, forehead scrunched up, and nodded up at you.

Or at least, it looked like a nod, her entire body was bouncing with each thrust still. With a few more deep thrusts, Yuri’s mouth shot open and her eyes shut, she began silently screaming out as her world stopped – this was your favorite part.

There it was, the glorious squeeze of Yuri’s pussy whenever she would cum. Nothing was more perfect. Without fail, you knew this was the best moment, and the perfect motivation for you to start thrusting as hard and fast as you could.

Speaking from experience, you knew how much Yuri loved this part. She claimed it felt amazing for her, which was the ultimate blessing, because it felt fucking divine for you. Her pussy squeezed your cock as hard as it could, and your brain began going numb.

A soft ringing in your ears, like when you stand up too quickly, accompanied by the most intense pleasure you have ever felt between your legs. Your cock began erupting inside Yuri’s pussy while the rest of your body spasmed in the most uncontrollable fit of pure ecstasy.

At some point, your cock slipped out of her pussy. You didn’t care to think about how or when, you just made do by grabbing your cock and stroking it over Yuri’s petite body, shooting a couple of final ropes onto her flat and adorable tummy.

“Oh my fucking God,” you moaned as you stroked whatever was left out of your cock right onto her pussy, joining the mess that was leaking out of her. “I love you so much.”

“I fucking love you,” Yuri sighed back with a smile, quickly sitting herself up and kissing you as all of your cum slowly flowed down her body.

She gave your cock a final few gentle strokes while kissing you, fondling your balls a bit between her fingers, and occasionally clawing at your tip to make a mess of the cum you had left on it. Once satisfied with the kiss, Yuri smiled warmly at you before looking down at herself.

“Ugh, I’m so fucking sticky,” Yuri whined while scooping your cum off her stomach. “I’m going to go wash up, give me a moment. We’re cuddling again after.”

“Take your time,” you breathed softly, gathering your breath. “I’ll be here.”

Yuri gave you a final quick peck on the cheek before hopping off the couch and skipping across the room. Once Yuri closed the door to her bedroom, you jumped to your feet and ran over to the coat rack. As quickly as you could, you took the little box hidden inside your jacket’s inner pocket, double checking inside to make sure the ring was still there even though you knew it was.

With the box in hand, you quietly leaned against Yuri’s bedroom door, trying to relax as the sound of her shower turning on came through the mahogany. As calmly as your throbbing heart would allow, you cleaned yourself off quickly with some wipes before putting your clothes back on.

Once dressed, you entered Yuri’s room and waited patiently until the shower turned off. Your heart was beating harder than ever now as you dropped down to one knee a few steps away from the bathroom door. You tried taking a few deep breaths, but nothing worked; eventually, you conceded to the fact that you were going to be nervous and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Babe, before I head home, there was something I had to ask,” you called out through the door.

“I thought we were going to–” Yuri began replying as she entered the room before she froze in her tracks. “What are you doing?”

“Yuri–”

“No! Are you serious?” she squealed, bringing her hands up to her mouth, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. She quickly ran up to you, nearly tripping on her towel. “Babe?!”

“Yuri,” you smiled tenderly up at her. “You are the most beautiful, amazing girl I have ever met in my life. You were my first love, and my only love. You mean the most to me in this world, and there is not a single person I could imagine spending the rest of my life with, other than you.”

Anticipation at an all time high, and hands still glued to her mouth, Yuri stared down at you wide eyed and frozen, incapable of movement.

“Jo Yuri, will you marry me?”

It was as if time stopped for a moment, the world stopped spinning, and the room around you blurred out of existence. All that was left was you, the little box in your hand, and Yuri. Then, with the weight of the entire world, Yuri lowered her hands from her mouth, and, with tears in her eyes, gave her answer.

“Yes, of course. Fucking yes, absolutely!”

Before you could even take in her response, before you could accept what she just said, you were pushed down to your back as Yuri – literally – jumped onto your body, landing with her lips pressed to yours in the best kiss you have ever had. It went on forever, seemingly. Yuri didn’t let go until she physically had to, gasping for breath and letting her tears flow down her cheeks as she looked down at you.

“Babe,” you whispered with a smile that you wouldn’t have been able to wipe off your face even if you wanted. “Try it on?”

“Oh, right,” she gasped, sitting up on her knees and holding out her hand.

She was trembling more than you’ve ever seen. You took hold of her wrist softly, giving it a comforting squeeze before bringing the ring up to her finger and sliding it on – a perfect fit.

“How do you like it?”

“Where did you get this? I’ve never seen anything like it,” Yuri gushed as she held her hand up towards the light, letting it shine against her finger. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s my great-great-grandfather’s, it got passed down my family for generations,” you explained. “I had to get it tightened and stuff, of course.”

“Wow, I love it,” Yuri muttered softly under her breath. She turned her attention away from the ring to look into your eyes. Her expression, soft as ever with little fresh tears of joy in her eyes, just made you melt. “I love you.”

Normally you’d say it back, but there was nothing you wanted more in the world right now than to kiss Yuri, your now-fiancée, on the lips. And that kiss would mark the start of new beginnings, a future, for the rest of your life, with the girl you loved – Jo Yuri.

---

A/N:

I'm just a huge liar I guess. Look, this was a fic I started writing as soon as I binged S2 of squidgame, but I wasn't able to finish it before life got busy. I was reminded of it by talking to some other writers and decided to finish it up in one night. I hope you guys still enjoy!

I know a lot of you guys have been asking and very patiently been waiting for the next Twice chapter, it's coming soon! I mentioned in my discord, but I might end up just dropping like four fics in the next couple of weeks. Dating Seraphs ch11 (once ch10 hits 1k notes maybe), Debauchery p2 (idk when, it's pretty much done already), a MiSaMo unnamed standalone of no plot all smut (probably the next release, maybe a couple days pr a week from now), and then I'll try to get the next Twice chapter out!

Love everyone's support and patience recently. I really hope my writing has been enjoyable still, I promise I'm not rushing through it. I still try to put in the effort to make it quality stuff for you guys, I just had a lot of half-finished works that I've finally come around to finishing! <3

[tsuutarr]

All of the fairies in Cot’s village have told him that he’s a workaholic with no understanding of his own limits. He usually waves them off, too focused on his potion crafting to really care about what they’re saying.

But when he falls inside your basket, he’s vividly aware of how stupid he is for ignoring his own limitations. He had flown too far to find some herbs and now he’s stuck in a human’s basket. He really doesn’t want to know what you’ll do to him, but he’s too tired to fly away.

Maybe you’ll put him in a jar. Or rip off his wings. Or feed him to your dog. Or something. Thousands and thousands of negative thoughts flood his head as he looks up at you, a mixture of wariness and exhaustion present on his face.

The last thing he expects is for you to push a few berries his way. The sweet, tantalizing scent of the berries makes Cot’s mouth water. His hunger wins over caution as he chows down on your gift. He doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so delicious. 

Once he’s done eating, Cot decides that you’re actually really, really nice. The smile on your face as you watch him eat makes his heart feel all fuzzy and warm. Your voice when you talk to him is really pretty, too.

After that, Cot begins to linger around you. At first, it’s purely to repay you! You were so nice to him, so of course he wants to pay that forward. He helps you take care of your garden and helps you clean your house, eager to please you. 

As he continues to assist you in any way he can, Cot can’t help but love spending time with you. It’s fun, it’s easy, it’s just… nice to be with you. In fact, he spends most of his time with you, making himself comfy in the dollhouse you got for him. And when he has to go back to the Fae Realm, all he can think about is you as he goes about his tasks.

He doesn’t really mind it, though. He likes thinking about you.

But then he has a thought. Maybe it’ll be better if you’re with him, always. When he sees you hanging out with your friends on his visit to the human realm, this thought spirals out of control until it becomes something dark and possessive and all-consuming.

Yeah, it really will be better if you're always with him.

He begins to gift you enchanted tea leaves from the Fae Realm, determined to slowly transform you into someone who’s more fae than human. Then, he gifts you a lovely necklace, enchanted with a piece of his magic – a piece of him. 

You gratefully accept the necklace, unaware of the enchantment on it – an enchantment to ensure that all your friends are too sick to ever spend time with you because he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And as Cot sets his plan, you’ll be none the wiser. After all, why would you ever suspect your cute, tiny fairy friend? He’s just so adorable and harmless, you know?

[seungkw1]

ring my bell  — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 

Easier said than done. 

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 

So much for running into him tomorrow. 

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 

You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it. 

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet. 

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 

“Can I help you with that?” 

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 

But your gut is telling you otherwise. 

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 

Well, only one way to find out. 

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused. 

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 

He lets out a deep sigh. 

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile. 

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 

“Would you want to do this again?” 

“Like, right now?” you reply. 

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 

“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens - pt. 4

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: pregnancy words: 1.4k

summary: lando tells yn he loves her after finding out she is pregnant

She wanted to cry. Y/N didn’t want to tell Lando about it. Not yet. She was only around 6 weeks along. Why did he have to find out now? Why didn’t Max close the door? Why wasn’t she more careful? What was she even doing here?

“Just leave, Lando!”, Y/N shouted and wanted to take it back as soon as she saw Lando wince. She pulled knees to her chest and buried her face in the fabric of her dress.

It was such a huge mistake to come to this Grand Prix. Everything went wrong in her life. She hated it.

Max stepped forward to hug his sister.

“It is alright, little one. Everything is going to be ok. Believe me. Just breathe. See, Lando isn’t yelling at you. He isn’t mad. Right, Lando?”, he said glaring at the younger man.

“No! No. Y/N. Why did you think I would be mad? You’re pregnant, right? That should make you happy. It is a baby. A little you. So don’t be scared, please.” Oh, he was so scared. He wanted to scream and wanted to throw himself out of the non-existent window. A baby? A little human? How would he take care of them?

“But. You are so busy and always travelling and we are so young. I am 22! You are not much older! How would we do that”, Y/N sobbed and was embarrassed for being this emotional. Damn hormones.

“Hey. It will all work. It is ok. We are going to be ok. We will have a baby. That’s great!”

Y/N used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears on her face.

“You really aren’t mad?”, she asked, still not really believing Lando.

“No. I really am not. I am happy. I didn’t exactly plan for any of this to happen, but it is nice. Maybe you could come over next week and we could just… talk about it? Maybe it’ll make you feel better? Were you already at the doctors to get the baby checked?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Not, yet. But I have an appointment next week. Then I will find out if the baby’s ok.”

Lando nodded and smiled so Y/N finally allowed herself to calm down. He really wasn’t mad at her for being pregnant. He looked happy.

***

“Max! You don’t understand! I got Verstappen’s sister pregnant!” Lando stared at his friend, Max Fewtrell, in front of him. “This is terrible. We were finally getting along again after he… you know… realized we did it… and now his sister is pregnant because of me!”

“I get it Lando. But you can’t do anything. It is how it is. Didn’t you say you were happy about it? You told her you were. Did you lie?” Max hissed. “Bro you cannot lie to a pregnant woman. Furthermore, you told me you like her so where is the problem?”

“Yes, but we said no feelings! So, I cannot tell her that I have liked her this whole time! But she also shouldn’t be handling the pregnancy alone! Max!”, Lando whined. “I don’t know what to do.” The brunette flopped on the couch.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. He definitely had done something wrong in his life. Why didn’t he use a condom? Why…

“Stop beating yourself up, Lando”, Max said. “This is something great. You will have a baby! And you love kids. But maybe you shouldn’t ask yourself if you want to have a baby. If you want to have Y/N as your girlfriend. You should ask yourself if you want to be a dad and a boyfriend.”

“Oh, shut up. Why are you always saying some smart shit.”

“I don’t just say smart shit, I am smart. As the older one of us I have to help you and give you advice for life.”

“You are literally 3 and a half months older… that’s nothing… Max, I really fucked up this time.” Lando buries his face in his hands and sighed. “I want to be a dad. Really. But not yet? I am not ready for this. I am practically a kid myself! I cannot take care of a literal baby.”

“Well, either that or you tell Y/N you don’t want to have a baby and risk her hating you. Your choice, Lando. But don’t decide now. Wait until you know the baby is healthy. Talk to her about your concerns. Think about it. Promise me that, Lando.” Max looked at his friend.

“I will, I promise.”

***

Only an hour later Lando was standing in front of Y/N’s door. He really wanted to wait until next week but just couldn’t. He had to talk to her.

He knocked and only a couple seconds later the door opened, and Y/N was standing in front of him.

“Lando? What are you doing here? It is literally midnight!”

“I am sorry. But I had to talk to you because I talked to Max. Not you brother Max the other Max. My Max. And I want to be there for the baby. And I have feelings for you and I was so scared of telling you because I know we said no feelings involved but they are involved and I wanna be there for you and the baby when it is born and I know I shouldn’t be here at midnight telling you all that because I am probably just sleep deprived or so but. I love you, Y/N.” As soon as he finished talking, Lando took a deep breath and held it, waiting for Y/N to say something.

“That… was a lot”, Y/N finally said. “But I like you too, Lando. From the first time I saw you with those ridiculously good-looking curls and those blue eyes. I would love if you were involved in mine and the baby’s life.”

Lando just stared at Y/N and couldn’t really believe it yet.

“You… you like me too?”, he asked. He would have though Y/N would call him crazy and that she would say she didn’t like him at all, but he definitely didn’t expect this here to happen.

“I do. And you are an idiot if you haven’t noticed it yet.” Y/N said and smiled a little.

“Oh.”

“So… I have the doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? Just making sure the baby is ok. I could use someone to talk to in the waiting room.”

Lando nodded. In that moment he was sure he was the happiest person on earth.

“Do you… no forget it”, Y/N started.

“Do I what? Tell me! You can’t start a sentence like that and then keep me hanging. Tell me!”

Y/N took a deep breath.

“Doyouwannastayherewithme.” Lando stared at her as if she was crazy. What the fuck did she just say? That was too fast for his brain at midnight.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stay here? With me?”

Lando grinned and nodded.

“Yes! Of course. If it is really ok with you.?”

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up with Lando’s arm around her waist. It was warm and she couldn’t help but notice how different it was to wake up next to him, knowing they didn’t fuck last night.

“Morning”, she mumbled sleepily. “We have to get up to go to the appointment.”

The man next to her just groaned.

“Too early.”

“No, sleepyhead. It is already 11 am. Get up.”

Eventually Lando got up and went to the bathroom and only an hour later they were at the doctor’s office.

The doctor was very nice, and Y/N could swear that the nurse recognized Lando but didn’t say anything.

“So, let’s take a look at the baby”, the doctor said as she poured some gel for the ultrasound on Y/N’s abdomen. She placed the probe on it and looked at the monitor.

Then she moved the monitor so Y/N and Lando could both look at it. She pointed on a few grey, black and white areas to explain some stuff.

“And here we see Baby A”, she pointed to another grey blotch. “And there we have Baby B. Both perfectly healthy.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Twins…?”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes, you two will have twins. Congratulations!”

A/N: yes i did just post that on the wrong acc… but here we go sorry it took so long to write this! if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist pls tell me bc i don’t know who only wanted to be tagged for this series and who for all the other stuff i will write as well so you will be tagged for everything i will write (sorry i am too chaotic for this world)

taglist:

@strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @I-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss

[asxgard]

Companionship | pt. 13

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: You score tickets to a Penguins game for Michael’s birthday — but you have more than one way to celebrate in mind.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: I can’t always answer all of your lovely comments or reblogs, but thank you all so much!! I appreciate all the interactions you guys give this series💜

I’m sorry this wasn’t out yesterday! I got a migraine at work and then it just wouldn’t go away all day. It proceeded to stick around for a good chunk of this morning as well lol

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: age gap, foul language, violence at a hockey game, birthday blowjob (oral, m! receiving), pet names (sweetheart, honey)

not beta read

How you had been able to save enough money to afford the tickets really was beyond you. When Michael picked up your utility bill, you put the money you would have spent and put it into savings. You were then able to buy the tickets for the Penguins vs. Predators game at the PPG Paints Arena after saving for nearly two months.

“So…your birthday is coming up.” You ventured one night, rubbing a thumb into your palm.

He half groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, “Don’t remind me.”

“So that’s a no to your gift then?”

His interest piqued, looking back over at you, eyebrow raised. “You got me something?”

You pulled the card out of your bag, “It’s a little early…but you’ll understand why in a moment.”

The card was quaint, with your sprawled handwriting with his name on the front. You hadn’t gotten physical tickets, so the inside of the card was empty, except for the heartfelt little note you had written. Then at the bottom was: you are now two Penguins vs. Predators tickets richer!

Michael read over the note a few more times, before looking back up at you and blinking. He brought a hand to the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything.” He said, still holding onto you.

“I wanted to.” You smiled and gave him a quick peck. “Not sure if you want to take Jack, or Jake maybe, but I wanted to give you enough notice in case you needed to take time.”

He scoffed like he was offended, “I’m taking you.”

Your smile grew, “Yeah?”

“Of course I’m gonna take you, sweetheart.” He said, kissing you again. “This was really nice of you, thank you.”

Your cheeks warmed, “Sorry I couldn’t do more. Once I’m a CPA—”

“None of that. This is a great gift and I’m looking forward to spending time with you.”

You nodded, taking in his genuine smile.

“I would like you to meet them. Jack and Jake, I mean. And a few other people from the hospital, in a more official manner than showing up for stitches.”

You smiled at him, but anxiety filled your chest at the thought. Jake was his surrogate step-son, and had been in Michael’s life since he was just a kid — you worried over the fact that you were much closer to Jake’s age. You wondered if he was the judgmental sort. And Jack. From everything you had heard about him, he was not likely to sugarcoat anything — if he didn’t like you, you’d know about it.

“I’d like to meet them.” You said, twisting your hands together.

As if sensing your unease, he kissed the side of your head. “They’ll love you.”

“I’m sure it’ll be nice to put all those rumors to rest.” You smirked, thinking back to how everyone hovered both times you had been at the hospital.

He chuckled, “All the people who need to know do now.”

Your face heated, thinking that you had done the same.

You swung your legs into his lap and cuddled close to him, “Good, I did too.”

—

The trek to Saturday was a busy one, hardly having time for each other. When Michael was working, you were studying, and when you were working, he was trying to occupy himself with mundane chores. By Wednesday night, he had showed up on your doorstep with takeout and a smile. You had thrown the door open and crashed your lips together, giggling and saying, “I missed you.”

You found a Penguins t-shirt in the back of your closet to wear for the occasion, slipping on a simple pair of jeans and your favorite sneakers.

You arrived at Michael's apartment with coffee and bagels — set to spend the majority of your day there while you waited for gametime. You lounged around and watched shitty tv reruns, and it was a welcomed lazy few hours for the both of you. Stolen kisses that left you wanting more, and soft touches that made you want to throw your plans out the window.

You ate dinner at a bar near the arena, excitement brewing at being to your first hockey game.

“I don’t wanna jinx it, so I’m just going to hope we have an enjoyable game.” You said, sipping your drink.

Michael chuckled, “Cheers to that.”

The arena was not overly packed, but it felt crowded navigating through the halls and to your seats. You had paid for decent seats, in the last row of the first floor, on one corner near the home bench.

Michael kissed you softly, “These are great seats.”

You beamed at him, and intertwined your fingers. He brought your hand up to kiss the back of it.

At puck drop, you traded conversation over predictions, and hoots and hollers at your favorite players. You laughed and held onto each other when the other team got too close to scoring. You cheered when the Penguins scored their first goal, standing with your hands in the air. You held your breath every time a fight broke out, squeezing Michael’s hand. And you enjoyed the way he knew the game well enough to make calls before the referee’s did — announcing “icing!” or “offside!” before the whistle blew.

During the first intermission, you went together to get a beer before heading back to your seats. The crowd around you was rowdy, but not uncomfortably so. You were enjoying the atmosphere.

Second period came with a few idiotic calls from the referee’s, but also another point for the Penguins. You cheered loud enough you feared you would lose your voice, and Michael watched you affectionately.

In the second intermission, you wandered off to get cheesy fries while Michael got another beer, and you met back at your seats. You were bouncing on your heels in excitement, though did not dare to utter the W word, in fear of jinxing it.

During the third period, the Penguins scored another goal toward the latter half.

“This has been the best game,” You laughed, munching on a cheese fry.

Michael pulled you in close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He kissed your head.

By the time the buzzer sounded, the Penguins had won in a 3-0 shutout game against the Predators. You gave a relieved laugh, as you had been standing on your feet for the last minute of the game when the Predators had gotten too close. On your way out, you asked a random couple to take your picture.

You added the photo to your favorites on your way out, taking in Michael’s smile, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his other hand in his pocket. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach.

You looked over to him with the widest smile, admiring how handsome he was.

“Something on my face?”

“No,” you said, heat blooming in your cheeks. “Can’t a girl take in the view?”

He grinned softly, making his smile lines crinkle. He brought a hand to cradle your face, rubbing a thumb across your cheek. His eyes flickered between your eyes, and your heart started racing. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, leaning down to kiss you instead.

You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to savor it for as long as you could.

When you returned to his apartment, adrenaline filled your senses, suddenly having the urge to get on your knees for him — half desperate to taste him, half addicted to the sounds he made when he was enjoying himself.

“It’s late…you should stay over.” Michael said in his dim living room, the one side table lamp being the only thing illuminating the room.

“I didn’t bring anything.” You said, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“I’ve got plenty of things that’ll fit.”

Your smile widened into a grin, heart racing at the thought of wearing his clothes. You pulled him down for a kiss, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth. His tongue entered your mouth and you hummed against him.

Something bubbled in your stomach at the feeling of him getting hard, and your thoughts spiraled downward. You moved a hand to the waist of his jeans, pulling at the button until it unbuttoned. Michael’s breathing hitched, bringing both hands to either side of your head and kissing you fiercely.

As the zipper lowered, so did you, getting onto your knees and looking up at him.

He stared down at you, shoulders moving up and down with his breathing, face half shadowed. Though his brown eyes pooled desire low in your belly.

You pulled down his jeans to his knees, running your hand over his length through his boxers, watching as his eyes flickered closed. When you pulled them down, he opened them again, looking down at you with half concealed desire.

“You don’t have to—” he choked on his words when you grabbed hold of him, your hot breath on his tip.

You wet your lips, “I really really want to.”

He cursed lowly, running a hand through his hair, “Fuck, okay, honey.”

You licked tentatively along the head, and you noticed how his stomach quickly clenched and unclenched. Your smile was hard to hide. You took him into your mouth, tongue swirling along the tip before you descended deeper.

Michael let out a low groan from the back of his throat, head pointing up at the ceiling. HIs hand found the back of your head, not pushing, but simply holding you.

You took him until his cock hit the back of your throat and tears quickly gathered. You set a slow pace, using your hand to pick up the slack closer to his base, unable to take the full thing into your mouth. You moved your other hand to cup his balls and he moaned.

Your pussy pulsed at the sound of it, feeling yourself grow wet. You looked up at him through your lashes, and he was watching you intently, eyebrows drawn in.

“So beautiful, sweetheart. Fuck.”

You hummed around him at his words, and his apartment was filled with the sound of his quiet moans and grunts while you unraveled him. You took him deeply again, trying not to gag, flattening your tongue to apply pressure upwards while you hallowed out your cheeks.

“If you keep that up—fuck—I’m going to come down that pretty throat of yours.” He warned, though his voice sounded wrecked.

You looked up at him and didn’t stop, easily saying that that was exactly what you wanted.

He let out a few pants, one hand going to his neck, while his body tensed. You could feel that he was trying not to thrust into your wanting mouth. You ran a finger over his balls still in your hand and picked up your pace.

Michael came with a low groan, eyes squeezing shut, and you took it all. You swallowed his spend until he was twitching from overstimulation. You let go with a wet pop, which made him jolt. He quickly pulled you up in a kiss.

“Yeah, I need you in my clothes right now.”

You met his eyes, noses touching, and you smirked. “You gonna make me, handsome?”

A sly smile grew as he pulled up his pants, “I can certainly do that.”

He chased you into his room, your laugh echoing off the walls.

[ Next ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Companionship taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @clementine111002 @virgomillie @emily-b @kaygilles @lt-jakeseresin @imonmykneessir @kniselle @gabsgabsvaz @rosiepoise88 @calivia @holdonimwalkingmysnail @valhallavalkyrie9 @blahkateisdone @shadowhuntyi @fuckalrighty @elli3williams @yournerdmodziata @i-know-i-can @dickheadturner @dcgoddess @pittobsessed @glamorizethechaos @blueb33ry-cat @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @burningpenguinwitch @evienorville @equallyshaw @heyysolsister @justrandomthougt @babygirlagenda @lauracantsleep @rogersbarnesxx @longlivecandice @misshoneypaper

Dr. Robby taglist: @cherriready @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama @hagarsays @mayabbot @anakingreys @happyfox43 @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @girl-obsessed-with-things @laurenkate79 @woodxtock @rosie-posie08

(50 tags have been reached with the combo of all three taglists, so unfortunately some of Dr. Robby & all of The Pitt taglist for this series will be added in a reblog right after this is posted - I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience!)

three parts to go + the epilogue😭

[moonstruckme]

oh my gosh ¹⁴⁾ trying to cope with a fever during a heatwave with poly wolfstar sounds like the ultimate summer comfort fic 💕 remus would be so good at taking care of u, and sirius would be soooo dramatic in solidarity 💖🌸

Thanks lovely <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 713 words

Remus comes home from work to find your flat a cave. There are signs of life in the living room, displaced pillows and a blanket looking cast aside, but your home is eerily silent. He discovers the cause in your bedroom: you and Sirius, looking like you never left bed in the first place. 

Every curtain is pulled shut, but some daylight prevails, casting the two of you in shades of grey where you lay in your pajamas atop the bedsheets. You’re spread out in every direction, clearly asleep, whereas Sirius seems to be occupying himself simply with looking at you. He glances up as Remus enters. 

“Hi,” Remus whispers. “When did you get home?” 

“Never left,” Sirius replies softly. He nods to you, taking a piece of your hair idly between his fingers. “She’s sick.” 

A quiet, doting, oh drops from Remus’ lips. He sets down his bag and comes to the edge of the bed. “With what? Since this morning?” 

Sirius nods as Remus eases himself onto the mattress beside you. There’s a flannel laid across your forehead. “She said she wasn’t feeling well when she woke up, just after you left. Seems like a cold or something. Wicked fever, though.” 

You shift a bit, their voices evidently causing you to rouse. Remus takes the opportunity to lift the flannel, lying the backs of his fingers across your brow. You are terribly warm. 

Your eyes open lazily. “Hey,” you mumble. 

Remus can’t help but smile. “Hi.” 

“Did you…” You stretch, groaning. “Is work done already? How was your day?” 

His chest aches with fondness. “It was good, sweetheart. What about you? You’re not feeling well?” 

Your lips pull down into a frown. Remus represses a cooish, pitying sound he knows you’ll hate. “My head hurts.” 

He tuts. “We’ll have to do something about that, then.” 

“We have,” Sirius chimes in. He sounds slightly offended. “Exhibit A: warm flannel.” 

“Right.” Remus leans over you to give him a kiss, conciliating. “Thank you, love. What about paracetamol?” 

Sirius hums proudly. “Had it.” 

“Perfect.” Remus takes the flannel from your head, smoothing away some damp baby hairs. “I think we’ll probably trade this out for a cooler one until our temperature comes down, alright?” 

Sirius frowns at this, but you sigh, shifting again like you’re trying to find a cool inch of bedspace. 

“I’m really hot,” you admit. 

“Aw, baby, we know.” Sirius takes your hand, kissing the back. “Good that you’re getting wise to it, though. We bemoan how hot you are all the time.” 

That coaxes a tired smile out of you. Remus has to imagine you really are sweltering. This time of day in the summer, your un-air-conditioned flat is usually at its warmest; it’ll take a few hours to cool off, and the effects are undoubtedly worse when you’re already suffering a fever. 

Remus feels along your face and the back of your neck contemplatively while Sirius coos at you. You seem in a strange enough mood to indulge him, the two of you going back and forth in low, murmuring tones. Remus knows his hands aren’t cold, but you act as though they are. You sigh quietly each time he moves his touch to a new place. 

“How would you feel about having a cold bath?” he asks after a while. 

You look up at him, your eyebrows raised slightly. “That actually sounds kind of nice.” 

Sirius hisses through his teeth. “Yikes, babe. That’s how you know it’s really bad.” 

Remus hides a smile. “Maybe Sirius will even get in there with you, yeah? Would that be nice?” 

“Oh.” You’re well aware of Remus’ game, but you play along, turning your eyes up to your other boyfriend sweetly. “That would be really nice. Would you, please?” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You’re both terribly, undeservedly cruel to me,” he says, looking between you. “But if it’ll actually make you feel better, I’ll do it.” 

“Awe.” Your lips stretch into a syrupy smile as you roll over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “That’s so sweet. Thank you, baby.” 

Sirius pats your back, a smug uptilt to his mouth. “Yeah, well, I’m a giver.” But after a moment his brows furrow, the smirk slipping. “Does this mean you do want me to?”

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [5] - Bad Optics

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 Please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Crushes can happen out of nowhere.

Warnings: Explicit language, drinking.

Word Count: 3300

Series Masterlist

Fine, maybe people were right.

Maybe you were a workaholic who couldn’t stay away from her phone for five seconds without going full on Gollum without the ring but in your defense, the elections were very close so you had to be in total control.

“What do you mean we don’t know where Bucky is?” you asked as you held the phone to your ear, frowning at your reflection in the mirror as someone entered the bathroom and started refreshing her lipstick, the chatter from the bar reaching the bathroom. “The guy is a super soldier who is running for congress. We’re his campaign staff, one of us is supposed to know.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kelsey said. “He had a meeting, but then he texted me to tell me not to wait up so I came home.”

“Are we sure he’s not off to save people somewhere in the city?”

“I already checked everywhere, no one is getting attacked as far as I know.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Are we—are we sure he’s safe?”

“As you said, the guy is a super soldier,” Kelsey replied. “I’m sure he’s fine. How’s the dinner going with the boyfriend’s firm?”

You heaved a sigh and leaned your back to the wall as the girl left the bathroom.

“Well, it’s not my crowd,” you muttered. “They seem nice enough though.”

“That’s good,” she said. “Hey, me and Caleb and the rest of the team are gonna go to the usual place in like an hour, if you’re done by then, you should come.”

You made a face.

“I’d love to but I doubt it’ll be over by then,” you said. “Maybe we can drop by if you guys are still out when we leave.”

“That works.”

“Gotta go Kels,” you said. “Talk to you later.”

“Have fun!” she said and you hung up, then took a deep breath, checked your reflection in the mirror and walked out of the bathroom to join the group by the bar.

Max was talking to his friends by the corner, laughing loudly at a joke and you bit inside your cheek, then motioned at the bartender for a drink. You typed in a quick text to Bucky before opening the email that Caleb sent you, but your head shot up when someone cleared their throat.

“Hi!” you said with a bright smile when you saw one of Max’s coworkers and she smiled back at you.

“Hey,” she said and offered her hand. “Tessa.”

You introduced yourself, shaking her hand and thanked the bartender when he brought you your drink before turning to her again.

“You look kind of tense,” Tessa said. “I hope it’s not us.”

“Oh no, not at all!” you said. “Sorry about that, I’m just one of those people who look like they have the stress level of a nervous chihuahua. I’m actually having fun.”

“You sure? It can be a bit boring, I know all we do is talk about work.”

You waved a hand in the air. “I know how it is, no worries.”

“Your boy is doing well lately,” Tessa said and you nodded your head fervently, your heart skipping a beat at the mention of Bucky.

“Oh I know, his poll numbers are so good,” you said, your smile widening. “He might not want to use the superhero thing but people aren’t blind.”

Tessa raised her brows. “…I meant Max.”

Right.

Right, Max was your boy.

Friend.

Boyfriend.

“Fuck, sorry,” you said with a nervous laugh and held up your phone. “Still in the work mode.”

“Don’t I know it,” she said and snapped her fingers. “Oh you work for Bucky Barnes! Max mentioned it. It’s quite impressive.”

“Thank you.” You took a sip of your drink. “It’s a bit chaotic but I like it.”

“Well, tell him he has my vote.” Tessa winked at you. “I have zero idea about any of his policies, but he’s hot as fuck.”

You let out a giggle.

“I know you won’t believe this, but a significant number of his voters have the same approach as you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, it’s on a report—” You were cut off when your phone started buzzing and you touched the screen to see the multiple people writing on your group chat. You scrolled up to click on the link Caleb sent, your heart dropping to your stomach when you saw the post.

It was a gossip blog, not different than millions of others on the social media. Even if the photo was a little blurry, you could still recognize Bucky and Hazel Brooks, the famous CEO of the nonprofit he’d had multiple meetings with last month and this week. She was standing very close to him, close enough to kiss him while he smiled down at her, and as the caption underneath said, it was right outside the restaurant they had their—

Their date in.

Oh.

You could swear someone was twisting your heart inside your chest. You swallowed thickly, still staring at the picture as if it could explain what was happening to you, trying your hardest to ignore the burning in your eyes.

Hazel Brooks was just perfect.

She was pretty, she was successful, she had her own nonprofit that she used to actually help people, and people in business adored her. Of course Bucky would like her, of course he would want to date her after a mere business meeting, of course—

Tessa touched your arm. “Everything okay?”

Your throat tightened but you blinked back the tears and lifted your head to smile at her.

“Yeah!” you managed to say. “Just uh, just a work thing.”

What the fuck was happening?

You couldn’t burst into tears just because Bucky was with a hot CEO, that had nothing to do with you. You were in a relationship, you were in the business dinner of the said relationship, but somehow, that did nothing to ease the pain.

“You sure?” Tessa asked. “You seem a bit—”

“Hey babe!” Max’s voice cut her off as he threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you close to him. “Having fun with Tess?”

You bit inside your cheek hard enough to hurt, then downed your drink.

“Yeah.”

“Me and the boys will do shots, wanna join?”

Pull. Your. Shit. Together.

“Sure,” you rasped out. “That sounds amazing.”

                                    *

This was not pulling your shit together.

This was the opposite.

After you and Max had left the dinner party, you had told him you’d have to meet Kelsey for a quick work thing and thankfully, Max had told you he was too tired so he would go to bed, so here you were.

At this point, you might as well have changed your surname into Goldberg if you were going to stare at people’s homes like a goddamn creep, but knowing that it was creepy did nothing to make you walk away. You had drunk a lot, and even with your high tolerance, it was enough to give you some liquid courage.

Hence where you were now.

Outside Bucky’s place.

In your defense, the place where Kelsey and the rest of the team were drinking was close to his place, and you had originally planned to join them—you were going to join them right after talking to Bucky.

Because this was unacceptable.

You chewed the gum in your mouth vigorously before throwing it in the trash can and wiped at your eyes, then made your way to his door. If you were a bit more sober, you would’ve actually come up with a speech to explain to him why going on a date out of nowhere when the elections were this close was both unacceptable and unprofessional, not to mention rude, but you figured you could just wing it, so you raised your fist and knocked on the door, then wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and stepped back, listening to the footsteps coming closer.

And then the door opened.

Fuck.

Fuck, alright, you really should’ve thought this through.

He looked way too hot. His hair was tousled, the first couple buttons on his white shirt undone, his piercing blue eyes gleaming under the dim light.

“Birdie?”

You gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath.

“Well hello there Casanova,” you said and held up the phone so that he could see the post. “Fun night?”

He frowned. “What—”

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You didn’t think to let me know about this whole thing before hard launching your girlfriend?”

“I’m not launching anything,” he said, confusion clear in his tone. “Who posted this?”

“Some gossip account, who the fuck cares?” you snapped. “This is going to affect the polls, you do realize that?”

“How? I’m not auditioning for The Bachelor, I’m running for congress.”

You tilted your head, momentarily distracted. “You watch The Bachelor?”

“No, Caleb made the same joke the other day.”

“Well, either way!” you said through your teeth. “A huge number of your voters want to fuck you, surprise surprise! This is so thoughtless of you, like, are you okay? Have you lost your mind?”

He looked over his shoulder, then pulled the door close behind him.

 “We didn’t even do a background check, or social media check, oh my God, there are one thousand things that could go wrong, and you decided to go on a date? Without letting me—letting anyone in your team know? You can’t just pull this shit!”

He raised his brows, watching you in silence.

“Do you have any idea how it’s going to affect things?” you asked. “No. No, you don’t, because if—I get that she’s pretty, okay? Anyone can see that she’s pretty, and fine, she’s very smart and very successful, it doesn’t mean you can just go on dates, there are things to consider before. She has actual pull in the business world, we’re trying to get all the nonprofits on that list I made on our side, and you decided going on a date with her was more important? Is that what’s happening?”

Bucky’s voice was frustratingly calm when he spoke; “Are you done?”

“Stop treating me like, like—” you stammered. “Like I’m a fucking hysterical housewife from the 1940s, I’m doing my—”

“How’s Max?”

That had the same effect of someone pouring a bucket of ice cold water on you and you stopped talking, your eyes snapping up to his.

“The guy you’re so in love with?” Bucky asked, his piercing gaze locked in yours. “As you kept telling me? How is he?”

Your lips pulled into a pout as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Whatever you’re insinuating…”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” Bucky cut you off. “Are you insinuating something?”

You shook your head fervently. “No.”

“Great. We’re both clear then.”

You nibbled on your lip, your mind going overdrive.

“Well, is it—” You paused, a nervous laugh climbing your throat. “You and her, is it serious or something?”

Before he could answer, the door opened behind him.

“Bucky, what’s taking so long—oh, hi there.”

Great.

Miss Brooks.

She looked from you to him and leaned on Bucky’s strong figure while you took a step back, forcing yourself to pull your gaze off Bucky before plastering a smile on your face.

“Hi Miss Brooks,” you said, your voice completely professional. “Sorry about this. I um—I work for Mr. Barnes and we needed his confirmation on this new draft we’re preparing, and we—we couldn’t reach him.” You motioned at the street vaguely. “Me and the rest of the team are drinking right around the corner, so I figured I’d come by to check.”

She hissed in a breath.

“Ah, my apologies,” she said with a small grin. “That one is my fault, I may have been keeping him busy.”

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

You’re not a fucking schoolgirl with a crush, keep it together.

You blinked fast so that you could stop the tears before they could reach your eyes, the bridge of your nose tingling.

“Right,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Thank you for the confirmation, Mr. Barnes. I was confused before but now everything is crystal clear.”

His jaw tightened. “Birdie…”

“I apologize for the interruption,” you said, taking another step back. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

 With that, you turned around and walked away from them, still holding your phone tight in one hand while rubbing your eyes with the other.

                                         *

Thankfully, the team was still out drinking. They were lost in their happy chatter, which was good for you because Caleb and Kelsey had pulled you to a different table the moment they saw the look on your face, so no one else could pay attention to the conversation your table was having while the occasional roars of laughter rose from theirs.

“Fuck,” Caleb commented as the waitress brought your drinks and took the empty glasses away. “Why didn’t you say anything, Birdie?”

“Because it was supposed to go away,” you said, sniffling. “I mean for God’s sake, he’s my boss and…ugh, I’m so sorry Kels.”

Kelsey tilted her head. “Why?”

“I know you also have a crush on him—”

“Whoa!” Kelsey cut you off. “Pump the breaks. First of all, I never said a crush, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

“Which is something you have in common with everyone in this bar,” Caleb added and Kelsey nodded.

“Second of all, I stopped wanting to fuck him the minute you told me about your crush. From now on in my eyes, he’s like a catholic priest. Or a nun. Or like, one of those monks— whichever is not allowed to fuck, I don’t know.”

“I think none of them are allowed to fuck.”

“Yeah, so there you go Birdie. You can have him.”

You sniffled again and wiped your nose with the tissue. “You’re such a good friend.”

“I know right? I’m amazing,” she mused. “I’ll just find myself a hot guy when we’re in DC, preferably from Capitol Hill.”

“I can’t wait until we’re all in DC,” Caleb stated. “I’m so over the dating scene in New York.”

You rubbed your eyes.

“How do I have a crush on him?” you asked. “I’m not allowed to have a crush on him. He’s my boss, and I have a boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend is one way to describe…” Caleb waved a hand in the air as if trying to find his name and Kelsey raised her brows.

“Max,” she said. “You know what his name is, Caleb.”

“I decided to keep his name in my mind for the same length of time he spends fucking her, so like five minutes.”

 “It’s because he read that Reddit post,” you said, your voice going high pitched as you dabbed at your eyes with the tissue. “Apparently his tech bro idol spends only five minutes having sex so that he can work more and—”

“I am literally begging you to dump him.”

“I listen to so much Lana Del Rey now!” You hiccupped. “Did I tell you guys that? I ordered all her albums on vinyl!”

“Bucky is over 100 years old,” Caleb said. “I think that kind of age gap would make even Lana cry.”

Kelsey slurped on her cocktail.

“Hypothetically,” she said and pointed at the door. “Let’s say Bucky and Pedro Pascal walked right through that door—”

“Keep Pedro Pascal out of this, Kels.”

“I’m trying to prove something,” she insisted. “They both proclaimed their undying love for you. Who would you go for?”

You thought for a moment, then another sob escaped your mouth as you buried your face into the tissue, making Caleb hiss in a breath while Kelsey rubbed your back.

“Shit, it’s that big of a crush, huh?”

“I don’t understand how this happened!” you said through the sobs and sniffled, then took another sip of your cocktail. “There has to be something I can do to stop it.”

“I doubt it.”

“No no, we’re his political campaign staff,” you said and sat up straighter to pull yourself together. “We know everything about him, right? There has to be something there that’ll make me—make me not want to kiss him under the moonlight to an Ella Fitzgerald song.”

That made Caleb and Kelsey fall into silence in deep though before Kelsey shrugged her shoulders.

“Just off the top of my head, he killed Howard and Maria Stark.”

 “Yeah I mean, technically,” you murmured. “But in his defense, he was being controlled by HYDRA.”

Caleb cleared his throat.

“I feel like we did such a good job with his PR that we also tend to overlook a couple of things about his past,” he said. “But the guy did kill JFK.”

“To repeat, HYDRA killed JFK—that’s not going to work.” You shook your head. “I need something personal. Like he secretly listens to terrible podcasts or…”

“Bucky doesn’t know what a podcast is,” Kelsey stated. “I once asked if he’d want to be a guest on a political one because they contacted me, and I had to explain what it was, and he just stared at me and went like; ‘You guys reinvented the radio?’”

“He really does want to be a guest on a radio show though,” Caleb said and pulled up his phone to take a note. “We should look into that, he was kind of excited when I mentioned it today. Must be an old dream of his.”

“Could work on the elderly voters if he mentions it during the program—”

“Guys, focus.”

“Right, back to the mission at hand,” Caleb said clapping his hands together. “Uh, maybe he’s bad at sex.”

“Oh really?” Kelsey asked with a grin. “You think the super soldier with super strength is bad at sex?”

“It’s possible,” Caleb insisted. “People in the 1940s only knew what, two sex positions?”

“Is that why my grandmother had like ten children?”

“Your grandmother’s high libido is not relevant to this conversation.”

“Ew, never use grandmother and libido in the same sentence ever—”

“Guys!” you exclaimed to stop their bickering. “Bucky’s bad attributes. Come on, can’t be that hard to find.”

“His cat is an asshole.”

Both you and Kelsey gasped.

“Caleb, Alpine is a precious princess, take that back!”

“She once scratched me because I wanted to pet her!”

“You can’t just pet a cat because you want to,” you insisted. “The cat is supposed to want that, not you.”

“Hence why I’m not a cat person.”

You groaned and leaned back in your chair, throwing your head back.

“I’m sitting here thinking about his stupid smile while he’s having sex with Hazel fucking Brooks,” you mumbled. “And while my boyfriend is waiting for me at home. I—I’m such a terrible person.”

“You’re not a terrible person.”

“Yes, I am,” you insisted. “I’m here, openly lusting after my boss while I’m in a relationship.” You motioned in the direction of his house. “While he’s probably starting a relationship.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Bucky doesn’t just sleep around,” you said with a bitter laugh. “And either way, I’m with Max so I’m not supposed to care about it.”

“If you weren’t—”

“Even if I weren’t with Max, Bucky would never look my way,” you murmured. “He doesn’t see me like that.”

Kelsey reached out to squeeze your hand in an assuring manner while you downed your cocktail.

“Birdie...”

You wiped your eyes and cleared your throat, then tried to smile. “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice unconvincing even to your own ears. “It’s just a stupid crush, guys. I’ll be okay.”

Chapter 6

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STELLIUM IN THE FIRST HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, get a nice haircut, get to know your approach to life more, get to know your direction in life and what may be the next step for you, it’ll be a year of self discovery journey, and it’s the best year to work on your approach of life, you should focus more on your style, see what suits you and what doesn’t, work on your self concept and build your confidence and also it’s the greatest time to find your passion!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Becoming aggressive, moody or be hard on yourself, becoming critical/judgmental of others and yourself!, not taking care of yourself, shy away from spotlight don’t hesitate to!, becoming way too self centered and thinking that people reactions are because something you’ve done!.

STELLIUM IN THE SECOND HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Buy new makeup, perfumes, work on your self worth, start investing money I don’t care even if you have saturn on the 2nd house start a business and earn from it!, since it’s a saving year indicator, one where you look for more stability and comfort, take care of your finances and learn more about how money works!, learn to manage your money right and spend it wisely, become strict!, it’s really good time to start giving old things in order to welcome new ones, like old clothes or possessions, since you may have this urge to keep buying new things, and in order to keep balance learn to donate your stuff, good karma and do that especially if you have saturn!, start singing loudly too it’ll be healing!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Spend wisely so that you don’t cry at the end of the year, don’t waste the opportunity and reconsider you values, set firm boundaries and goals, also don’t waste time and truly buy stuff you only need!, never put your emotional health and security second place, care more about your feelings!.

STELLIUM IN THE THIRD HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Whenever you feel anxious journal, or go on a car ride even if you don’t have a car, call a cab or go on a bus and put your headphones on, but it’s an amazing time to work on how you introduce yourself, or in other words practice how to talk your mind, communicate with people, and how to share your opinions properly!. it’s a great year to learn about the law of assumption, get closer to your siblings or your neighbors, you can buy a new cell phone, get lots of phone calls and even do lots of social activity or finish high school!, if you suck at maths that year is pretty good to learn the basics again and educate yourself on it, also go on short trips find new interests and start a social media account.

WHAT TO AVOID:

DO. NOT. OVERSHARE. learn how to shut up when needed and i know you’ll have an urge to talk to no end but please shut up!, also don’t indulge yourself into gossip it’ll end up being so messy, try to stop overthinking and don’t believe any rumor you hear!, also take care of your siblings!.

STELLIUM IN THE FOURTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

great time to go back to your roots, aka work on your family trauma or stuck issues with your family and heal from them!, you may start a new family, become a parent, settle down, buy a new apartment or move from your home, so to have a fresh it’s okay to forgive them!, heal your inner child and read more about such topics, focus on your emotional needs and understand yourself more, if you’re a fem then lean into it more, get closer to your mother, decorate your room, also it’s a great time to buy properties and invest or learn cooking and baking yummy yummy!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

getting into fights with your parents because they’ll get on your nerves alot!, so for your mental health pay them no mind!, don’t keep your place messy.

STELLIUM IN THE FIFTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

EVERYTHING, i love love loveee this placement and not just for the romance nuh uh, as a woman who doesn’t even date I’ve had the most fun on year i had 5th house placements, go to concerts, festivals and arcades, party and enjoy your life really, you won’t feel like you wasted your money on these things trust me, go to an art course, go to movie theater!, just go out and don’t stay at home!, also enjoy your talents and get ready for the spotlight!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

hookups, unprotected sex since it might lead to sudden pregnancies, getting lost at new places, getting a bit over the head, be careful of becoming narcissistic or kinda full of yourself!, also choose your romance partner carefully don’t rush into love, because you’ll see the world in heart tainted sunglasses this year!.

STELLIUM IN THE SIXTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Think about getting a glow up, it’s the best time for self improvement, plan a routine and follow it, even if you found it hard to build one before it’ll feel easier this year to stick to it!, greatest time to start a series of new habits, work on your body and focus on your health, try building muscles, bulking, going to the gym or walking more, try to journal, read frequently and heal your skin, do some skin care, also get your body checked, get along with your coworkers and focus more on how to make the best out of your job!, routine will never fail you oh and maybe get a pet too!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Avoid over stressing/overtiring yourself, ignore your health or hygiene, avoid going into fights with your coworkers, beware of becoming a people pleaser or give more than you take to others, beware of stray animals, don’t go on a very strict diet especially if you have pluto on the 6th house!.

STELLIUM IN THE SEVENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

start a business with others, or start your own business, go for that lawsuit, look for that long term partner or take the step for up leveling your current relationship. Incase of getting married enjoy the process of this new era!, it’s the best time to test your partner and see if they’re worthy enough of you!, also enjoy the feeling of becoming extra attractive!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Beware of getting into useless conflicts, don’t be over concerned of others, beware of love affairs especially if you’re already dating someone, beware of getting scammed i’d say don’t take the step of business partnership if you have uranus or neptune influence on the 7th house.

STELLIUM IN THE EIGHTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Embrace new major transformations, get ready for change and allow it!, explore your sexuality more, invest, join the stock market (don’t if you have neptune or uranus), learn spiritual practices because you’ll get more spiritual, best times to learn astrology and tarot, keep secrets, learn more about psychology, do that plastic surgery you’ve had in mind if needed only, also heal your trauma.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Go against the flow and get scared of the rebirth you need to go through, hate the constant change and how intense your emotions could be.

STELLIUM IN THE NINTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Choose a different college major, adopt new beliefs and focus on your higher education, travel more, good time to visit your grandparents, try to stay with them more, learn a new language, learn about you religion and just literally learn anything!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Going to a country without any background of their culture is!, see what’s appropriate to do and what’s not, ignore your university studies or just basically getting distracted!.

STELLIUM IN THE TENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Time to build your legacy, go all out!, also work on your reputation, time to build the public persona you dreamt of, set long term goals and know what you want to be in the next 5 years, fulfill your responsibilities and get ready for recognition!, also fix your problems with your father, get closer to your bosses, network!, build a professional name and really get serious about building your career!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Doing things that’s harmful or shady for your reputation, avoid suspicious things this year because everyone will have you on the tip of their tongue. Not taking your responsibilities and your work seriously, disrespecting your bosses, procrastinating, not being professional or efficient.

STELLIUM IN THE ELEVENTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Networking for your career, become more social, meet new people, change your toxic friends circle, cut who you don’t feel comfortable with!, go out more, learn about the law of assumption, manifest your desires, GET THAT BAG, start a new social media account or an online business and earn from it!, very high potential for success, watch new films, save to buy a new phone or laptop, know what you hope and wish for in the future to aim for it, make your debut in society and share your work and talents, go to parties, donate to some organizations and also join a club!.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Letting toxic people stay in your life this is the best time to cut them, don’t know anything about politics or have any sense of social awareness, be shy and miss lots of opportunities, not knowing you boundaries when it comes to friends and relationships!.

STELLIUM IN THE TWELFTH HOUSE:

WHAT TO DO:

Heal, this is a rest era for you, take some time for yourself and heal, repay your karmic debts, focus more on your dreams and try interpreting them, see the messages they have for you, tame your subconscious mind for your own benefit, become more spiritual and seriously, take this time to explore your emotions more and your inner self, find your peace and find solitude in yourself!, best time to end toxic habits and relationships, basically anything you want to stop, listen to subliminals, affirmation tapes, cherish your privacy and stay private, reflect on the past and break free from what’s holding you back, also sleep more and attempt a healthy sleeping schedule, oh and eat fish lmao.

WHAT TO AVOID:

Repeating old cycle, this is really an opportunity to change!, ignore your dreams, become isolated, become depressed because you’ll trauma will surface so HEAL, ignore your subconscious mind needs and thought patterns, drink or consume alcohol, beware of addictions.

[spicyspiders]

fully charged

Mark Grayson x male reader smut

4.2k words

On the same day that Invincible stops by the Tailor Shoppe to talk to Art about how his suit has been bothering him, he meets the reader: Art's apprentice. Warning for smut, nipple play (like a lot of it), and a tiny bit a size kink.

“Art?” A voice asks from the top of the stairs, pulling your attention from the clothing you were mending between your fingers. 

“Invincible!” you respond, easily recognizing the blue and black suit. 

“You’re not Art,” he responds, confused. You don’t need super senses to see the way his body went tense. 

“I’m his apprentice,” you say, pointing a finger to your nametag, “nice to meet you,” you say, standing up from your desk and holding your hand out. You knew it would only be a matter of time before you met your first superhero, but you didn’t expect it would be the Invincible. 

“How long have you been his apprentice?” Invincible asks as he shakes your hand with a firm grip. 

“A few months now,” you respond after taking a second to think. 

“How have we never met?” You both ask at the same time. Your eyes go wide, and you have to guess that under his goggles, he does the same, because seconds later, you fall into a fit of laughter. 

“To be fair,” you say after your laughter has subsided, “I just started working on the suits.”

“So he’s kept you hidden away,” Invincible says. 

A smile stretches out across your lips, “you could say that.”

Invincible folds his arms across his chest, making it difficult to ignore the way his biceps flex, “I’ll have to talk to Art,” he says, his voice an octave deeper, like he’s trying to sound menacing. 

You lay a hand on his arm, “go easy on him,” you say, pulling your hand away once you feel his arms shake with laughter, “what brings you in?”

“Other than to meet you,” Invincible says, pulling another suit seemingly out of thin air. He holds it between your bodies, a smile of embarrassment pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Think you or Art could repair this for me?”

You take a moment to look over the suit, not even waiting to know how the large tear across the middle was made. “Yeah,” you say, looking back up at Invincible’s goggles, “of course we can.” It’d probably be a challenge, but you liked a challenge. 

“Thanks,” Invincible says, letting out a sigh of relief, “I always feel bad coming in with another suit that needs repairing,” he says sheepishly. 

“Don’t be,” you say, going to place the suit down onto your desk, “Art loves you. He’ll be excited later when I tell him you stopped by.”

“Yeah?” Invincible asks with a soft laugh. 

You nod, sending him a soft smile, “I could dye it if you want, but that’ll take extra time.”

“What?” Invincible questions before looking down at the suit he has on, “oh! Uh, maybe? I’m still warming up to this color.”

“Really?” You ask in confusion, “I think it looks good on you,” you said, hoping you weren’t coming on too strong. 

“Thanks,” he responds softly, looking back down once again at the suit.

“Does that one need repairs too?” You ask, looking him over carefully. 

“This one’s good for once,” he says with a sarcastic laugh, “besides, I can’t fly home naked.”

“We have plenty of clothing upstairs we could send you home in,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You hoped one of Invincible’s powers wasn’t sensing emotions, because the thought of the man flying home naked made you feel hot all over. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take, but we can contact the number we have on file when it’s done.”

“I could also stop by later?” Invincible asks, stepping closer, “see if it’s done?”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” you respond, glancing back at his torn up suit. 

“It’ll be nice to see you again,” Invincible says, smiling softly, “and Art, too!” He adds quickly. 

Thankfully, Invincible wasn’t disappointed the next time he showed up and the suit he left with you was not yet fixed. Frankilly, it seemed Invincible felt the opposite as far as you could tell. 

“What’s this? You’ve brought me something else to work on?” You question as you stand up from your desk. 

“I did!” He responds as he places a large bag on the desk, “lunch this time, not a suit.”

“Looks like you’ve brought the whole menu,” you say, glancing into the bag. 

“I used to work there and they still give me a discount.”

“Invincible used to work at Burger Mart?” You ask, your eyes growing wide. 

“No! Not Invincible,” he says quickly, waving his hands out in front of him, “I mean, yes Invincible, but not me,” he says, placing his hand on his chest, “the guy under the suit. Which is also Invincible. So yes.”

Your expression morphs into one full of humor, “you must have been a good employee to still get your discount after you’re gone. Or, do you still work there?”

“No,” Invincible says, refilling through the bag to pull out the many containers it held, “helping thousands of people a day in selfless acts where the only reward I get is my name on a shitty payroll– and that’s just food service,” you bark out a laugh as he continues on, “I couldn’t do that and save the world.”

“Give yourself some more credit!” You respond as your laughter dies down, “do I need to find you a therapist, too?”

It goes quiet, save for the crinkle of the bag as Invincible as empties the bag. In the quiet, you’re quick to open your mouth, afraid your joke dug too deep, “I’m kidding,” you say, trying to fill the awkward silence. 

“No,” Invincible says, trying to smile, but it falls into a grimace, “this new suit is a little,” he runs a hand down his chest, “tight.”

“Let me,” you try, but Invincible pushes your hands away softly. 

“It’s fine. I think I’m still just,” he pauses, trying to find his words, and you swear you see a blush rise up in his cheeks, “breaking it in.”

“You’ll let me know though, right?” You question, “us. I mean,” you say, correcting yourself with a sheepish smile. “Oh!” You say excitedly as you go to rifle through one of the drawers of your desk, “Art wanted me to practice making my own business card,” you say as you hand him one of the prototypes.

“I don’t give this just to anyone,” you say as he grabs it, “and that’s not just because this is one of the only ones I’ve made,” you jest, feeling a small smile at your lips, “let me know, okay?” You question softly, looking into Invincible’s goggles. 

“I will,” Invincible responds softly as he tucks the card softly away, “let’s eat, yeah?” I’m starving.”

 The next time you’re graced with his presence, it comes with a fwoosh and a rush of air that threatens to send the papers flying off your desk. 

“Careful!” You scold with no real heat behind the word, “it took me hours to organize these,” you say, holding up the small stack. 

“That’s like five sheets,” Invincible responds deadpan. 

“Exactly!” You respond, the two of you falling into a fit of giggles seconds later. “What can I do for you?” You ask after you’ve both quieted down. 

“I figured out why this suit is bothering me– why I can’t get used to it,” he clarifies.

“And?” You ask, Invincible looking down at his chest. 

“It’s embarrassing,” he says quietly, looking up. 

“How many meals have we shared together since you brought the entire Burger Mart menu and put it on my desk?” You ask, hoping the joke would help him calm down. 

It does, at least a little bit, by the sound of Invincible’s soft chuckle. “I’ve lost count,” he smiles. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the superhero?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Hey,” Invincible responds, laughing louder, “not all of us have super memory powers.”

“What I’m trying to say,” you start, your arms falling to your sides, “is that I think we’re past the point of you needing to feel embarrassed about being embarrassed around each other,” you lean back against the side of the desk, “after all, I didn’t tell you that story of how I accidentally stabbed a client with a sewing needling last month for you to be embarrassed around me.”

“You don’t even know my name,” Invincible murmurs, sending you a soft smile. 

“You’d be surprised how in depth the file Art has on you goes,” you say, matter-of-factly. 

“What?” Invincible asks, his head snapping up.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You say, laughing at the way his mouth goes agape in surprise, “the only file we have on you says what your suit is made of, the color, your phone number, and a photo of the ones Art and I have made in the past for reference,” you say, listing it off on your fingers. 

“You really don’t know my name?” He asks, stepping closer to you. 

“Invincible?” You guess, practically hearing the sound of his eyes rolling. 

“My real one,” Invincible says through a laugh. 

You shrug your shoulders, hoping the man would just tell you. Your heart pattered in your chest, knowing how nice it would be to put a name to a face. Or, half-face that was cut off due to his mask. You didn’t remember when it had begun, probably soon after he had brought you lunch that first time, you found your thoughts turning to Invincible, even when you weren’t at your apprenticeship working on his suit. 

“It’s Mark,” he answers quietly, like he’s afraid of you to hear. 

“Mark,” you say to yourself, testing the name out on your tongue, “should I add this to your file?”

“Maybe,” Mark says, stepping even closer, “can we just keep this between us?” He asks, his voice low. 

“We can do that,” you answer, smiling as you see Mark’s chest fall as he lets out a breath of relief, “but only if you tell me why your suit is bothering you.”

Mark lets out another breath, “it’s chafing,” he whispers.

“So you’re in pain?” You question, “Mark-”

“No!” Mark says quickly, putting enough space between your bodies to raise his hands in surrender, “it doesn’t hurt! I’m just a little,” he pauses, “sensitive in some areas,” he says, looking away. 

“Where?” You ask, looking him over like you had powers of your own that could pinpoint where it was bothering him. 

“My chest,” Mark whispers. 

It should have been obvious, now that you think back on it, especially given the way Mark had been rubbing his chest the past few times you’ve seen him. Perhaps you were too focused on trying to picture what Mark’s face looked like behind his mask. 

“And you’re sure it doesn’t hurt?” You ask, placing a hand in the middle of Mark’s chest. His body ran warm beneath his suit, warming your fingers where they made contact. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Mark answers, he raises his hand to place it atop yours, “besides,” he says, stepping closer until you were nearly chest-to-chest, “seeing you makes it easy to ignore,” he whispers, his mouth hovering above yours. 

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs has you both jumping away from each other, you both turning to see who was coming to interrupt your moment. 

“Invincible?” Art asks, making his way down the stairs. 

“H- Hey! Art!” Mark says hovering away from you to try and make it not look like he wasn’t moments away from kissing you.

“What brings you in? Don’t tell me you’ve brought him lunch again and didn’t bring me anything like last time?” Art asks with a chuckle. 

“No! I uh,” Mark looks at you, hoping you would somehow save him, “just wanted to see if there were any updates to the suit I brought in.”

Nice, you mouth, trying your hardest not to laugh as Mark squirms under Art’s gaze.

“Art’s making me do this one all on my own, nut I’m almost done. If you need it back sooner, I’m sure Art wouldn’t mind-”

“No! No! It’s okay. I was just,” Mark pauses to look away, “in the neighbourhood and wanted to stop by.” His feet come off the ground, hovering in the air for a few seconds as he opens his mouth to let out a quick goodbye, “I gotta go though! Good to see you two!”

The rush of air ruffles Mark’s suit on your desk, “good to see you!” Art yells up the stairs he just flew up, letting out a laugh when he turns back to you, “have you gotten used to it, yet?” Art asks, “all this?” He questions, gesturing around. 

You run your hands down your clothing, smoothing away where the rush of air had messed it up, “whenever I think I am,” your mind goes back to moments ago when Mark had almost kissed you, “something new surprises me.”

Hours later, when you’re back home and ready to relax, you hear your phone ringing in your bedroom. Rushing to answer it from where it’s charging on your nightstand, you manage to reach it before the last ring. 

“Who the f-” you murmur, seeing the unknown number on your screen, “hello?”

“H- Hey,” a rough voice says on the other side.  

“Mark?” You ask, pulling your phone from the charger. 

“Hey,” Mark repeats, sounding better, but still not fully like himself. 

“Can I come over?” He asks softly, “my suit, it’s-”

“Come over,” you breath, your heart pounding in your chest, “I don’t have all of my supplies at home, but I’ll see what I can do,” you hear Mark on the other side let out a sigh of relief, “I’ll text you my address, okay?”

“Okay,” Mark answers softly.

“Fly safe,” you say with a smile, the line going dead moments later. 

Nearly ten minutes after you’ve sent Mark your address, you hear a knock at your door. “Shoot!” You hiss, wishing you had more time to try and clean up around your place. 

“Hey,” Mark says once you’ve opened the door. 

“Come in,” you say, “ignore the mess,” you command, closing the door behind Mark after he’s inside. 

“What mess?” Mark asks, whipping his head around, “the three dishes you’ve got in the sink?” He questions, pulling his mask off. 

“I told you to ignore-” your words trailing off, your mind going blank when Mark turns around, his mask held in his hand, “it,” you finish once your brain has caught back up with your mouth. You had spent more time than you wanted to admit thinking about what Mark looked like under his mask, but it sure was worth the wait. 

Mark flies the short distance it takes to get in front of you, ruffling his soft looking dark hair, “hey,” he whispers, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“Hey,” you respond, “how was work?” You ask, leaning into Mark’s touch, your face inching closer to his.

Mark lets out a soft laugh, “Burger Mart or saving the world?” He asks, his lips finally meeting yours. 

It was soft, slow, and perfect. Mark’s lips were slightly chapped against yours, likely from the wind he just flew through to get to your house, but you didn’t mind. You pulled away before the kiss could heat up, not forgetting about why Mark was here. 

“Take this off,” you command, your hands running down the front of Mark’s suit. 

“Yeah?” Mark asks, his voice breathy. 

“Not what I meant,” you say with a soft laugh. Though, it probably didn’t help when you pulled Mark into your bedroom with a loose hand around his wrist. “How’s your chest?” You ask, now in the safety of your bedroom. 

“Fine,” Mark responds as he slowly pulls off the top of his suit. You go sit down on your bed, keeping your legs close together, trying to ignore the way you feel the way your cock stirs at the sight of Mark’s muscular chest. 

You took a few minutes to study the top of his suit, thinking that it maybe had to do with the fabric, but you weren’t quite sure. But that was just probably because it was hard to focus when Mark stood half-naked right in front of you. 

“I don’t see anything,” you say, frustration lacing your words. As you looked over his suit, you brought it close to your face to further inspect it, and though you couldn’t see anything, this close you could smell Mark on it. 

It mostly smelled like the outdoors, lightly of sweat, and a faint hint of Mark’s deodorant. Underneath, there was another smell, something that was all Mark.   

You placed his suit down beside you before scooting closer off the edge of the bed. You raise a hand to the middle of his chest, “how does that feel?” You ask, running your fingers along the center of his chest. 

“It isn’t there,” Mark whispers. 

You pull your eyes away from your hand and look up at Mark, watching as his hand moves to cover yours. He moves his hand from the center of his chest over to rest on his nipple.

“This where it’s chafing?” You ask, running your thumb lightly over his nipple. 

Above you, Mark gasps, his head turning away as he avoids your eye, “yeah,” he bites out. 

There’s nothing out of the ordinary about them visually, but with the way Mark is reacting just from you grazing one with your thumb, you can tell how sensitive they were. 

“How long does it take for the sensitivity to go away?” You ask, looking up at Mark, even if he won’t meet your eye. 

“Not long,” Mark answers, “a warm shower helps,” he says, and though sensitive, he pushes into your touch. 

“I might just need to get new measurements and adjust your suit so it’s tighter on your chest so there’s less friction,” you bring your other hand to Mark’s other nipple, “but,” your eyes go back down to look at his chest, “can I try something in the mean time to help you feel better?”

Mark nods eagerly as he comes forward, his knees coming to rest on the bed on either side of your thighs. 

Your left hand goes to Mark’s lower back to steady him, but it wasn’t like he would need it, him being a superhero and all. You lean forward and run your tongue slowly over his left nipple, feeling Mark go tense under your tongue. 

It only takes seconds for Mark to relax under the wet appendage, the man making his pleasure known with noises that ring out deep from his chest. One of Mark’s hands makes its way to the back of your neck, holding you in place with a tight, yet non-threatening grip on the back of your neck.

“How's that feel?” You ask after pulling away from his nipple. 

“Good,” Mark moans, “better,” he says, moaning once more as you blow cool air onto his nipple, the change in temperature making it harden. 

You lean forward to get his nipple back in your mouth, Mark’s back arching when you scrape your teeth along the sensitive bud. His moans move from deep in his chest, to high in his throat, higher in octave as he moans again and again. 

Though half-hard, the bulge of Mark’s cock strains against the suit, the length of it digging into your body as he presses into your touch. Mark whimpers when you pull away once more, both of your hands coming to rest on Mark’s hips, right above the waistband of his suit. 

“Too much?” You ask, looking up at Mark to wait for his answer. 

Mark falls into your lap, his hips coming into contact with yours. You moan into Mark’s mouth as he pulls you into a slick kiss just as your cocks come together through your clothing. Another moan comes out when Mark grinds down, rubbing his hardening cock against yours. 

You feel the firm length of Mark’s cock thickening up against yours as Mark’s tongue makes its way into your mouth. You bring your hands up to Mark’s muscular back, digging your fingers in as you feel his muscles flex. Mark groans against your mouth as you dig your nails in, your lips finally breaking contact as you both take in lungfuls of air.  

Mark ducks down to press his lips to yours before rising off the bed, this kiss much softer than the last. You chase after his mouth, aching for more while at the same time waiting to see why Mark was pulling away. 

You watch with lust-filled eyes as Mark gets the bottom of his suit down, somehow making the action of kicking the bunched up suit off sexy. As he walks the few steps back to the bed, your eyes flick down to his cock that swings between his toned thighs.

“No underwear?” You ask with a smirk, bringing your eyes back up to Mark’s face. 

“Not when I wear my suit,” Mark responds as his hands sneak under your shirt to pull it off. 

“How often do you wear your suit?” You ask, bringing your hands back down, now shirtless. 

Mark’s hands now at your waistband, he leans down to brush his lips against your earlobe, “everyday,” he whispers mischievously, tugging down your pants and underwear in one swoop. 

You skim your fingers along Mark’s hard cock, “do I need to sew in a cup for this guy?” You ask, looking up to watch as Mark gasps. “How does he even fit in there?” You ask, nodding over to the pile that was Mark’s suit. 

“Can you stop,” Mark moans as you stroke his cock from root to tip, your eyes tracking the movement as a bead of precum falls, “talking about my dick?” He asked. 

“What should I do instead?” You purred, gathering what’s leaked out from the head of Mark’s cock on your fingers. You brought it to your mouth as you waited for Mark to answer, licking the salty taste from your fingers. “Mark?” You asked in a teasing tone after a few moments of his gaping. 

Mark shook his head quickly, his eyes coming back into focus as he pulled them away from your mouth, “anything!” He answered, much too loud for how close you were, “anything you want to do,” he said, much quieter. 

“Come on,” you command, pulling Mark up the bed to settle his body against the headboard. This time, you made your way into his lap, Mark’s legs spreading to accompany your body. You rested on his muscular thighs, your hard cocks rubbing together as your mouths met.

Mark wrapped a calloused hand around your cocks, his hand becoming wet and slick in only a few strokes. The kiss fell apart as you moaned, the pleasure of your cocks rubbing together making it hard to focus on the movement of your mouth against his. 

You lean down to press your forehead against Mark’s, breathing in the same air as you caught your breath. Once calmed down, or as much as you possibly could given the situation you were in, you moved down Mark’s body to lick the other nipple you neglected earlier.

The angle was awkward at first, bringing a strain to your neck, but Mark made it easier as his body fell into the pillows behind him. Your lips vibrated against Mark’s chest as your tongue to his right nipple brought a loud moan deep from within his chest. 

The sound only egged you on as you continued to play with his nipple, your tongue swirling around the bud. Once the nub hardened under your tongue, you captured it between your teeth. Mark’s moans grew louder as you worked the nub between your teeth, his hand speeding up around your cocks. 

You pulled back with one last lick, soothing what sensitivity was brought on by your teeth. “Feel better?” You asked as Mark’s moans died down. 

“So good,” Mark breathed, his other hand going up your back to wrap around your neck and pull you into a messy kiss. As your lips met over and over again, Mark’s hand went faster around your cocks, gliding back and forth along the sensitive skin. 

“Mark,” you moaned against his mouth, hoping that the single sound of his name would be enough to warn him that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

You brought your hands to Mark’s chest, finding purchase as your orgasm shot through your body. Your fingers dug into Mark’s pecs, nails grazing the skin, making him moan at the feeling. 

Seconds later, Mark joined you over the edge, adding to the mess your cock had spurted onto your chests. As you started to come down, the aftershocks of Mark orgasm began, his hips twitching forward as the last few spurts leaked from the head. 

Mark’s hand, now stained in your combined cum, wrapped around your back to pull you more comfortably into his lap. You came down together, not minding one bit as Mark ran his messy hand along your back. Well, maybe you did mind as it started to combine with the drying sweat on your skin. 

You pressed your lips to Mark’s softly, his arms tightening around your body as he laid you both down, “okay?” You asked tiredly. 

Mark’s mouth stretched into a slow smile, “you serious?” He asked, “you see the mess you made?” He asked, gesturing down his body with a laugh. 

“I didn’t make this mess,” you replied with a laugh of your own. 

“You think I did this myself?” He questioned, his hand running slowly along your back. 

“Seems like it,” you replied, kissing the smile away from Mark’s mouth. 

[btsvt-bar]

Fuckboy!Wonwoo going for shy!reader since he assumes they’re a virgin, just to find out reader is an absolute freak and rides him until he passes out

wonwoo bias wrecked me so much after the follow again concerts that this just came to life on it’s own. i wrote the freshman experience based off of how it is on my country and i loved writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too! ♡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

fuckboy!wonwoo who’s your game design course sunbaenim. he contradicts all paradigms about nerds, because he’s hot as fuck.

fuckboy!wonwoo who spots you on the first day of classes. he sees you walking past him in your tiny skirt and "I ♡ games" tshirt and finds you adorable.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fights with other veterans to keep you as his freshman. he loses the argument to Nayeon, the course’s students’ president, and sulks for the rest of the day.

fuckboy!wonwoo who hits on you at the bar that night. everyone’s whispering about the two of you.

since Nayeon’s done her job and warned you before hand about Wonwoo’s reputation, you turn him down nicely because you hate the attention. of course, it only spurs him on.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tried to befriend you as a way of getting into your pants (well, he’s a fuckboy after all!).

a couple months after, once he realizes you’re actually really funny and outgoing when you feel comfortable enough, he finds himself enjoying the time you two spend together.

fuckboy!wonwoo who becomes obsessed with you. he convinces himself it’ll fade away once he fucks you. but then he finds himself getting so fucking jealous when he hears you calling Seungcheol your “oppa”. he knows Cheol has a thing for you — your innocent, virgin like persona is driving every male student wild. so he feels his blood boiling when you touch his hyung’s bicep as you smile sweetly and bat your eyelashes.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really annoyed when his friends mock him, claiming he lost his charms and won’t get to fuck you like he would do to any other girl.

"it’s up to Coups Hyung to pop her cherry." Jeonghan holds back a laugh as Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

Like hell we will! he thinks.

fuckboy!wonwoo who tries to sleep with someone else to get off and forget about you. but it doesn’t work and he gets more frustrated than before.

fuckboy!wonwoo who offers to help you with your class project and goes to your shared dorm room on a Saturday night. you open the door and he holds his breath when he sees your super princess peach cropped shirt.

"what? it’s my favorite game" you state, with a pout on your lips, when he stares for too long.

"oh, nothing. it’s a good one." he babbles, averting his eyes from your chest. your shirt was probably old, since he could see the outline of your nipples through the white fabric. he swallows nervously, trying to shake the image of your pebbled nipples off of his head.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets distracted by your short sleeping shorts, since they do the bare minimum to cover you up.

"Nonu, are you listening?" you complain as you shake him. his eyes are out of focus when he meets your gaze. "earth to Nonu! what are you thinking about?"

fuckboy!wonwoo who bites his lower lip and stares at you.

"i’m thinking about you, cutie." he flirts. usually, you would blush and avert your eyes. so it’s a shocker for him when your Bambi eyes transform into a siren gaze.

“what about me?" you whisper, inching closer to his face. "is it about the ways you’d like to fuck me?" that’s all it takes for Wonwoo to take off his glasses and crash his lips into yours.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really excited and surprised when he finds out you’re not a virgin. in fact, you’re a total freak in bed. he feels a bit fooled since you got everyone believing you’re a pure angel, but he isn’t about to complain.

not when you’re jumping up and down on his dick with your pretty boobs on full display for him.

fuckboy!wonwoo who fucks up into you with all his might, thinking that he could die happy buried in your heat like that.

you’re riding him so good, your hips grinding against his and your hands clawing at his chest. your lips are red and swollen from kissing, your head’s thrown back in pleasure. you let out quiet ah-ah-ahs that enter Wonwoo’s ears and spin down his body directly to his dick.

fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly blows his load when you ask him to choke you.

his big hand presses on your throat with minimum force, but you demand more pressure and he complies.

fuckboy!wonwoo who circles your clit and sucks your nipples to help you cum. and when you do, he follows shortly after, emptying three months worth of blue balls in the condom and nearly passes out.

fuckboy!wonwoo who cuddles you and realizes he’s been tricked.

"i’m not complaining, but i thought you were a virgin."

you laugh, turning around to face him. "and the resident fuckboy gets played." pride bubbles in your chest. Wonwoo smiles at you, his brown eyes still a bit glazed over from his high.

"i liked being played" he admits with a shy smile.

fuckboy!wonwoo who refuses to go back to his own room. thank goodness your roommate is not coming back for the night.

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© btsvt-bar, 2024

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