#me: yeah silver is a switch

[xxcherrycherixx]

Blondie walking into the room to see cupid lounging completely naked on her bed scrolling through hextagram:

Cupid noticing her and moving to wave, her boobs now fully on display: blondie! You’re back early :D whats with that look?

Blondie:

Blondie: dexter would have never survived dating you.

Cupid: what

[medicinemane]

You know, looking at a diet soda can it occurs to me that it might not be so wretched to me if the cans weren't so unpleasant

Like we know that things like color play a role in how our brain perceives things, and I realized looking at the can that they're always this bland but at the same time nasty looking silver and it just... it looks foul and I think that compounds with the fact that I also just plain don't like diet soda

My point here isn't to say anyone else shouldn't like diet soda, just how I never realized how much of an impact the can has on me not liking it... there's just something offputting about it to me

[lyriumsings]

idk why everyone acts like lifeweaver is such a bad team pick like idk maybe you’re just bad at supporting DJSJSJ

[exopelagic]

cue screaming abt legends Z-A

[mrfoox]

How to make Miranda lose up to 80% of her trust and belief in you 101:

- break an promise

- break an agreement on something that's kinda a big deal

[katsu28]

lucky charm

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando finds comfort in your presence as doubt starts to creep in before a race (2k)

warnings: minimal swearing

a/n: hi i know i'm still super new here and i'm not even sure if i'm actually going to start writing rpf but i think about this motherfucker 24/7 now and this came to me in a dream <3 let's ignore the actual way he got his ring necklace okay? okay!

“No one saw you come in, right?” 

Lando let the door close behind him gently, a total opposite to the quickest few steps you’d ever seen him take across the small driver’s room, and he leaned over to kiss you, hard. 

You let out a squeak of surprise at the force of it, but had no hesitation in kissing him back as soon as your body caught up with your brain, arms looping around his neck to bring him down and closer to you.

Lando’s knees hit the cushions on either side of you, hands doing the same on the leather backrest, clumsy as all hell but twice as determined not to let his mouth leave yours. 

Your fingers knocked the McLaren cap right off his head as they moved into his hair, clutching at his chocolate curls on instinct like you’d done so many times before. But never here, never before one of Lando’s races, and certainly never at the risk of being caught by anyone in the facility at any given moment. 

It didn’t seem to matter to Lando, though, with the way he was kissing you like he was parched and you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. 

But given the rather frantic series of texts you’d received from him that got you here in the first place, you weren’t at all too surprised. You knew how nervous Lando got before races, and if there was something you could do, you’d never hesitate to be there for him. Especially since you were able to make it to this one. 

“Yeah,” He mumbled between kisses, panting against your lips. Somehow he’d managed to switch positions so he was the one on the sofa now and you were sitting on his lap, straddling his hips as you continued your rather sloppy makeout session. “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. ‘M sneaky like that.” 

“Had a lot of practice at this, have you?” 

“No!” It was almost comical how fast he pulled away from you to blurt out his answer. “No, not at all. I don’t know why I said that, I—” 

“I was just kidding, bub.” You chuckled, smoothing the pad of your thumb across his kiss-swollen bottom lip fondly. Lando grinned sheepishly, giving your waist a playful little pinch. You’d never get over the way he looked at you, like you were the only other person to exist in the world—especially when he was under you like this, and especially with those eyes. His baby cow eyes, you always called them. 

Even so, Lando was extremely tense, you could tell. He tended to get very in his head before races, probably why he asked you to come meet him so close to the green flag, to help him quell his nerves a little. He always said you helped him more than anything else ever could. 

“I have something for you.” You said softly. 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He leaned back against the cushion, happily accepting the chaste kiss you pressed to his lips before you bounced off his lap and over to where your bag was sitting. 

You rummaged around in it for a few moments until you found what you were looking for, a triumphant grin on your face as you made your way back over to an intrigued Lando. This time you settled next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. His hand came to rest on your knee immediately. 

“Open it.” You urged, pressing the small black bag into his waiting palm. He undid the drawstring carefully, beaming even before he got a look at what was inside. That smile only grew bigger as he poured the contents of the bag into his hand. 

A thin silver chain, joined together at the ends with two interlocking rings, sleek and silver just like the rest of the necklace. Upon closer inspection, he saw numbers etched into the inside of each one. One of them, Lando recognized instantly as the date of your anniversary. The other looked like a set of coordinates, but he wasn’t too great at geography, so he looked to you for an explanation. 

“The place we first met.” 

“You looked up the coordinates of that tiny little restaurant? Nerd.” He chuckled, artfully dodging the swat you aimed his way at his teasing remark.

“It could be, like, your new lucky charm or something.” You shrugged, watching him turn the rings around carefully between his fingers. 

Lando glanced up, bumping your shoulder with his gently. “I’ve already got one.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s you.” 

“Me?” 

“I like knowing you’re watching me. Even though I can’t see you, or even if you’re not here, knowing I’ve got you cheering me on from wherever you are helps. I think it makes me a better driver.” 

“Lan, you’re already a great driver.. You don’t need me for you to know that.” 

“I know. I just—it keeps me focused. To know you’re there.” He said softly, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “And now with this, I can have a piece of you with me whenever. Here, help me put it on.” 

“You can’t wear it under your suit, Lando, even I know that.”

“Alright, well, I’ll figure it out later. C’mon, put it on me.” Lando leaned forward, giving you space to bring the chain up over his head and around his neck. He even managed to sneak in another kiss whilst you followed the silver down to where the rings rested just below his collarbones. Your fingers stroked at the warm skin there, the cold of the metal contrasting.

“It looks good on you.” 

Lando melted like a popsicle on a hot summer day under your touch, smiling so big at you that you could hardly believe this was the same boy who had other drivers trembling in their fireproofs. He hoisted you back into his lap effortlessly, nosing at your pulse point a bit before smacking a kiss to your cheek when you wrapped your arm around his shoulders. “You look good on me.” 

“That was so bad. Like, really bad. I get why they call you Lando Norizz now.” 

“What?! Bad? That was so fucking smooth!” He huffed, going from looking completely smitten to entirely offended. “And I happen to have lots of rizz, thank you very much. I practically ooze rizz, love.” 

“I take it back.” You replied solemnly, patting Lando’s cheek. “That was worse.” 

“You’re so mean to me. I don’t know why I even put up with this harassment!” 

“Always so dramatic, you.” 

“I’ve got to be! How else would I be able to withstand this abuse?” 

You scoffed playfully and moved to climb off him, opting to keep a safe enough distance away so you wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him stupid. Then he’d really be late. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for, driver boy?” 

“I am,” He said earnestly, tucking his hands behind his head. You arched a skeptical brow, hands propped on your hips. 

“By hiding out in here with me?” 

“You know what they say—calm the mind, and the body will follow.” 

“I’ve literally never heard anyone say that.” 

“Well maybe people should start!” 

You huffed out an amused chuckle, crossing your arms. “Are you ready?” 

A sudden silence  blanketed the tiny room, Lando’s non response giving you all you needed to know. 

He reached out for you with a pout that you’d never been quite able to resist, fingers beckoning you back over longingly, like you were too far away for his liking. You gave in almost immediately despite previously wanting to give him space, trudging over with an overexaggerated roll of your eyes and letting yourself be pulled back onto his lap yet again. 

“I’ll be alright.” He answered finally, taking your hand in his. He fiddled with your fingers, tracing along each digit languidly and then circling his thumb over your palm—once, twice, a third time. 

This, something you’d learned quite early on in your relationship with Lando, was one of his many versions of self-soothing. The repetition of his actions proved rather calming to him, and it certainly helped that he got to feel your skin against his. 

His brows drew together in thought, furrowed and tense until you pushed your thumb into the wrinkle between them, smoothing out the scrunch. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist loosely. 

“You’re gonna do great, you know.” You insisted. 

He offered you as good of a smile as he could muster. “Yeah. I know.”  

“You’re gonna do your best, and whatever happens, you’ve got so many people who’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

“I don’t know if it’s enough.” Lando blurted, scratching at a patch on his suit. “I’ve been racing for years, and I still have no wins to show for it. It’s not fair to my team, it’s not fair to the fans. It’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to have a boyfriend who can’t fucking drive for shit.” 

“Lando, I’m not with you because of your job.” You said shortly, pressing your lips into a thin, unamused line. “And quite frankly, I feel hurt that you could even think I was.” 

Lando was quick to soothe, shaking his head frantically. He took both your hands in his, squeezing. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, it’s just—I get in my head a lot. And I start to overthink, and shit comes out of my mouth that I don’t mean. I know you’re not like that, I do. I’m sorry.” 

You softened, sighing. “You could never win a race, ever, and I'd still love you all the same.”

He snorted. “Well, I’d like to win one at some point.” 

“What I meant was, I can’t speak for everyone else, but my pride for you has nothing to do with how well you do on the track, my love.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I’m proud of you because you’re you. You’re kind and you work hard, and you try your best at everything you do. Even if the outcome isn’t what you expected, you keep at it. You keep going. That’s one of the reasons why I love you, that’s why I’m so proud of you.” 

“I’m stupid.” He groaned, tipping his head back against the couch cushions. You simply made a noise of agreement. “You’re too good to me. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, you really need to go back to the garage. I’m sure Oscar’s sent out a search party for you at this point.” You said firmly, giving his chest a sharp poke. Lando groaned again but made to get up, shifting your legs off him so he could climb to his feet. 

“Fine. Just kick me out of my own room, why don’t you?” He huffed dramatically, swiping his hat off the floor and jamming it back over his hair. You aimed a fake kick towards him, stifling a giggle when he caught your foot and pretended to undo your laces. “Kiss?” 

“You need to leave, Lando,” You whined, batting him away gently. “I refuse to be the reason you’re late.” 

“One more. Just one more for good luck and I promise I’ll leave.” He insisted, expression pleading. You grumbled something unintelligible, reaching up begrudgingly to bring him down for one last kiss. 

Lando smiled against your lips, snaking a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place a few beats longer than you intended. You practically had to unstick yourself from him, giving him a little shove towards the door so he’d actually leave. 

Immediately, he whirled around. “Wait, wait—”

“Lando! Go!” 

“No, no, hold on, it’s important.” He slipped his newfound chain over his head, rubbing his thumb over both rings before holding it out towards you. “Keep this safe for me?” He asked earnestly, pressing the necklace into your hands. “Can’t have my lucky charm getting lost already, can I?” 

“Give ‘em hell, number four.” You smiled, donning the necklace yourself. He beamed, blowing you a kiss as he backpedaled down the hall. "Number four on the track, number one in my heart!"

You could hear his infectious laughter echoing even as he retreated around the corner.

Lando would be fine. And if he wasn’t, he’d bounce back, like he always did. And you’d be there to support him every step of the way, like you always were. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[plasticferal]

hey girlie, i NEED car sex matt pls😣🙏

shut up and drive | matt sturniolo.

authors note: thank you for the request! i hope i did it justice in these 3.9k words. not proof read! sorry it takes me forever to write lol.

warnings: 18+ content. road head, handjob, fingering, soft switch!matt, somewhat dom!reader, explicit language, unprotected, semi-public indecency. reader discretion advised.

matt has a bad, almost neck breaking habit of staring at you while he's driving. you can feel his eyes on you, then glancing away, then looking through his peripheral vision to make sure you're not about to call him out.

"you're so pretty, baby" he speaks, admiring you. you chuckle, shifting in the car seat. bringing a hand around to his headrest, you play with his hair. he grips just above your knee with one hand, the other secure at the bottom of the wheel.

“eyes on the road, matthew” you tug at his hair with a warning.

he groans in complaint, a tone that would indicate he's annoyed but deep down, he loves it. he loves the sound of your direct voice, telling him to do something and then expecting it from him.

you're the only person who could make a demand and it not get under his skin, because you always mean it from a good place. that, and the fact he's utterly infatuated by you.

"you could have just said thank you" he mumbles, taking it as a hit to his joviality.

"thank you, my love" and he smiles softly and timidly at you, cheeks flushing pink at your words alone. you squeeze his cheeks to turn his head back to the road ahead and he laughs.

you smile at him with admiration. how good he looks with his sleeves rolled up at the wrists, hand lazily on the bottom of the steering wheel, silver rings wrapping around his long, slender fingers. the road ahead is empty, no cars around and the only sound being matt humming along to the music.

the sun is finally setting, and you're both drained. he's driving you both home, fidgeting in his seat as the trip feels far too long. his hips wriggle, and you can tell he needs a break from driving. the views surrounding you are monotonous, making you both heavy-eyed.

"sorry," his voice is meek, small yawn escaping his lips.

"don't apologise, matty." you laugh inwardly.

"i know, i do that a lot," he agrees, shaking off his tiredness.

if there's one person in this world he's going to agree with, it's you. even if you're completely wrong in a statement, or an idea, he's agreeing with you without justification.

"can i have a kiss?" he asks wholesomely, leaning his cheek over a little, one hand still glued to the steering wheel.

"do you think you deserve one?" you ask him warmly, turning in your seat so your body is toward him.

"i do" he nods.

"you have been good, baby." you admit.

you can already tell that matt is tense, your touch in any way at all making his skin hot. he’s been on his best behaviour the entire drive, knowing his reward at the end is you.

"i know, just for you." he speaks softly, proudly.

you exhale amusement, elbow resting on the centre console so you can get closer to matt. pressing your lips to his cheekbone, his face is warm. either from blushing or the heat he has blasting. he smiles sweetly, and satisfied.

you raise a hand to behind his headrest to start playing with his hair again. you scratch the back of his neck lightly, massaging where you can. he melts at the feeling on your nails raking through.

"that feels so good," his voice is like a record player, smooth but a little scratchy.

matt rests his right hand above your knee, giving you a squeeze to say thank you. he keeps his hand there, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

matt is still restless in his seat. you can tell by the way he's rubbing his thighs together, appearing uncomfortable. not being able to sit still.

"you feeling okay?" you ask, observing your boyfriend.

"yeah, baby" he looks at you for a split second, cautious not to linger.

you love watching him drive. the effortlessness, knowing he's in full control, the way he leans back into his seat.

readjusting in your own spot, scooting a little, his hand is forced further up your thigh. you lay your hand over his, pulling it closer up to the crease where your leg meets your hip. you feel matt's eyes dart to gaze down to where he's touching you, needing to see. you force his head back by the base of his neck, and he huffs.

"that's not fair, you're distracting me.” he comments lightheartedly.

"i'm not even doing anything" you speak defensively.

"yeah, well, it doesn't take much" he scoffs, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

you’ve been hinting all day that you can’t wait to get him home and have him all to yourself, but the temptation is tested the further into the drive you get.

"if i really wanted to distract you, i'd do this," you move your hand from his hair, to rest in his lap.

you’re blatant with your action, hand over the zipper of his pants, cupping his buldge. matt grips the steering with both hands, glancing down for a second and muttering a quick “fuck” under his breath.

“that’s really not fair” his voice quivers.

"you don't want me to touch you?" you ask sweetly. in a way that drives him insane.

your hand dances across his crotch through his jeans, his dick slowly revealing a more prominent shape under the blue fabric as he hardens. his dick leans toward his right leg, and your hand wraps around him over his pants.

"fuck, no. i mean- yes. shit, i do. just not now" he shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he positions his hands on the wheel at ten and two.

"so no touching?" you ask, rubbing him softly as he grows in your hand.

you caress his cock as his breaths become short, pulse elevating as you play with him. you feel his dick twitch as you squeeze him, and he grips the steering wheel tight enough you can hear the leather squeak.

"not while i'm driving baby, please" he whines, voice shaking as you ignore his plea and continue rubbing him, leaning over the seat so you can get a proper hold.

"you haven't been touched all day, huh baby?" you're close to his ear, and your breath hitting the skin on his neck has matt almost turning off the road.

it's taking all of his self control not to slam on the brakes. your distraction has him cautiously slowing down, despite there being no one around on the long stretch. distant headlights can be seen, a glowing blur, strained lights. but no one close enough to see your next moves.

"fuck, you're such a tease" he sighs, eyes glaring into the windshield ahead.

abruptly, you let go of his crotch. and he turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, like he hadn't just requested you stop touching him.

"you said not while you're driving. so now you can wait" you can shrug, innocently snuggling back into your spot, out of his space.

matt's mouth makes a tight ‘o’ shape, blowing out a stressed breath, like he’s whistling, but it’s silent. his nostrils flare quickly and he twists his hands on the wheel, as if to distract himself.

he rubs his hips into the seat beneath him again, and you watch as his jaw shifts, back teeth grinding momentarily. the subtle goatee on his face shadows his jaw, chin and upper lip. he looks irresistible.

matt tries to ignore his boner, but it's so prominent. he hisses through his teeth, trying to tuck himself into the band of his boxers with one hand, but anytime he swerves slightly, he gets annoyed and gives up. you bite your lip, trying to inhale back a giggle at his desperation.

"sweetheart, you need to do something about this. i-it hurts," matt's voice is strained with complaint.

you lick your lips slowly, staring at him. he turns his head to reciprocate a dark, sultry look in his eyes.

as much as you want to continue toying with him, you click your seatbelt off, gaining his attention immediately. pulling yourself up onto the leather car seat, positioning to get your knees, you guide your body over the centre console again.

this time, crawling your hands all over the leather details of his car, you grab the bottom of his seat to hold yourself up, dipping your head under his arms that are stretched out, you let your face hover over his lap.

you feel matt's eyes try to lower his gaze, to watch you over his thighs, but simultaneously force himself to be unaware of your actions.

“eyes on the road” you speak, delicate fingers pinching the zipper on his jeans to guide it down, pulling the material open to reveal his navy blue boxers, complimenting his olive skin.

you sweep your hand under the thin fabric to free his erection, tip already glistening with pre-cum. the build up from being tested all day finally coming to fruition.

"you got this worked up just from my touch?" you huff a laugh, mouth hovering over his cock once you finally free him completely.

matt's hips buck up, lower back no longer hitting the seat, arching toward you. stroking his cock in your warm hands, letting the blood rush to his pink, throbbing tip, your mouth is inches away from his length.

"this is so dangerous" his voice is unsteady, knuckles turning white with how hard he's gripping the wheel.

"shut up and drive, matthew." the second your words are out, you bridge the gap between your mouth and his dick.

quickly falling into a rhythm as you bob your head up and down on his dick, his hips jolt up into your mouth as he drives over a speed bump, making you gag.

"ahhhh, sh-shit, y/n" he groans, eyes fluttering as he tries to keep his focus on the road.

you grip his thigh, nails digging into his jeans. you hear his head loll back and hit the headrest with a thud, straining his neck as he swallows loudly. his eyes occasionally drop down to absorb the act you're putting on for him.

he drops a heavy hand onto your head, pushing your head slightly, making you take him deeper. he smirks, relishing in the choking sounds escaping your breathless moans. your hand comes up to place it on top of his, challenging him.

"oh, yeah," he huffs, interlocking your hands as he pushes your head to sink deeper and deeper with each dip of your head, making your eyes water and muffled noises escape, maintaining your breath through your nose.

he's trying his best to keep the acceleration of the car at one speed, his legs jerking and jolting every so often when he feels the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, making his driving unpredictable.

you feel his head turn and shift, checking his mirrors and blind spots, panicking anytime a car drives past on the opposite side of the road.

the vibrations of your moans combined with the tightness of your throat as you choke around him is sending the sensation straight to his balls, being tightened by his jeans cupping them.

"you're gonna make me fucking crash, sh-shit" he whines, jaw dropping as moans sporadically fall from his tongue.

matt can't take it any longer, yanking you dramatically from his dick, popping your mouth off of him with a wet sound as you coughed into the air, finally gasping a clean breath. your hand instinctively wipes your mouth, covered in his pre-cum and your own saliva.

you look up at him with big eyes, and that sends him absolutely off the rails.

"that was so fucking risky, i can't believe you," matt adjusts his grip, accelerating as he finds a clear patch of a dirt road ahead, aiming for it. your arms leans toward his dashboard, flicking his indicator on for him. you grin mischievously, biting your lip.

"then pull over so you can fuck me properly" you demand, and feel his car swerve instantly as he merges off the asphalt.

he rotates the wheel, one hand over the other in a heavy handed way, to find a safe place to park. the tyres crackle with the texture beneath you changing to gravel. your hand continues to stroke his shaft, mouth drooling with the desire to suck him off again.

matt's abs are clenching hard, back coming off from the seat again with a wince as your thumb rubs the underside of his now wet, sticky, cock.

"baby you're killing me, h-hold on, please," he whimpers, big hand coming down to grip your wrist tight as he frantically tries to put his car in park, heavy pedalling the brake finally.

matt flicks his hazards on, taking precaution even in his most chaotic, desperate state of mind. when the car is secure, your mouth comes down to suckle on his tip, before sliding down the length of his cock again. matt finally drops his shoulders and eases into the seat comfortably, not having the added stress of driving.

"feels so good, holy shit," his eyes clench closed before he exhales, snapping them back open to watch you engulf him again.

slushing and slurping sounds overtake the music playing from the radio and matt chokes on his strained groans.

he knots your hair in his fist to pull you off again, but you continue rotating your wrist around his base. with your hair in his grip, matt pulls you to his face quickly, his jaw slack. there's a dazed look on his face, mesmerised by you as you lock eyes.

"don't stop jerkin' me off, baby" he begs, holding your face close to his, noses almost touching as you breath into each others mouths. you feel your pussy clench and grow more wet at his hopeless tone.

"don't fucking stop." he whispers, crashing your lips together, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue.

the kiss is a mess, and trying to focus on linking your mouths in unison while stroking him passionately prove harder than you anticipate. you break the kiss, needing to watch your hand, but matt grabs your chin to turn you back.

"look at me. i'm s-so close"

"use your manners" you smile, pressing your lips together again, then breaking it, then kissing him again. he interrupts it with a gasp when you start pumping more vigorously.

"s-sorry. please. i need to look at you when i cum. so fucking pretty" he darts his eyes from yours, to your lips, his own lips shiny and perfectly pink.

you want to let him finish as fast as possible, squeezing him and stroking him strenuously, rolling your thumb over his tip and pinching it, getting him overly stimulated and out of breath. your lips brush, but don't fully meet as his breath shakes and he gasps and groans.

your hand is starting to cramp, but you ignore the pain as you fuck his dick with your palm, and matt raises his hand to grip the headrest of the passenger seat beside him, letting his hips adjust and thrust into your touch. "just like that, just like th-that" he cries out, blue eyes glued on yours as he tries not to roll them into the back of his head.

"ugh, fuck," he chokes.

projecting his hips upward as he throws his head back, matt finally releases, making a complete mess into your hand. you attempt to cup his tip, letting his hot, thick cum spray your palm.

the look on his face is pure euphoria, eyes heavy and breathing hitched. he grazes his teeth on your lips, trying to take you into another kiss, but he's occupied letting his orgasm play out. he looks so perfect when he's cumming, and coming down from it.

"feel better, my love?" you ask gently.

waiting for his response, you reach into the glovebox to grab tissues you know he conveniently has stashed, courtesy of it being chris's usual spot, and the mess he often brings to the car.

"i need to get out of these fucking jeans" he complains while readjusting the material of his crotch, making you chuckle as you clean your hand off, tossing the tissue onto the floor mat.

you pick yourself up, awkwardly trying not to collide with the sunroof as you start to climb into the backseat. giving matt a full shot of your ass, he slaps it lazily, still trying to regain his thoughts.

"get back here so i can help you with them" you say as you drop onto the tan coloured leather, leaning into the corner, back hitting the door.

"someone's gonna see us, y/n" he undoes his seatbelt, in contrast of his words.

"matthew, get your ass back here" you disregard his worry, knowing if you don't reassure him, or aren't stern, he'll let his stress consume him, when all you want is to make him feel good.

between the sun almost being fully set, the lack of liveliness surrounding you and the solid twenty percent on the glass, you're certain not a single soul would notice or care for what's bound to happen in the backseat.

"messin' with me all day and now you're giving orders" he ridicules, turning in his spot to brace the crawl into the back with you.

he shoots a glare at you as he supports himself, trying to keep stable. he presses his palm to the upholstered roof.

"and you're taking them, like a good boy" you affirm, starting to slide off your own pants, and panties, spread wide open by the time matt lowers himself to you.

"fuck" he lets out at the sight of you.

his knees are on the seat between your legs, and he shuffles his pants further and further down his thighs, hurrying to free himself.

he drops back onto his ass with an 'umph' sound, needing to get his jeans to his ankles, and when you strip free of your own lower half, you tug his off completely, throwing them into the front seat.

there's a considerable amount of room in the back, having the luxury of a mini van in your favour.

you scoot over to matt, who's man spreading, and stroking himself slowly. it only takes minutes before he's growing hard again, and you situate yourself on his lap.

his hands come to grip your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly, making you feel so small in his touch. he slides under the fabric of your shirt, and you help him remove it. your arms clash and collide with the roof, both of you giggling at the restriction.

he's looking at you like you're fuel to light a fire between his legs again, and it doesn't take long before he's erect, and all you want is to be filled.

"you just couldn't wait, huh?" he teases as he flicks hair off your neck, seeing it stick to your skin from the sweat forming.

you place your hands over his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to his chest. your exposed cunt is soaked already, and he knows he needs to feel you in the state you're in.

matt brings one hand between your legs, letting it brush up between your folds. he hums in delight, sliding through you with ease. you suck in a shaky breath as the tip of his middle finger traces over your pulsating clit, giving a light circling motion.

he arches his middle and ring finger underneath your entrance, palm to the sky.

"sink onto my fingers, baby" he directs, and you rise in your straddling position to align yourself perfectly.

slowly but surely, you let yourself get stretched out by his touch. his other hand is occupied by his own cock. he curls inside of you, grazing your inner wall.

you toss your head back and allow yourself to revel in the sensation. it feels good, but you need more. you grind onto his fingers, and matt notices your impatience.

he pulls you off him without hesitation and manhandles you, taking control by grabbing your waist and lining you up over his cock.

"this is what you wanted all day. isn't it, baby?" he tests. you nod eagerly.

you feel his plump tip tickle your pussy, a touch too light for your liking. you try to sway your hips, to gain anymore friction, but he has full advantage to start teasing you back now.

"fuck, please matt," you finally spit out, not having any desire to mess around anymore. being exactly what he needed to hear, he drops you onto his cock, a heavy and loud slap as your ass hits his thighs.

you lean back, gripping his knees, arching your back. finally being filled, you moan and squeak through tight teeth. letting out strained 'ohhh's' and 'fuck, yes, yes' on repeat, like a broken record.

"you ride my dick so fucking good" he slaps your ass, hard, making your body jolt as you bounce up and down.

your hands become unsteady, and you reposition to press up against the glass window. the windows are hazing over with steam. they're turning from black to grey, leaving a very distinct hand print. one matt probably has no intention of wiping clean.

matt starts kissing your neck every time your head drops to the side with pleasure, impossible not to whimper when he started nibbling on it. he gets more satisfaction out of watching you, giving you what you want.

“matt” you moan out his name, biting your lip after, trying not to make much noise. it's a natural instinct as you're usually never this far away from being heard.

“yes?” he asks. smartass. his beard tickles your skin as he rubs against you, inhaling your scent and the salty taste of your skin.

“i'm close, s-so close” you stutter.

you vigorously shake your head, trying your best to hold off your impending orgasm. he forces your hips further down onto his dick, driving you closer to the edge.

he pulls you into a deep, slow kiss for a few seconds and pulls away with your bottom lip in between his teeth. he starts tugging and pulling at your nipples with his fingers while using his tongue everywhere else, licking your chest and biting marks.

your core tightens and you gasp, giving matt a silent look that tells him you're about to release. you know he'll demand you look at him as you do so, so you take his jaw in your hand, probably grabbing a little too aggressively, but he doesn't seem to mind.

you hold eye-contact as you pull your faces close. you roll down onto him with all your weight, feeling his dick twitch inside you, and let yourself climax, hips jittery and weak. if matt wasn't holding you, you'd collapse.

he slides you off slowly, both of you watching the loss of contact happen. matt lays you down beside him as you catch your breath. you're both trying to escape your delirious states, sitting it total silence for a moment in the suddenly overwhelmingly hot car.

your faces are covered in sweat, and you're convinced you've been the least desirable that you have been all day. matt makes those thoughts disappear the moment turns to look at you, slouched in his seat, and huffs out a smile.

he slaps your thigh, using a grip on you to help him sit up. you love the afterglow plastered on his face, the interior light casts an orange shadow, and matt is looking at you with admiration.

"don't ever tease me like that again. not unless you want me to get into a car accident." he pants.

"no promises, knowing that's what it gets me." you giggle while turning into the seat, knowing you've been stirring the pot all day.

"shut up." he laughs.

end.

tag list: @luverboychris @recklessmatt @floofparker @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @fake-sturniolos

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: You don't want to share a bed with Pietro. He wants nothing more than to share one with you.

Prompt: one bed - "Don't bite your lip, bite mine."

Warnings: again, I use Czech as 'Sokovian', swearing, flirty!pietro, anxious!reader

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

"Which asshole gave Pietro and me a room with only one bed!" you hiss, standing in the small living corner that is in the hotel, your arms crossed.

Steve and Tony glance up from their m friendly game of pool while Natasha smirks from where she is on the couch. Wanda, who is watching Steve and Tony's game, laughs and you snap your head around to glare at her. 

"What's so funny? Can't I switch with you? He's your brother!"

Wanda shakes her head, still smiling. "Rooms are rooms."

You huff. You're not stupid. Everyone on the team thinks you and Pietro have some romantic thing going on, which means they'd most likely done this on purpose.

"Well, fuck you all," you say and storm back into the elevator, angrily making your way up to your hotel room again. 

You open the door and almost slam into Pietro, who is walking out of the bathroom, with only a towel loosely hung around his hips.

He curses in Sokovian as his eyes widen. "Miláček (Sweetheart)," he says, finally registering it's only you, and that familiar annoying play-boy smirk curls his lips. 

"I leave you alone for barely five minutes and you've already finished your shower?" you ask in disbelief, ignoring how water still drips down his torso and over his toned abs.

Pietro makes it so damn hard to be mad at him when he looks this good. 

"I'm quick," he shrugs and walks by you, ruffling your hair with a grin. He turns and walks into the main room, calling out behind him, "Plus, now you have more time to shower yourself. You're welcome, Princezna (Princess)."

You roll your eyes and storm into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you pretend you're not completely flustered by him or his pet names. 

Once you've finished your shower, you leave the bathroom dressed in your pajamas. Your hair is dried and brushed and your skin smells like the vanilla body wash you'd used.

Pietro is lying on the right side of the bed, his arms folded behind his head as he watches a comedy movie and chuckles along. 

He perks up when he sees you and smiles. "Hey, drahoušek (darling)," he says, his voice hoarse and raspy. 

"That's three," you hum and walk over cautiously, sitting on the other end of the queen-sized bed, staring at Pietro like he's some scary unknown. "You have any more cheesy pet names I can't understand up your sleeve, Maximoff?" 

Pietro chuckles, very amused. "How do you know they're cheesy if you can't understand them, moje srdce (my heart)."

You narrow your eyes at him defiantly. "I just know," you say. "I know you."

Pietro hums and looks at you, his silver hair falling over his icy blue eyes for a moment. "Wanna finish the movie?" he asks. 

You shake your head and climb under the blanket. You hear Pietro's laugh and then he turns off the T.V. He speeds up to turn off the lights, tucking himself into the bed next to you in a blur. His body feels so warm, so close, and your head spins as you try to stay as far away from him as possible. You hate these feelings. You hate them more than anything. 

"Princezna (Princess)?"

You tense. 

"Y-yeah?"

You hear the shifting of sheets and then he's even closer, his hand coming up from behind to brush some strands of your hair as his fingertips then linger on your cheek. "Look at me, will you?" he asks seriously. 

You hesitate, not wanting to turn around. Pietro hums again and whispers something in Sokovian in your ear. His breath is warm on your skin and as if in a trance, you turn around. Your noses almost touch, causing your eyes to widen. The curtains aren't drawn closed so you can see him easily in the moonlight. 

He's gorgeous. 

You bite your lip, the action almost uncontrollable. 

Pietro's gaze hardens and without much thinking, he leans in and takes your chin in his hand, kissing your lips. In the process, he opens your mouth to disconnect your teeth from your lips as he deepens the kiss. As startled as you are, you kiss him back and pull him closer to you. No lips have ever felt softer than his.

Pietro pulls away after a moment and grins. "Don't bite your lip, next time drahoušek (darling), bite mine." 

His words cause you to halt, your body feeling weak as you look at him with wide eyes and a shiver runs through you when his thumb traces your lips.

You find yourself nodding, your shyness appearing as you realize Pietro fucking Maxmioff had just kissed you—while in the same bed—you know have to share.

Pietro is looking at you like he adores you, his eyes tracing every blemish and insecurity on your face with a look that makes your heart flutter.

"I like you," he tells you. "A lot." 

Your mind is unable to conjure up any coherent words but it's screaming at you to return the feelings. 

"You don't need to tell me now, Princezna (Princess)," he whispers and kisses your forehead. "Miluji tě (I love you)," he adds, knowing you can't understand him. His arm wraps around you and you let him, nuzzling into him. His chest fills with pride.

Your mind has only calmed down a little, or calmed down enough, that the one thing you can think is thank god for the team and their weird sense of intuition. 

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @princesssunderworld, @lqrlei, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese

[ace-turned-confused]

spin me around | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist | read on ao3

summary: you find a vintage record store full of rare finds, the man behind the counter the rarest of them all word count: 2,4k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied & wears a dress, way too much music talk, food & alcohol consumption, pet names, touching in public, dirty talk a/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! i saw record store on your wheel and ran away with it - this is highly self-indulgent with the music references (like woah) but what better place for it than secret springs :) not beta'd, keep slaying

The stair treads creak as you head up to the second floor, blank CDs are fastened to the risers and old warped vinyl hangs from the ceiling. A faint melody floats down the stairwell that you don’t recognise, the instrumentals rising in a crescendo as you climb, the varnished railing worn and knotted.

You’d found this place online on your quest for a bargain, the secondhand vintage vinyl shop is situated on a fashionable street at the top of town with picturesque mountain views. After stalking their social media pages, you decided you’d just come and see it for yourself. Having mentally prepared yourself for parallel parking, it was unusually stress-free for a Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to warm the air.

Reaching the landing and glancing around, the room is essentially wallpapered with band posters, crates and crates of records are alphabetically organised, and a gallery of LPs sits on shelves behind the counter. A few customers are rifling through the various collections, one man perched on a barstool with headphones wired into a cassette player. The space is light and vibrant, it feels like a sacred haven.

What really catches your eye is the man behind the counter — unruly silver-streaked hair, trimmed moustache and greying beard, unreasonably broad shoulders that fill out his faded thin t-shirt.

“Mornin’!” He looks up as you round the bannister and flashes you a winning smile, his brown eyes sparkling in the light filtering through the windows. “Anythin’ in particular you lookin’ for?”

You greet him shyly as you enter the room, “Just came to look around, thanks.”

“No problem.” He turns back to his newspaper and you can’t help but stare, stuck in place as you think you’ve found far more than you could’ve imagined.

-

The sheer number of records fitted into the quaint shop is amazing, with some dividers spilling over into two or three boxes. Flipping through the S category, you find Sade, Stealers Wheel, Steppenwolf, Stevie Nicks, and countless others — a never-ending supply of artists and albums, some popular and some obscure.

Your eyes go wide at seeing Pretzel Logic, a favourite album by a favourite band. You’ve considered for weeks whether or not to just buy the damn thing online at full price, but you never did. Now you see why, some sort of divine intervention leading you here to snatch it up at a fraction of the cost — or it led you here for that man.

You’ve been peering over to him every time you move to the next crate — crinkles around his eyes, plush lips, deft hands. It’s almost unfair how beautiful he is, hidden away up here from the rest of the world. Admittedly you tried looking if he had a wedding band on, but you scolded yourself before you could complete the task, not wanting to get caught.

Time slips away from you as you switch between scouring through everything and stealing glances at the mystery music man, your fingers cramping from holding onto far more records than you’d planned to take. You scan over the tables and check for anything you may have missed, slinking through the room and placing your selection on the counter. You rummage in your bag to find your wallet.

“Fan of Steely Dan, huh? Gaucho, Pretzel Logic, Countdown to Ecstasy… You’re cleaning me out here, darlin’.” You lift your head at his words, losing yourself at the endearment.

“Yeah, uh… couldn't help myself,” you huff a laugh, feeling heat under your skin as he keeps his attention on you, a half smile on his face. “I did pick out some others, too. For some variation, you know?”

He fans the records out on the table to see each one.

“Yeah, thought you might be a Fleetwood Mac girl, Eagles is a bit of a surprise, but a pleasant one… Steely Dan, though? Wouldn't have pinned a girl like you as a fan of ‘em.”

“A girl like me…?”

“Far too pretty.” He winks at you with a tilt of his head, that half smile now spread fully across his face before he moves to add up the total. Your mind races as you try not to stand and gawk like an idiot.

“I saw online you had Dark Side of the Moon… do you uh, still have it, by any chance?”

“Full of surprises… I’m afraid we sold that one already, noticed it’s a bit of an elusive find ‘round here.” He drums his fingers against the wooden top and looks at you briefly, his eyes warm.

Shuffling papers around, he picks up a notepad, big hands and thick fingers dwarfing the pages. “I can keep an eye out for you, if you’re okay giving me your number? Won’t bother you, just business.”

“Yeah, sure.” His fingers graze across your skin as you take a pen from him and write down your information. Tearing the page off, you slide it across the counter and tease him, “Wouldn’t mind if you bothered me.”

“Well then, maybe I will. I’d love to know what else you got in your carefully curated collection.” He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you pay for the records, and he slips them into a brown paper bag, folding and unfolding the top like he doesn’t want you to leave.

“There’s actually this nice restaurant—” he turns to look behind him, grabbing a small carton and repositioning it on the counter, stalling as he tries to find the words, “—they have uh, live music on Friday nights… if you’d be interested.”

“Sounds fun…” You mull it over, impressed by his boldness but still wary. “Can I let you know?”

“‘Course, no pressure, here,” he writes his own number on a new page and tears it off, holding on as you reach for it and brush your fingers over his hand.

“And you are?”

“Joel Miller.”

Joel Miller. You quite like that.

-

You’d stared at Joel’s number for days, a constant back and forth on whether or not you should go. On the one hand, you knew nothing about this man except his name and where he worked; on the other, you’ve seen just enough of him to be well intrigued… 

You caved and said yes, which brings you to the present day — it’s Friday afternoon and you’re pacing in front of your wardrobe, worried about what to wear. To avoid losing your mind over this, you text Joel for some insight.

You: So, what am I supposed to wear tonight?Joel: Place is smart casual, I guess

Smart casual — arguably the worst fucking dress code description in existence.

You: That doesn’t help meJoel: Just wear a dress or something nice? I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect

Perfect? Well, that certainly raises the bar. You suspect that Joel isn’t impressed by material things, and isn’t phased by flashy appearances, but you still want to make an effort. He called you pretty once already and you’re hoping he’ll repeat it tonight.

-

Approaching the restaurant, the brick wall facade is lined with fairy lights, the stars just beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, and muffled music sounds through the windows and glass doors.

Joel waits out on the pavement like a gift from God himself — black dress pants, a hint of chest peeking out from behind his button-up, a blazer hooked on one finger over his shoulder. You can’t help the way your gaze runs over him, noticing how his tummy just pokes out past the waistband of his pants, and just how well fitting those pants really are. You swallow to steady yourself.

“Hey.”

“Hi…”

You fall into silence as you take each other in — a low heat settles at the base of your spine and you drop your eyes to the floor, holding back a giggle like an enamoured schoolgirl.

“Shall we?” He pulls the door open and gestures for you to lead the way, eyes sparkling and a crooked but warm smile on his face, a guiding hand on the small of your back as you step inside.

Black-framed minimalist posters line the walls, the floors are polished dark wood and exposed brass light fixtures hang at varying heights from the ceiling. You pass a long, elegant bar lining one side of the room as you’re led towards the back of the restaurant — this place oozes sophistication, even the waitstaff are in fancy uniforms. Not smart casual.

Joel pulls a chair out for you as you reach your table, a small reserved card rests against a floating candle and two red roses bloom in a slender vase. 

“Do you mind if I take the wall?” you ask timidly, pointing towards the opposite bench.

“Not at all.” His gaze is soft as he shakes his head, eyes trained on you as you both take your seats.

“I just— I like being able to see, it’s uh…”

You smooth your hands over the tablecloth as your voice fades off, resisting the urge to make a game of blowing the candle out. You flit your eyes up to look at Joel, finding he’s already staring at you, candlelight flickering in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the table again, failing dismally at suppressing the grin that spreads across your face.

“You look gorgeous, by the way — if you don’t mind me sayin’. Knew you would, of course, but…”

It seems your outfit choice has paid off — gorgeous?

After hours of flinging clothes off hangers, you’d finally settled on a black, mid-length dress — a sweetheart neckline with white piping, the same white mirrored on the hem, a daring slit up one side of the skirt. There’s nothing casual about it, but seeing Joel dressed up and the finely decorated restaurant has calmed your nerves.

You don’t dare look at him again as the waiter returns and places two menus on the table. The night’s barely begun, and you hope it doesn’t end any time soon.

-

There hasn’t been a lull in the conversation once during dinner, a sharing dessert now in the centre of the table as Joel swirls what’s left of his whiskey around the glass. He held back all evening, fingers twitching and curling into a loose fist alongside yours on the table until he finally allowed himself to dance them across the back of your hand.

“How’d you get into all this record business?”

“Started workin’ there on weekends as a kid, wanted to earn some pocket money. The old man who owned it was like a mentor, he taught me all about the world. He left it all in my hands when he retired, and I’ve never looked back.”

A fond smile on his face as he retells his memories, you saw the first day you met how happy and comfortable he was in his charming shop, and it seems that charm bleeds over into him, too.

“And you get to meet all kinds of people — loud, friendly, aloof… pretty ones, too.” He gives you the same wink and devilish grin as before, continuing his stories as if you aren’t burning across the table.

-

Sometime during the night, he’d moved to sit next to you, claiming he ‘wanted to see the band’ — the arm draped on the bench behind you and fingers trailing across your shoulder says otherwise.

He mentioned at the shop that there was live music here on Friday nights — the one thing he didn’t mention? That tonight’s particular band was a jazz quartet — the slow, smooth, romantic kind of jazz, the kind that acts as the perfect backdrop for a night of cheeky flirting, lingering glances and desperate touches.

“Joel, can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

You roll the edge of the tablecloth between your fingers. “Is this a date?”

“It can be, if you want.” You drop your hands and eye him, unimpressed by his response.

“Alright, I’ll admit, I was hopin’ for a date. I wasn’t really sure how to ask, didn’t wanna come on too strong.”

You’re silent for a beat, considering how to respond. “I mean, you could’ve just asked.”

“Well then, you wanna go on a date?” He tilts his head, eyebrows raised.

“I thought we were already on one.”

He chuckles at your remark, downing the last of his whiskey and momentarily tracing a finger along the rim of the glass. You focus on his movements, imagining his fingers tracing patterns into your skin instead.

As if he can read your mind, he twists himself towards you and plants that same hand just above your knee, fingers curled towards the inside of your leg as he scrapes his nails against you.

“And?” His voice is almost a whisper in your ear, “Has it been a good one?”

He glides his hand up your leg and into the slit of your dress as you nod, higher, higher, higher until his fingers brush against lace. You wonder if he can feel the fabric dampening.

“Y’know the Pink Floyd you asked about? It wasn’t sold, I kept it for myself. I’ll play it for you sometime.”

“You’re gonna talk about music? Right now?”

“What should I talk about instead? The delicate panties you got on? How wet they’re getting?”

Your breath hitches as he shifts his fingers, tucking them just under the edge of your panties and caressing your skin. Glancing around, the band are still playing low and slow, most tables having cleared out by now.

“Would love to see ‘em, if you’ll let me. I’d really love to see what’s underneath though. Pretty girl like you’s bound to have a real pretty pussy, too. Certainly feels like it, Jesus.”

He presses his fingers into you with more force this time and you turn your head to him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and not from the dim lighting. He glances down to your lips and back up to your eyes again and you close the distance between you. He repositions the arm around your shoulders, hand holding the back of your neck as you lock your legs together and grind yourself against him.

His lips are soft, beard and moustache tickling your skin as he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth. You moan into him as you part your lips, letting him lick into you and you can taste his whiskey. He pulls back and you whine, teasing you with just enough to leave you reeling for more.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Take me home, Joel. Please, I need you.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna hear the music you can make.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki part 2

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: i was fighting for my life while writing this 😭 pray for her (and me while i write... part 3? HEHE)

part one part three

You made your way up the fire escape, the cold air and icy railing nipping at the bare skin of your neck and face for the short travel up a level.

From outside of his window, you took a second to admire the scene. Tenko was sitting criss crossed on the couch while cradling a beer in his lap, and directly across from him is Spinner on the ottoman with their switches out- in which you could only assume was playing super smash bros. Toga was at the kitchen bar taste testing Kurogiri's mixed drinks, and everyone else plus a few more unfamiliar faces were drunkenly draped over the couch, laughing at one another.

You continue peering around the room for Touya. No one else had noticed your presence outside the window quite yet.

"Looking for someone?" A deep voice snaps you from your search.

You look up to see Touya sitting on a step another level up.

"God, Touya." You shutter from the cold breeze. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Needed some air." He shrugs, crinkling a bottle of water in his hands. "Not going inside?"

You climb your way up to him, taking a seat right beside him. In the moonlight, his silver hair glowed blue, and at a closer look, the tip of his nose and cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Was just about to before you ambushed me." You smile at his tipsy state. "How much have you drank?" You pressed a hand to his cheek, making him melt into it from the warmth.

"Enough, and not enough at the same time." He chuckles, grabbing your remaining hand and pressing it against his other cheek.

"Fuck, you're warm." A sigh of relief escapes his lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

Fuck

You had just told Toga that you were done running in circles around him, but in this moment with the buzzing lamp post drilling into your head and his swollen lips mere inches from yours, it was almost an offer you couldn't turn down. Do you close the gap between you two and continue this charade or will you end it now?

In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to make this decision now- you wouldn't ever have to, but you loved him. Desperately.

You looked at him, deeply. His bloodshot and glossy eyes, an effect of the alcohol, were peering right into yours while waiting for your answer.

You could savor this forever- a rare moment where he's the one waiting for you.

After a beat of silence, he sensed your hesitation and leaned back, searching your face for an answer for your off behavior, because Touya knew that the answer would've always been a yes- undeniably so.

"What's wrong?"

I love you.

"Nothing." You force a reassuring smile. "Why?"

"I don't know. You looked like you were about to cry for a second there." He moves his hand to your face now, rubbing his ice cold thumbs against your cheek. "Maybe I'm just drunk." He smiles.

He pulls your head in to press a kiss on your hairline. "Also, I saw Fuyumi today. She said hey."

"I'll text her later." You couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth knowing that you came up in conversation with his sister.

"Were you not gonna come tonight?"

"Hmmm I don't think so" You casually say "I was kinda busy, but the fomo was kicking."

"Works out in my favor." He chuckles. "You wanna go inside? Toga said she was expecting you."

He starts standing up, gripping onto the railing to stabilize himself. With his other hand, he extends it out for you.

"Yeah I owe her a shot. That is, if she's not already fucked up." You grab onto his hand and hoist yourself up.

"In that case, I'll cash in the shot in her place." He wraps his arm around your waist, helping you down the frosty steps.

Once you made it through the window, your body instantly warmed up with the thick air of the apartment. Across from the kitchen, Toga spots you and squeals to herself, motioning for you to come to her.

"Kurogiri's been showing me how to make drinks!" She grins, panning her arm to the array of mixed drinks and shots sitting on the counter.

"Christ, Toga who's going to drink all that?" Touya mutters behind you as he moves into the kitchen.

"Y/N and I, duh!" She rolls her eyes before passing you a glass with a shots worth of pale pink liquid.

You swallowed your hesitation and glanced over to Touya, who was leaning up against the refrigerator watching you with a slight smile.

Seeing his pretty face was not a good reminder for yourself as to why you were here in the first place. Nonetheless, you and Toga clink your glasses together and down the first shot.

You cough into your sleeve, letting the burn warm your skin and help settle into your nerves. You shoot her a warning glance when she slides another drink into your hands.

"Oh so you're trying to kill me tonight, huh?" You down the new drink, pinching your nose as the lukewarm liquid burns its way down your throat. You slide the empty glass to her just for her to replace it with more alcohol.

"If there's one way to cure a sad girl, it's alcohol." Toga clinks your glasses together before finishing off her's.

"I only promised you one shot!" You pushed the glass away. "I'm a lightweight, let me take a breather unless you want me on my ass in half an hour."

"Okay fine" She pouts. "Just finish this one and we'll stop."

You grimaced, but she shot you a knowing look. You needed this. You needed a night to not think and worry about repercussions later.

"Fuck you." You sigh, clinking your glass with her. "And I love you."

After the last shot, your head clouded and your skin went hot. You pulled out a bar stool to sit and propped your head in your hands, watching Toga and Kurogiri talk about the mixtures and types of alcohol they were experimenting with.

Maybe the last shot was overkill, but 3 shots in 5 minutes meant that you'll be sober in a couple hours? You hoped so, at least.

"If she starts throwing up, I'm gonna kick everyone out." Touya jokes.

"You think I'm done?" Toga starts. "Touya, you have to finish the rest of these drinks with me."

Touya kept his distance on the other side of the the kitchen, chatting and drinking with Kurogiri and Toga all while glancing your way every now and then.

You were confident that everyone in this apartment knew about your entanglement with Touya, but with any outings and functions, PDA and other romantic gestures were kept to a minimum. You kept your distance, but this last shot started to feel like you needed a moment alone with Touya.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

At some point when the alcohol had fully settled in your stomach, you decided to get up and wander around the apartment while everyone else was occupied.

You slowly go through the main hallway, looking at the framed band posters hung up that you had seen about a hundred times.

At the end of the hall, there was your favorite piece of decoration he had- a framed photo of him and his high school garage band at one of their practices. His hair was dyed midnight black and his jeans were all sorts of torn up and embellished with spikes and chains. Every time you came over, you had to look at it at least once. You always told him that you wished you met him at this age, and that he could've broken your heart, but he insists that he would've never been able to pull you in the first place.

You continue your walk, staying close to the wall to keep your balance before you finally made it to his bedroom. You step in and takes deep breath, savoring the crisp pine and green apple that lingered from his cologne.

If you had been sober, you probably wouldn't be bold enough to sneak off to his bedroom in the middle of the get together, but you were sure that he would rather you lay in his bed than the bathroom floor.

You flop down and close your eyes for a moment of solitude. You made a mental note to curse Toga out for getting you this tipsy when it was only supposed to be one drink.

"How did I know I could find you here?"

You instantly recognized the voice and the chuckle that paired with it.

"Shut up." You muttered, keeping your eyes closed. "If you didn't let me drink so much, I wouldn't have to crash here."

"So sorry, pretty girl. My fault." You feel the bed shift as he crawls onto the bed to sit beside you. "I brought something for you."

You open your eyes and sit up to see him holding out a red solo cup. You shoot him a glare.

"It's water, before you say anything."

You release a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

You downed the water in one go, letting the cold liquid bring you back to life. You lean over to set the empty cup on his bedside table before letting yourself lay back down. Touya follows suit, propping himself up on his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" He brings his hand up to your cheek, lightly brushing away stray hairs.

You nodded your head, letting yourself soak in his light touches. Looking up at him from this angle made your stomach twist. You reached up and held his hand on your cheek, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles.

"Can I have a kiss?" You turned towards him, propping yourself up to face him.

He smiles and leans in, pressing a soft and gentle kisses on your lips and cheeks.

"Should I kick everyone out?" He whispers between kisses. "Just you and me tonight. I'll take care of you."

"Aren't you drunk too?" You prop yourself up, leaning over him and making him fall back on the bed.

"Yeah but not multiple-shots-in-the-span-of-2-seconds drunk like you."

You drag your finger down his nose bridge, tracing it down to his lips where he gives your finger a kiss. You replace your finger with you own lips, letting your hand fall to cup the side of his neck.

"Say the word and all of those fuckers will be out of here." He silently mutters against your lips.

In your mind, you were screaming at yourself. You wanted the night with him, but you couldn't bear doing this to yourself anymore. Every night spent with him and watching him leave through your window made your self worth crumble bit by bit.

"Enticing offer." You smile, sitting upright now. "But I think I might have to throw up."

His eyes widen in fear. "And you're telling me this now?"

He sits up and hops off the bed, pulls you off with him by the arms. "Idiot. Sweet, beautiful idiot." He presses a kiss to your temple before ushering you to his bathroom.

He helps you kneel down in front of the toilet before running out to grab more water.

You sit there for a moment before dry heaving into the toilet a few times. Nothing. With every cough, you cringed at yourself. Here you were, at a party you didn't even want to go to, gagging in the bathroom of someone who doesn't love you back.

You knew you truly didn't have to throw up, maybe just gag it out a bit, but you mainly needed to step away from Touya to clear your mind. Tomorrow, when you would have to tell Toga about how you folded is going to be a whole separate issue for you after tonight.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a glistening black rectangular object lay next to his trash can. You reach over to grab it, revealing itself to be a tube of berry red lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach, but for a different reason now.

In your drunken state and the alcohol running through your veins, you felt yourself choking up with tears. You knew you weren't the only one, but now that it was right in your face, there was no more pretending that you were. God, how stupid you felt.

"Get it together, Y/N. It was never going to work out." You thought to yourself.

You began to stand up, stumbling while doing so. Right as you steady yourself on the the door frame, Touya comes back in with a glass of water in his hands.

"Done already?" He asked, peering over your shoulder to see the damage.

You say nothing and move around him to get pass He sets the glass down and grabs your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?" His eyes widened once he see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He says a bit quieter.

You choked out a laugh before showing him the object in your palm. "One of your girlfriends left this."

He gives you a puzzled look. "Okay? And you're upset over this? Why?"

"Are you serious, Touya? You're asking me why I'm upset over finding another girl's lipstick in your bathroom." You purse your lips,

He runs a hand through his hair, and releases a long sigh of air. "Y/N. This thing between us...it's casual. You know that. You can't get mad at me for that when we both agreed to it."

"Casual?" You spit back. "Is it casual that you're always coming to my window at 12am to fuck and talk about our futures? Is it casual when your siblings invite me over for dinner? Is it casual when you leave your front door open for me?" You exclaim. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

You storm out of his room to find that his apartment empty of your friends. He wasn't lying earlier, after all.

"Come on, Y/N." He follows you out "We were friends before anything else. In the beginning, Toga told me that you had a little crush on me, and I thought it was cute, but I didn't think it would turn out like this."

You make your way to the window, almost ready to jump out from embarrassment. A crush.. a little crush.

You rub your face in your hands. "You see, that's the problem, Touya. I think I'm in love with you, and you think I'm cute. Is it still casual?"

You step out onto the fire escape, and look back at him. This whole time you were avoiding his gaze, but there he was, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open watching you disappear from his fire escape for the last time.

tags: @bumblebeebutter @whitneys-favorite-slut @randomrosie01 @yuwuuta @raquel-star @the2ndl @vixendeery

[kakashisbabymama218]

Late Night

Kakashi x Fem!reader

smut, unprotected sex, riding, oral, cum eating, overstimulation

its late when Kakashi returns from his mission, nearing 3 am and he knows your asleep, but he's been half hard all day thinking about you so he can't help himself as he says his goodbyes to his team and heads in the direction of his apartment, wanting to shower before he sees you.

its an hour later when the copy ninja begins his walk to your apartment. he walks quickly, your apartment coming into view minutes later and he goes up the stairs three at a time until he's standing in front of your door. he rummages in his bag for the spare key you gave him months ago, letting himself in and locking the door behind himself. he toes off his shoes at the door, setting his bag down too.

he's light on his feet as he walks towards your bedroom, noticing the door is cracked slightly, a sliver of light shining out into the hallway. he pushes the door open wider, wincing when it creaks loudly. a single eye flicks over towards your still sleeping figure and kakashi releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. he walks over to your bed, watching as you sleep peacefully, the corner of your lip twitching as you smile in your sleep.

he bends down until his face is directly in front of yours. your lips are parted slightly and he can feel your breath on his lips every time you exhale. his mask has already been pulled down, so he doesn't waste anytime and presses his soft lips against yours. you stir slightly but remain asleep.

"y/n" he calls out, shaking you gently. "y/n, wake up" he tries again, this time louder. he watches as your eyes flutter open, blinking once, then twice as your vision clears.

"kakashi? is that you?" you ask with a yawn, immediately recognizing the familiar strands of silver even in the dark.

"yeah, its me. i missed you and i couldn't wait till tomorrow. sorry for waking you up"

"i missed you too" you tell him, sitting up in your bed and reaching over to turn on the light. you groan at the sudden brightness, blinking repeatedly as your eyes adjust to the light.

kakashi takes a moment to take in everything about you. from your messy, bed hair and the dried up drool on the side of your mouth. to the thin, sorry excuse of pajamas that do hardly anything to cover up that perfect body of yours, your nipples hard from the cold air circulating throughout the room.

you can't help but let your eyes roam over his body too, noticing the way his shirt seems to be tighter around his biceps than it was before he left, and the ghosting of a beard that covers his face. you know it'll be gone the first thing in the morning, so you'll give yourself the next few hours to appreciate it, wanting nothing more than to feel that rough stubble tickling your thighs as he eats you out later.

you've only seen kakashi with facial hair maybe once or twice, on his rare off days when he wants to do nothing more than lay in bed with you, your legs intertwined as your fingers play in his hair. each time you couldn't help but let your fingers linger on the stubble, giggling at the roughness as you rub your cheek against his chin.

"fuck i missed you" kakashi says before his lips are on yours, moaning at the sweet taste of your lips, the familiar taste of the cherry chapstick you applied before bed lingers on his tongue as he lets it swipe against your bottom lip.

your lips part in a quiet moan and kakashi takes the chance to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue slip into your mouth.

"kashi" you whine when kakashi brings one of his hands down to your chest, flicking his thumb over one of your erect nipples before pinching it lightly.

within seconds kakashi has switched places with you, his back is pressed against your headboard with his legs spread out in front of him. you're straddling his thighs, hands pressed firmly against his chest.

kakashi's big hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you back and forth along his covered cock. pink, plump lips parting slightly as he lets out a hum of pleasure now that his aching cock is getting a little relief.

within minutes the two of you are both naked, kakashi's hands exploring the expanse of your body. his hands grip your waist, pulling you against his chest as his hands move down to your ass, rubbing and groping it. he lands a hard slap on your ass and you cry out at the sting.

"c'mon baby, wan' you to ride me" kakashi mumbles against your skin as he bites down on your neck "wanna see your tits bounce as you fuck yourself on my dick"

you whine at that, still not use to the way kakashi can turn you into a whining, whimpering, mess with nothing but a couple of soft-spoken words.

you can tell kakashi missed you because he was usually so adamant about prepping you to take his length, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue before he even thought about sinking into those warm, velvety walls of yours.

but he's been away from you too long to waste anymore time not being seethed into your cunt.

you're arms are wrapped around Kakashi's neck, head pressed against his chest as you slowly sink down on his cock.

"nggh-- fuckkkkk" you whine at the stretch, not having anything but a couple of fingers inside of you for the past couple of weeks that he's been away.

"shit baby, its like this pussy got tighter while i was gone" you're only half way down and yet impossibly full. "almost there. just a little bit more, i know you can do it"

its the way he encourages you softly that has you finally sitting all the down.

you give yourself a few minutes to adjust to the stretch before your sliding out until nothing but his tip is still inside, before sinking back down. kakashi

"were you always this big? its like I can feel you in my throat" you breath out, slowly circling your hips. you feel the vibrations against your head when Kakashi laughs quietly.

kakashi moves to lay down flat on the bed and you cant help the gasp that slips past your lips as his cock pushes in deeper inside you.

kakashi lays back, his head resting on the arms folded under his head as he lets your take control, fucking yourself on his dick however you please.

you lift yourself up on shaky knees, hands pressed firmly against kakashi’s chest to steady yourself as you begin riding him, pulling out until nothing but his fat tip is inside of you and slamming right back down. the stretch burns but its quickly overtaken by pleasure as you find a steady rhythm.

kakashi watches as the pleasure takes over you, your mouth falls agape, eyes closed as you rock yourself back and forth on his dick. one of his hands move up to your chest, taking one of your nipples between his fingers, tugging and twisting on the hardened nub before doing the same thing with the other one.

your hands move to rest on kakashi's leg as you begins grinding your hips down against his, crying out when his tip repeatedly hits that sensitive spot inside of you.

kakashi can tell when you begin to get tired, hips slowing down so he decides to help you out. he pulls you down flush against his chest, arms wrapped around you as he plants his feet on the bed below him and begins fucking up into you, hard.

"oooh fuuuuckkkk" you moan, feeling that familiar tightening in your belly. your hand snakes between your bodies, instantly finding your swollen clit and rubbing erratic circles as you begin to tip over the edge.

"m'close" you tell him.

"shit" kakashi curses when he feels your walls tighten around him, sucking him in so tightly as if you never want him to leave. "me too, wanna feel you cum around me"

"gonna let me fill you up?" the question is mumbled against your shoulder, his pace never slowing. you nod your head frantically, wanting nothing more than to feel kakashi's warm seed inside of you, filling you up until you smell like him again.

"fuck i'm cumming" he grunts and you feel the thick spurts of cum shooting inside of you.

he gives the two of you a few moments to come back down to earth, lips pressing soft kisses along your sticky skin.

kakashi pulls out slowly and immediately moves until his face is between your legs. the first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive cunt has you attempting to close your legs, squeezing his head between your thighs.

strong hands push your legs apart as he resumes what he was doing, tongue licking up the mixture of both of you that drips from your gaping hole.

the sounds your making only spurs him on and he wants nothing more than for you to cum on his tongue. he takes your clit into his mouth, ignoring the choked gasp that slips past your lips as your overly sensitive clit is sucked and licked.

"its too much kashi" you whine out, hands pushing and pulling on his silver strands but kakashi doesn't even budge.

"just one more, then we can go to sleep okay? just cum for me one more time"

I WROTE THIS, ME MYSELF AND I!!! dont steal my shit!!!!!

[crestapex]

Yesss we love a foodie simon!

Mans will tear up some fried rice and then fuck up some rotisserie chickens 2 min later. Yall stupid if u think u can leave 2 big plates unattended with him. 3 slurps and its gone.

If hes dating and u cant finish ur food he gladly finish it for u. Gets lowkey offended when i pull the plate back and tell him u just ate off that plate/fork. Like wtf u mean i cant eat off ur plate/fork it doesnt matter bc I kiss u anyways SO LET ME FUCKIN EAT😫

Hes the type to eat from the pot/pan. Like as soon as u tell him the food is ready hes already digging in the pressure cooker with a spoon.💀

Yeah-no, ‘cause he’s definitely the type to look at you all confused when you don’t just give him your plate and instead try to shove your uneaten food on to his. He’s quirking his brow, looking at you like, ‘Hello? My tongue has literally been inside you.’ 🤨 And he just gently takes your plate and fork out of your hands while staring at you, nodding in disapproval.

Update: sort of part two.

And “3 slurps and it’s gone” PLEASE, I’M DONE. Also, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing a (semi) little blurb. 🤭 Now introducing big boy helping you cook!

You stand at the stove, wooden spoon in one hand, and switching from spice to spice with the other. Your eyes stay focused on the silver pot below, nearly filled to the brim with hot, simmering soup. It’s one of your own recipes, fresh and homemade from start to finish. The savory smell fills the kitchen, and having certainly flooded into the other rooms of your shared flat. As it appears you’re not the only one who favors this recipe, someone else clearly does as well.

You try your best not to acknowledge the beast of a man looming over you too much, instead letting him quietly watch as you work your magic. Simon’s hand rests on the counter beside the stove, his other hand opting to rest knuckle-first on his hip. Sure, he mostly chooses to remain silent, but he has no problem reaching for and handing you a utensil or spice—often times before you can, and even before you can ask him to do so.

Every now and again you’ll find yourself having to step away for a minute, and a minute is all he needs. All the time he needs to inch over to your spot and take a hold of the wooden spoon, gently stirring the soup. All the time he needs to lift the spoon and bring it to his lips, slurping up the smallest amount it could possibly take to drench his taste buds, no matter how steaming hot it is. And all the time he needs to lower the spoon back into the pot and swiftly move back into position, just as you begin to turn around and make your way back over to the stove.

And you pretend you don’t notice, you like to pretend you didn’t just catch Simon from out the corner of your eye sneak a bit into his system. Though you can’t help but silently laugh to yourself as he lightly pushes a spice in your direction with his thumb, his own, kind way of telling you it needs just a little bit more!

[rizsu]

"suguru, shoko... it's been nice knowing you guys. i always loved you both. please, tell y/n i loved her too, yeah?"

it's a tense moment. after satoru received your social medias, he did some snooping around and found the harsh truth — or so he calls it. comparing himself to what he found did nothing but install a depressing, hallow sadness into his system.

"satoru, get the fuck down from that chair," shoko's having none of it. the moment she glimpsed group-chat's notification she practically teleported to satoru's. her heart dropped, palms got sweaty, throat dry at the thought of satoru ending his life. when she arrived, suguru was already there, weeping for his dear friend's life.

it must've been serious, right? it wasn't.

what came into her vision was a grown, silver-headed man standing on his desk chair. around his neck held one of his ties. now, this is where it got unserious. everything seemed true until shoko's eyes traveled to satoru's neck. his tie was wrapped around it with his very own hand holding the longer piece of the tie.

in short, he's fucking dramatic. suguru doesn't fall far, too. it must be hard on shoko for being the only one with a decent brain... kind of.

"shoko, how can you be so... so mean?! he's dying over there! your own friend!" suguru wipes his tears, furious at his other friend's own indifference to such a sight.

"don't," she begins, walking to satoru's position to kick him off the chair. "don't piss me off."

satoru's now on the floor; laying on his back, body straight, arms clasped on top his stomach. this must signal his final moments. it's peaceful in his mind.

"satoru, i swear to god. get the fuck off that floor." she nudges his body with the front of her shoes, eyes twitching at the foolishness.

it takes a mere minute before satoru's tired of ignoring the obnoxious foot harming his body. so he sits up, hanging his head low.

"i just can't, y'know? it hurts," his voice cracks, radiating sadness throughout the room. his words receive two varying responses.

from suguru: "it's okay, satoru. there are many other fishes in the sea."

from shoko: "this is why you mind your business sometimes."

at shoko's response, he sighs loudly, "it won't kill you to be nice, shoko ieiri."

she sits on his bed, placing a pillow on her lap, fixing her posture, and re-positioning her imaginary glasses. "well then, satoru. tell me what you felt, what you saw, and what you think. you can let it all out to doctor shoko."

suguru stifles a laugh, eyes switching between shoko's new persona and satoru's defeated expression.

"okay, doctor shoko. i felt horrible — no, nauseous. i went through her followings and saw that she follows other men. she knows other men. i'm sick to my stomach," his rant begins. it all started when he decided to go through your profile. this meant snooping through followers, followings, tagged photos, and even comments. you both are in — what the youngsters call it — a talking stage.

there are no labels within this relationship, nor are there any confirmed feelings but this? this betrayal? what do you mean he's not the first man on your profile? this is devilish. all went well until he saw one specific comment that said: "baby you're so sexy ily," to which you replied: "i love you more."

the fiend ( as he calls them ) had the profile photo of a man. when he did the internal math, the unbearable truth was found. he is not the only one you're talking to. he feels hurt.

suguru, too, shares his friend's pain. shoko, however, doesn't. why? it's because the commenter was in fact not a man. had satoru did deeper research, he'd have known that the profile photo is the famous singer the weeknd, and the profile belongs to one of your girls who's a diehard fan of him. well, who's shoko to tell the truth? she'll wait for satoru to come to a realization.

[heizlut]

The Price To Pay

ꕀ cw: dubcon

ꕀ tags: switch fem!reader, switch!aalto, manipulation, power-dynamics, oral m!receiving, creampie, riding, nipple play m!receiving, mostly proofread

ꕀ nsfw under the cut

ꕀ m!list here

From what you had gathered, Aalto was the man to see if you needed information. Of course, any information comes with a price, you knew that. You just didn't expect him to ask you to pay him by selling your body to him...

His brown eyes and all-knowing smirk seem to taunt you as look up at him all wide-eyed and with a scrunched nose, "What's the matter, darlin'? Price too steep for ya?" You let out a scoff that has him chuckling, "Aww, come on now. Promise I'll make ya feel good~" You roll your eyes and turn around, ready to walk away from the white-haired man, "I'll just find someone else. This is too much."

But Aalto is too quick, already standing in front of you with your jaw in his grasp, "The information you're looking for, only I can provide it..." He leans down to your face, "Just say yes to my offer and the information is yours, sweetheart."

You run your tongue across your teeth, annoyed by his proposition but also desperate for the information you sought out. With a heavy breath, you relent, "Fine. Let's do it." Aalto's smirk widens as he straightens up and pats your cheek, "That's what I thought."

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

Drool trickles down your chin through the little space between your lips and Aalto's cock that is being thrusted in and out of your throat. His fingers are tangled into your hair, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut in utter bliss, "Yeah, just like that, darlin'... Just like- ngh!"

His words were cut off by your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, making the sensations even more overwhelming for him. You smirk around his length, taking delight in how weak he was to your ministrations. If he was going to demand your body as the price to pay, then you'd make the most of it by making him squirm for you.

You do your best to relax your throat and push forward, taking his length down your throat til your nose is tickled by the trimmed silvery coarse hair on his pelvis. Aalto's eyes roll back at the feeling and the most high-pitched moan comes out of his mouth when you tighten your throat around the length, surprising the both of you.

Aalto is quick to release his grip on you to cover his mouth, eyes wide at the fact that he could produce a sound like that. You pull off his cock, a line of saliva connecting from his tip to your lips as you give a cocky grin, "Don't hide your moans from me... You wanted this, darlin', so move your hands and let me hear how pretty you sound for me~"

Blood rushes to Aalto's cheeks at your words especially when you threw his nickname for you back at him and he hesitantly removes his hands, only to grumble under his breath about how you weren't in any position to be so full of ego. His breath hitches and his brown eyes flit down to where your hand was now grasping his pale cock, your tongue slowly prodding at the slit of his rosy tip.

He scrunches his nose, not in disgust, but in sexual frustration and with the need to take over once more. Aalto grips your hair again and forcefully pulls you away, "Easy there, sweet thing. You've got the lower end of the bargain, so act like it."

You grimace slightly from his forceful grip, but quickly smirk and spread your legs salaciously, exposing your soaked cunt, "Then why don't you take over, huh?" A low groan slips from his throat and he pushes you down against the cold floor. His sweet, yet minty breath fans across your lips, his silver hair tickling your skin. His voice husky and low as he speaks, "Careful what ya wish for, sweetheart."

Breathing out a laugh, you spread your legs wider, keeping your grip underneath your thighs, "Tough talk for a guy who just moaned like a little bitch in-NGH!" Your taunt was thrown off by Aalto pushing his throbbing length inside of you to the hilt with a sharp inhale. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his cock twitching inside of you in anticipation for more, "Sorry, I didn't catch that. What were ya saying about me again?"

You bare your teeth at him, but it hardly looks as threatening as you intend it to be. Your eyes are too glossy and your pussy squeezing his cock too tight for him to see you as a threat. A low chuckles comes from him, "All bark and no bite, aren't ya, darlin'" Leaving you no time for a witty retort, he begins to pull out, only to thrust in hard.

Your pretty lips form a "O" in a moan you can't even let out. You wrap your legs around his waist and move your hands to grip his shoulders. Your nails dig into his skin, making his nose scrunch from the pain, but it wasn't enough to stop him from starting a rough pace as he fucks his swollen cock into your wet, squelching cunt, "F-fuck, that's it. Takin' my cock so well..."

Your face screws up in pleasure at the feeling of his tip pressing against your cervix with each thrust. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time brought overwhelming pleasure. You felt as if you were losing yourself to him and his stupidly big cock. You couldn't let that happen. You take advantage of your position with your legs around his waist, and with a push of your shoulder against his, you had him underneath you.

Aalto blinks up at you, his cock involuntarily throbbing at your display of dominance. You sit upright, the position making his cock feel so deep inside of you, but you bear with it and smirk. Your fingers run down his chest and pause at his pink nipples, pinching them between your fingertips as he lets out a sweet sounding moan. You can't help but chuckle at the sight, "You're just too pretty for me to let you have all the control..."

He bites his lip, but with a particularly sharp pinch to his nipples again, his mouth falls open in a whimper. You show a bit of mercy, leaving his sensitive nubs alone as you lean back and press your palms against the floor beneath you, "Just lay back and relax~" With that, you begin to bounce on his cock at a slow and torturous pace.

The view Aalto has of you now in this position has him fighting not to cum inside of you right then and there. He can see the way his cock moves in and out of your pussy, your clit that's just begging to be touched. He reaches forward and presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. Your eyes refocusing on his now cocky smile as he rubs furiously at your sensitive clit, "I'm not lettin' ya have all the fun~"

Your groan of annoyance turns into a sweet sounding moan as you pick up your pace on top of him while the pad of his thumb makes you see white. You cum hard around his cock, squeezing it over and over as clear liquid spurts out down his length, your thighs, and his abdomen. Aalto's eyes have a crazed look in them as his smile widens, "Hah! What a pretty mess ya made all over me..."

You can't even get annoyed at him at this point, still coming down from such an intense high. You start to falter in your movements, prompting Aalto to grab onto your hips, his voice raw from all his moaning, "My turn~" Your balance is thrown off as he bucks his hips up into you, your palms landing hard on his toned chest as you catch yourself which makes him chuckle, "Sorry, darlin'. Looked like ya needed a bit of help."

Your eyes roll back at he fucks his cock up into you, chasing his own orgasm that was soon to come. His grip tightens and he adjusts his feet on the floor to give him more leverage to fuck you harder and faster, "Gonna cum~ O-oh fuuuuck, wanna fill ya up so much it'll leak outta ya for days~"

With a loud moan, ropes of thick white cum fill your cunt. His cock pulsating to the beat of his racing heart with each spurt. You collapse on top of him, chest heaving against his and your face buried into the crook of his neck. Aalto does his best to catch his breath as his cock softens inside of you, twitching every now and then, "That wasn't so bad now was it, sweetheart?"

Released from your lust-filled haze, you bite down on his tacet mark on his neck, making him hiss and groan, "F-fuck was that for?" You get off of him, his cum leaking down your thighs as you stand and gather your clothes. He props himself up on his elbows, leaning back as he watches you curiously and with some weird sense of satisfaction, "Guess I deserved that, huh..." You narrow your eyes down at him, only for him to give you a cheeky smile and then sigh exasperatedly, "My right pocket."

You raise a brow at him, "What?" Aalto just looks amused, "The information ya want is in the flashdrive in the right pocket of my jacket. Go on, take it. Ya earned it anyways~" You go to where his jacket was haphazardly thrown on the floor, reaching into the right pocket, your fingers wrap around the cool metal of the flashdrive.

You turn to leave after pocketing the drive, only for Aalto's cheeky words to make you briefly pause, "Maybe we should make this a regular thing. I think we got somethin' special, darlin', don't ya think?" The only response you give is your middle finger over your shoulder as you push the doors open and leave. Aalto sighs and runs his fingers through his silver, messy hair, "Such a feisty little thing..."

He smirks as he speaks to himself, "I'll make sure ya come back for more... seeing as I never said that flashdrive had all the information ya wanted~ Our deal isn't over yet, sweetheart~"

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

a/n: aalto is so bbygurl, truly the kaveh of wuthering waves

[little-lynx]

EVERLARK OUTFITS: THE VICTORY TOUR

This part of “Catching Fire” is done (finally) so I put it all together;) DISTRICT 11, THE SQUARE

I go to my compartment and let the prep team do my hair and makeup. Cinna comes in with a pretty orange frock patterned with autumn leaves. I think how much Peeta will like the color. <…> As the train is pulling into the District 11 station, Cinna puts the finishing touches on my outfit, switching my orange hairband for one of metallic gold and securing the mockingjay pin I wore in the arena to my dress. <…> I can hear the anthem beginning outside in the square. Someone clips a microphone on me. Peeta takes my left hand. // Catching Fire, ch. 4

I think this dress should be a little semi-official so I choose cape sleeve sheath midi dress. It’s perfect for autumn (and they have early autumn weather there in 11th). The hair is just plain + gold hairband = girlish innocent look like the one after the games (this tactics they choose for the Tour). Plus I wanted to draw Katniss with her natural straight hair because i draw her with her braid usually ;) And again nothing about Peeta’s outfit. You know I feel like Portia 😅 because I have to choose how to dress Peeta. I’m not complaining through. So it is black suit with golden buttons (matching Katniss’s hairband and pin), thin soft orange sweater and black leather shoes.

DISTRICT 11, THE DINNER

A pale pink strapless dress brushes my shoes. My hair is pinned back from my face and falling down my back in a shower of ringlets. Cinna comes up behind me and arranges a shimmering silver wrap around my shoulders. He catches my eye in the mirror. “Like it?”  “It's beautiful. As always,” I say. “Let's see how it looks with a smile,” he says gently. // Catching Fire, ch.5

DISTRICT 7

Jackson has devised a game called «Real or Not Real» to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and they tell him if it’s true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. <...> But since Peeta’s greatest confusion centers around me—and not everything can be explained simply—our exchanges are painful and loaded, even though we touch on only the most superficial of details. The color of my dress in 7. My preference for cheese buns. The name of our math teacher when we were little. Reconstructing his memory of me is excruciating. Perhaps it isn’t even possible after what Snow did to him. But it does feel right to help him try. // Mockingjay, ch. 19

So we have only one sentence in “Mockingjay” about this outfit. And still I decided to draw it because I have a theory (head canon?) about it. I think Peeta remembers the color of her dress because it was special night for him (a lot of kisses and attempts to sneak away from everyone and maybe it felt very real at times) and also because she had two braids and the dress was red. RED is the color ❤️. / Peeta has dark red + black + a little bit gold which is also sexy color combination.

DISTRICT 5 I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs. All of the wedding gowns he designed for me went back to the Capitol, but there are some dresses I wore on the Victory Tour.  <…> Annie wears a green silk dress I wore in 5, Finnick one of Peeta’s suits that they altered— the clothes are striking. <…>  As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s.  // Mockingjay, ch. 16

Katniss: green silk dress + wavy sleeves + sea waves embroidery / Peeta: ivory dress shirt + knitted green waistcoat with sea waves embroidery + tweed suit

DISTRICT 2

Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So I lie. “Yeah, he's been helping me design my own clothing line. You should see what he can do with velvet.” Velvet. The only fabric. I could think of off the top of my head. “I have. On your tour. That strapless number you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back,” says Johanna. // Catching Fire, Chapter 15

This description gave me strong “Anastasia” feels 😅. So I loosely based Katniss dress on Anastasia’s ballet evening gown. For Peeta I chose tuxedo jacket similar to Salvatore Ferragamo design for FF 12/13.  Neo classic, purple velvet, shiny shoes. Also I decided to include a cane, both to help Peeta to have some rest during all this Tour activities and as an accessory.

DISTRICT 12

When we reach the mayor's house, I only have time to give Madge a quick hug before Effie hustles me off to the third floor to get ready. After I'm prepped and dressed in a full-length silver gown, I've still got an hour to kill before the dinner, so I slip off to find her. <…> She [Madge] saw my reflection behind her and smiled. “Look at you. Like you came right off the streets of the Capitol.” // Catching Fire, ch.6

When I started drawing this one I just felt that I need to make it look very “Capitol”. So I added some feathers. A LOT of sparkling feathers, haha. Also there are some “moon and stars” accessories in Katniss’ hair because this silver gown gives me moonlight vibes. For Peeta I came up with classic suit but made him wear it casually.

[seeingivy]

dinner party

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

an: what is going on in the house of commons (I do not know) MAJOR CRINGE ALERT but it's part of the lore idgaf this was a long time coming

--

it’s four thirty in the morning when sukuna decides to pry you from your computer. 

he’s almost positive that he’s going to get pushed back, cued on by the combination of your sleep deprivation and the concerning amount of energy drinks he knows you must have consumed within the hour. 

but the tangled mess of your hair and your deep, dark eye bags, have bothered him long enough – and if anything – he’s given you tons of grace for letting it go on for four days. 

sukuna gets working hard. he just can’t stand by working yourself to the bone. 

he finds you hunched over on the kitchen island, head down on the counter as you scribble away on your notebook – a sizable amount of ink smeared on your hands, a few empty wrappers of protein bars at your side, and your eyes barely open. 

sukuna leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter, before reaching forward to push your computer shut. the sound that follows jolts you out of your concentration, to find an…almost irritated sukuna sleepily rubbing his eyes. 

“hey. did i wake you up? i dropped the glass earlier by accident.” you mumble. 

“you broke a glass?” sukuna asks. 

“yeah. most of it is in the corner over there, i’ll swear i’ll clean it up as soon as i’m done.” 

sukuna opens his eyes fully this time, to find the stacked pile of glass sitting in the little corner, sparing you a glare before reaching for the little bin. the guilt flares up in you as you watch him drag his tired body over to the side, carefully shuffling all of the little shards away into the bag,

“sukuna. you don’t have to do that. i was going to clean it up.” 

“well, fuck off now. more time for you to sleep if i do it for you.” he mumbles. 

you’re positive he meant to make that more domineering then it ended up being. 

and it’s horrible. it’s been days since you’ve slept next to him, always climbing in as he’s climbing out to go to work – pressing a consolation kiss to his cheek before you pass out into the sheets. and now he’s up in the middle of the night, cleaning your mess just to ensure you a few more minutes of rest. 

“i’m almost done with my personal statement, i just want to make sure it’s done before i send it out to-” 

“your personal shit will still be there tomorrow.” 

you sigh. the pulsating in your head throbs quietly, eyelids heavy and aching from the light of the screen, tiredness sagging in your bones – dragging your limbs down as you lean on one of your arms. 

you still have three paragraphs left to write. your activities section could be better. you need to upload your transcripts and make sure that the letters were uploaded to the portal properly. and- 

“i’m almost done, really. i was just going to come to bed and-” 

“perfect! come now.” 

sukuna switches sides, walking up behind you and replacing his fingers with yours on your head. he can feel the pulsating under his fingertips, noting the way you lean your head against his chest and lean back the second he starts massaging into your skin. 

“you’re starting to fucking piss me off.” sukuna mutters. 

that’s what he says. it sounds more like you’re starting to concern me. 

“i’m coming, sukuna. just give me a few more minutes, okay?” 

sukuna pulls the stool at your side, before looping both of his hands around your thighs and pulling you up into his lap. his hands are steady – holding you firmly at your sides – as he looks up at you and you dig your hands into the hardness of his collarbone. 

you loop your fingers through the silver chain around sukuna’s neck, tugging on the little dog tag charm at the end to pull him closer to you. it’s a chaste kiss that you press to his lips and you you can feel him staring after – big, brown eyes peering into yours – as he kneads his hands into your skin.

you scoff. 

“are you poking my butt?” you ask. 

“maybe a little.” sukuna responds. 

“you’re such a dog.” 

“you cop a feel almost everyday. god forbid i touch my girlfriend’s butt.” 

sukuna reaches forward, tucking one of the loose strands behind your ear. 

“we used to be a real country, y’know? people used to touch butts all the time.” 

you smile and sukuna reaches up to run his fingers over your lips, the softness mirrored on his face too. and you know that a lecture is going to follow, so you bury your hands into his messy bedhead. 

“you have to fucking stop this shit.” sukuna states. 

you sigh. 

“i know. it’s just that once i start, i find it hard to stop. i just want to finish it all in one go.” 

“you want to clean up animal shit that badly?” 

you groan. 

“you’re so mean, sukuna. it’s not cleaning up animal shit…” 

“yeah, yeah…i’ve heard your whole healing and love for the earth and animals shit before, i know.” 

you dig your hands into his scalp. 

“i…i just want to make sure that i only have to apply to veterinary school once.” 

“you’re being stubborn. so what if you have to try again? it’s not a big deal.” sukuna states. 

“s’not about that. i just can’t afford to do it again, sukuna. it costs thousands of dollars and i’ve been saving up for so long. i’d hate to see the overtime i worked go to waste when i don’t even get in.” you murmur. 

sukuna doesn’t think it through when he says it. he’s almost certain that if he had thought through it properly though, it would have been the same conclusion. 

“i’ll pay for it.” sukuna states. 

it’s a horrible sensation – like pins and needles in your chest. 

you knew that sukuna was rich. that his family was rich. 

and that in earnest, sukuna probably would pay for it without even batting an eye. it wouldn’t even be the first time that you would have taken a handout from his family – for rent, car loans, when you applied to college. 

mrs. itadori was too generous. it seeped into sukuna too. 

but you refuse to take handouts from your boyfriend. not when the debt you have to pay them back is already so high. 

“are you crazy? you can’t just offer to pay for my vet school applications if i don’t get in anywhere this time around.”  

“you know i have a job right?” sukuna responds. 

“i know you have a job. but you can’t just offer it up like that! you’re acting like it’s just a five dollar iced coffee or something. it costs thousands of dollars, sukuna.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“it’s like an investment. you can pay me back.” sukuna states. 

the same line mrs. itadori uses. it never feels that way when they’re the one quietly shuffling you money in envelopes when you have eviction notices on your door that you never pay back. 

“you would never take my money.” you state. 

sukuna grins, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your collarbone. 

“you know me so well, princess.” 

you frown. 

“and you expect me to take yours.” you mumble. 

sukuna runs his hands through the front of your hair, before angling your down up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you know i only have a stable income because of my parents, right? that’s…i had a leg up, sweetheart. didn’t have to worry about working during school – hell, i went fucking abroad just because i could.” 

you glare at him. 

“that’s…that’s such a copout. i can’t just take a handout from you because things are harder for me. i know that you may have had some things considerably easier but that doesn’t mean i can just…start taking your money.” 

he glares back. 

“considerably easier is the understatement of the year. and i have every intent to let you pay me back when you’re a cushy doctor. you’re going to buy me a new motorcycle with that money.” 

sukuna watches the thought rattle around in your head. 

“we’re in it for the long haul. not a big deal if i have to help you pay for vet school applications, which i won’t have to because you’ll get in, but what’s mine is yours. s’gonna be our future student loan.” he murmurs. 

there’s the ghost of a smile on your face. sukuna’s fingers continue to meld softly into the hardness of your hip bones, the sensation so soothing it almost makes you keel your head back. 

and you’re sure that’s part of it – the soft touch, the overexertion, the crippling fear that you’re about to graduate and not even sure what you’ll be doing next year, that you could fail and have to rely on him – that makes you start bursting into tears and stand up to wrap your arms around him.  

you delude yourself for a second into thinking that’s how it could be. that maybe for once you wouldn’t have to worry about this type of thing, because he would be there to help you. that he would let you pay him back, that it would be your money. 

“i can’t take your money, sukuna.” you whisper. 

sukuna smiles. 

“you would do it for me.” 

“i wouldn’t be able to do it for you. i-i would want to but…” 

sukuna frowns. 

“you know money doesn’t mean shit to me right?” 

you sigh. 

“but it does to me. we already owe you so much and…and this can’t be another thing on the list of stuff i have to pay back.” you state. 

sukuna hooks his hands under your knees, before tilting you over his back and marching his way back to the room. there’s angry grumbling under his breath, that’s fully intelligible to you and makes your breath hitch. 

“why are we having this stupid fucking conversation at four in the morning? i’m not about to get into the whole logistics of marriage and shared bank accounts when you can’t even stop giggling after i touch your thighs sometimes. just chill the fuck out.” 

you feel bad. but you can’t help but laugh at how stupid he sounds as he flops you flat onto the sheets – that he haphazardly mentioned marrying you – as he rummages through the closet for your pajamas. you can tell that he’s tabled it for now and you’re more than grateful as your eyelids start to heavy with sleep. 

“arms up.” 

you oblige as he reaches for your shirt – and lightly push him as he tangles it over your head for far too long – before pulling it straight off. there’s a wide smile on his face and you reach for his wrist to stop him. 

“what’s wrong?” 

not the time. 

“nothing! i just….nothing, sorry.” 

you take the shirt from his hands before slipping it over your head and switching into the shorts. sukuna’s always quick with things like this – closing his eyes and turning around – always waiting until you were done. 

besides your momentary lapse in awkwardness when you were able to take the bath with him, you hadn’t pushed anything farther. but it was pooling in the pit of your stomach – that want to be closer to him, moving in tandem with him for something…more intimate. 

you’d talk to him about it on the weekend. 

--

“are you…sitting at the kids table?” 

you look up to find a blonde girl standing against the back end of the wall, nursing a little glass of wine in her hands. you shoot the group of kids an apologetic smile before you push off the floor, rubbing the red spots in your knee from the carpet, before giving a polite smile. 

“ah. i kind of lost my boyfriend…and i can’t find my friends. they were also playing the entire game wrong and it was hurting my soul a little bit.” 

the girl laughs, pushing her hair behind her shoulder before extending her hand out to you. 

“valid. i’d do the same thing. i’m kisa.” she states. 

you swear you know her from somewhere. though the likelihood of that is probably ninety percent – there wasn’t anyone in this town who didn’t know each other. 

“i’m y/n.” 

“wait. y/n? are you sammy’s sister?”  

point proven. 

“that’s right. yeah, she’s here somewhere. our mom was invited, she’s really good friends with mrs. itadori.” you. 

she hums in response, as you watch people shuffle in and out of the room. there’s a highly doctored smell of perfume in the room – billowing black dresses and shiny pearls – as all of you mom’s friends amble around the foyer taking their pictures. 

mrs. itadori spent a decent amount of her time planning extravagant dinner parties. and once in a while, you had to drag yourself all the way out here to show your face with yuuji. it was hardly pleasant. 

yuuji’s dad would always make a shitty comment, sammy’s ass kissing would be at its peak, and the two of you would be left to fend for the wolves. 

sukuna, naturally, knew this. so he decided to attend to. 

you just didn’t realize he’d be so popular. neither did yuuji and it makes your skin itch that you don’t know where he is right now. or that you can’t resolve the tension that he must be feeling – especially when it’s about sukuna. 

“why are you here?” 

she grins. 

“i have this really hot ex-boyfriend. i was figuring he might be here tonight since he’s back in town.” 

“do tell.” 

“oh, he’s gorgeous. like, i don’t want to objectify men, but i literally do. he’s like attractive in a ‘i want to pour battery acid into my eyes every time he looks at me’ kind of way.” 

you laugh.

“the best kind of attractive.” you affirm. 

“you get me, bitch! it’s like…i don’t mean to be so crude…and i’ve already had three glasses of wine so i’m going to blame it on that…but i need to get dicked down. fuck, i’d even suck his dick if he let me. and i hate sucking dick!” 

you snort. 

weirdly enough, this is one of your favorite things about parties like these. or going to the bar. talking to random girls in the bathroom – finding out that it’s their bachelorette party or whatever boy problems they’re having. there’s a soft solace in other people like this – that talk so openly with strangers, with a quiet trust that you can’t really seem to place. 

“weird question. why do you hate it?” you ask. 

“not weird at all, honey. it’s just not very fun to do. but sometimes it is, when you can tell the person really likes it. like my ex-boyfriend, i’d suck his dick all the time just because i wanted to, just because i liked to make him feel good. and he really loved it. and some people are fucking into it, i don’t know, they love to suck dick and do that type of thing. s’all about your interests.” 

you nod, mulling over her answer in your head. 

“do you like sucking dick?....that sounds more crude when i say it but also i’ve been talking about it for the past twenty seconds so.” she asks. 

“no! no, it’s not rude. and i asked. um, i haven’t done it before. i mean, i have or…or at least tried to but i don’t count that for…other reasons and stuff. but no, i haven’t.” 

“do you want to? you’re pretty, you said you have a boyfriend right?” 

you smile. 

“yeah. yeah, i just…get nervous about that type of thing. we haven’t done anything yet but i feel like we might soon.” 

she narrows her eyes. 

“he doesn’t pressure you, right?” 

along with the quiet trust, there’s always a well of concern. 

“no! no, the opposite really.” 

“good shit. well, don’t think about it so hard. it’ll come to you naturally. plus, when you like someone a lot, that type of stuff kind of comes with it. like my ex-boyfriend? total fucking sweetie pie. he could be standing in front of me and i’d dick him down right now if he asked. just for old times sake.” 

you laugh. 

“i really hope you find him. and get dicked down for your own sake.”  

“he was just so fucking hot! i’ve never had a guy make me feel like that. it’s like…i couldn’t have really reached my prime at my highschool prom with a guy two years younger than me…that’s embarrassing.” 

you pale. and right at that moment, sukuna walks up to you, eyes wide as he glares at you. 

“what the fuck are you doing?” 

“sukuna.”

you pause, the awkwardness of his name falling out of your mouths at the same time confirming your suspicions. 

just your luck, her aforementioned, beautiful ex-boyfriend, is sukuna. 

“sukuna! i didn’t realize you were back.” 

you can feel your chest simmering. because now she’s batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair in response to him. sukuna doesn’t even spare her a second glance and instead uses it to shoot bullets at you with his eyes. 

“what are you doing?” 

“i didn’t know! how was i supposed to know?” you whisper.

“we all went to the same school, y/n.” 

“i don’t memorize what all your ex-girlfriends look like sukuna. i have a very small thread of self-confidence and i’m hell bent on keeping it for the time being.” you respond. 

sukuna doesn’t find your joke funny. 

“do you guys know each other or something?” kisa asks. 

“kisa. this is my girlfriend, y/n. she was best friends with yuuji, remember?” sukuna states. 

she pauses for a second, before jolting up. 

“ah. the little one who used to take the cheerleading pictures, right? frizzy hair, big glasses?” she asks. 

you pinch your lips into a straight line. 

“that would be me!” you state. 

“shut the fuck up.” sukuna responds, before yanking you by the elbow into the kitchen at the side. 

you spare her a last glance over your shoulder – confusion spreading over her face – followed by the seclusion to the quiet of the kitchen. 

sukuna leans back against the fridge, running his hands through his hair, giving tight-lipped polite smiles through the people passing through the rooms. 

“what did you talk about?” 

you dig your fingers into your palm. sukuna picks up on it. 

“nothing. just pleasantries and stuff. it wasn’t a big deal!” 

“tell me. i can tell whatever it was is making you feel like shit.” 

you take a deep breath. 

“i don’t feel like shit, i just-” 

“are you guys fighting about something?” 

your eyes widen as you turn to yuuji, leaning against the frame of the door with his arms crossed on his chest. you muster a peachy smile, shaking your head as you walk up to his side and loop your arm through his. 

“of course not. we never fight!” you state. 

yuuji raises his eyebrow. 

“you never fight? ever?” 

“no! no, of course we fight. all the time actually.” you state. 

you look over at sukuna, who starts gesturing to you with his hands – with an irritated look on his face. 

what the hell are you talking about? 

you gesture back, shrugging as yuuji shuffles the two of you over to the drinks, filling up the glasses. 

“well, that doesn’t sound very healthy.” 

you take a deep breath in. 

“we don’t fight an abnormal amount. we’re like normal couples. we fight and then make up. there’s nothing weird about us actually, we’re perfect! It’s-it’s like conflict resolution and-” 

yuuji laughs, before leaning closer to you and wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“who are you trying to convince? me or yourself? you’re rambling so much.” 

you groan, burying your palms into your eye sockets – you’re already messing this up. royally. yuuji gives you a warm smile, one that you can see from the little gaps in between your fingers, as you cross your arms and lean against the counter. yuuji gives sukuna a small nod, as sukuna takes the spot at your side, and links his arm around your shoulder. 

it feels wrong to be so openly affectionate like that. for him to pull you closer to him when yuuji’s standing right there. 

you lift your shoulders slightly until he drops his hand and you shoot him a grateful smile. 

“so really. what happened?” 

“nothing. i was talking to kisa and didn’t realize it was kisa.” 

yuuji leans his head back. 

“which one is she again? the neighbor?” 

you can feel a wave of discomfort, of an unnecessary defense bubbling up in your chest. he wasn’t actually talking to the neighbor – she just wanted advice on whether or not she should break up with her boyfriend. 

and sukuna told her not to. 

“no. she’s the girl sukuna went to prom with.” you state, brushing down the pleats of your skirt. 

“ahh, that’s right. his first girlfriend.” 

yuuji circles the last sip of his drink in his cup before downing it and turning to both of you at his side. 

“so what the hell is he so pissed about? you can’t talk to people now?” 

“he wasn’t mad. we were just talking, yuuji.” 

“you looked pretty mad. and you were whispering in hushed tones.” yuuji states. 

sukuna clears his throat and you can tell that he’s simmering with irritation from the way his fists are clenched and curled at his side. the animosity in his eyes does little to help too. 

“i just wanted to know what they talked about and clear up anything that she might have said that might not be true. i don’t want her to get the wrong idea.” sukuna states. 

yuuji rolls his eyes. 

“she’s a grown woman. i think she can tell right from wrong by herself. and i’m positive that if she did say anything, it’s not anything that wouldn’t be true.” 

you shove yuuji in the side. 

“what’s your problem? you’re being so mean.” 

“i’m not being mean! it’s just a fact. you…you know how he can be. do you really think he just changed like that?” 

maybe it’s a mix of things. 

that sukuna’s ex-girlfriend just spent five minutes telling you about how much he apparently loves to get his dick sucked and you have yet to muster up the courage to do it. or that your hair’s been getting consecutively oily as the night goes on and sticking to your forehead or that yuuji tends to throw some hurdle into your relationship every chance he seems to get. 

or that you can’t pay for vet school so it’s time to cut back on iced coffee since you’re going to be taking a loan or that your mom’s walking around in fake pearls and someone most definitely will make a comment about it that’ll have her leaving the party crying. 

or that you can never seem to win. or do anything right. 

“you’re such an asshole sometimes. why do you always have to talk about him like that? do you think i’m so pathetic that he’s going to leave me for some girl he literally talked to six years ago? do you think i’m so pathetic that i’d date someone like that?” you mutter, before brushing past his shoulder and leaving the room. 

sukuna can feel that irritation festering up in him and makes his best efforts to swallow it down as he turns to yuuji. sukuna debates his options – following you or beating it out of yuuji. 

the second one seems more productive for the time being. 

he turns and can immediately clock that yuuji feels bad – his face drooping like it would whenever sukuna would beat him in a video game or leave their board game early to hang out with his friends. 

“what the hell is your problem?” sukuna asks. 

the drooping is replaced with anger, an irritability as yuuji scoffs before turning around. 

“what’s yours?” yuuji mutters. 

sukuna reaches for his collar, shaking him from filling up his glass again, before yuuji meets his eyes again. 

“no, seriously. what the fuck is your problem? why can’t you just be happy for her? we were getting along just fine before this until you decided to be a little bitch about it.” sukuna asks. 

yuuji rolls his eyes. he pulls back, tussling out of his grasp before leaning against the closed door of the fridge. 

“i didn’t have a problem with you. but you’re doing the same shit as before – being careless. and you’re doing it with my best friend.” 

sukuna wants to punch him in the face. 

“are you ever going to be satisfied with what you have? you just had to have her too? she was my friend first.” yuuji states.

sukuna doesn't know why it flares up in him - that possessiveness. you don't belong to him but you certainly don't belong to yuuji either. he doesn't get to stake a claim on you just because he knew you first.

“you sound like a pathetic child. you know you don’t own her, right? you can’t fathom that she could have someone else be special to her that isn’t you? that you can’t be a spoiled little kid and have to learn how to share?” 

sukuna’s hit a nerve, though he’s not entirely sure why. but now yuuji’s crying, shoving him hard into the counter, before his pounding footsteps reside as he runs up the stairs.

there’s an immediate guilt, coupled with a resounding headache. 

--

when sukuna makes it back to the apartment – after having dozed off for a decent amount of the train ride home – he’s thrown off when you push him against the wall the second you make it back into the house. and dig your hands under his shirt, dangerously lower than you ever have before. 

“jesus. what’s wrong with-” 

he can barely finish because you’re cutting him off by kissing him – almost aggressively – and latching your arms around his neck and jumping up onto his thighs. he’s quick to catch you, your legs locked around his waist as you pant into his mouth, kissing every spare patch of skin you can find. 

“what are you-” 

he can’t even get a sentence out. 

“doing, pretty girl?” 

it’s almost like you don’t hear him or something. there’s something insatiable burning in your eyes, nearly twitching with a fervor with something that he’s never really seen before. 

correction. something that he’s never seen in your eyes before. he’s seen it before – hundreds of times. in the shitty bathroom in the bar, from the girl he met on the dating app, and even kisa back in the day. but not with you.

he almost hates it.

sukuna pushes you back, resting your legs against the weight of the kitchen counter before letting go and trying to pull away. 

but it’s almost like you’re trying to entice him. grabbing him by his necklace and pulling him back into you, letting one hand roaming through his hair and the other underneath his shirt. 

there’s an insatiable fire pooling in his stomach. but it’s the wrong timing. and it’s almost too…tantalizing, too tempting that it felt wrong. 

this was not how he was going to do this with you – at least not the first time. 

he was no stranger to it – the intense, all consuming feeling that came with this. a part of him even wanted it. but he wanted the other side first, that aspect of it more. 

the part that he never had. the romance, the yearning, and the godawful ache. 

the love making. 

he had every intent to worship you the second he got, to drag it out for as long as he could. like he was a man starved, like he’d never get a chance to do it again. 

and there was no way he was going to bring that out, or be able to even do that, on the heels of his argument with yuuji, after whatever it was that kisa must have said that had you so worked up. 

sukuna doesn’t know what else to do. so he brings his hand up and takes a fist full of your hair – and uses it to yank you off of him. you’re panting hard, eyes nearly glazed over as you look at him and reach down this time. 

reaching for the buckle of his pants. sukuna reaches for your wrists and squeezes hard. 

“what are you doing?” he whispers. 

you pant, before shaking your head. 

“you know…” you respond, gesturing with your hands. 

“i don’t know. what are you doing?” he deadpans. 

you glare at him. 

“you know…we’ve been dating for some time now. and we love each other…it…it’s only right to do this type of thing. don’t you want to?” 

it’s that same meek look – that squirrely, almost timid way of talking. when he heard that godawful comparison for the first time, that filled him with an unappeasble rage. 

lipstick on a pig. 

it aggravates him to his core because he hasn’t heard it in months. that awkward, shy voice. he had gotten used to the real one – filled with a comfortable confidence. that cracked jokes and poked fun at him all the time. 

the part of you that saw him like a real person. 

“sure i do, princess. you know you drive me crazy, right?” 

you give him a grin, before reaching back for the buckle of his belt. and for a second time, he’s quick to pull on your wrists again, before leaning his forehead against yours, his breath tickling the tip of your nose. 

“no, seriously. what are you doing?” 

you bite into the hardness of your cheek, pinching your eyes shut. 

it’s not awkward. just say it. 

“i’m trying to…suck your dick.” 

sukuna takes a deep breath, using his pointer finger to angle your face back up by your chin, brown eyes overwhelmingly warm and soft as he looks at you. and it aggravates you. you know what he’s going to say. 

“you…you can’t stop me, you know? i’m ready to do this. i’ve..i’ve been thinking about it for a while.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows, almost like he’s disbelieving of what you’re saying, before he talks. 

“okay, angel. can you just kiss me first?” 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“what?” 

“i’m okay with it if you want to. i just want you to kiss me first.” 

you laugh, before cupping the side of his face and rubbing over the soft indent of his dimple. 

“are you being serious? you’re not like…copping me out right?” 

sukuna glares at you. 

“i just fucking asked you to kiss me. you just pounced on me like a fucking lion out of nowhere.” 

you bring your hands to his cheeks and can’t help but smile into his face. 

“why are you…so cute? you just want me to kiss you?” 

sukuna wrinkles his nose in disgust, before reaching forward to pinch the sensitive skin on your arm. 

“you fucking ruined it. now you’re never sucking my dick.” 

you snort. 

“well…technically i did kiss you. just really aggressively.” you mumble. 

sukuna’s laugh is soft, almost quiet as he leans forward to press a kiss to your hair. 

“kiss me properly. i’m not going anywhere. i…i want to savor it.” 

you swallow hard, as he takes over the open space in between your legs, and leans forward. his hair is tickling your forehead, your breaths slow as you cycle in tandem, and you loop your arms around his torso. 

there’s a small amount of desperation in the way that sukuna kisses you, a burning that ignites over your skin and makes your stomach drop to your core. but it’s almost like he’s slowing you down, curbing that feeling in your chest – by ubbing circles into your back, a contentment in his demeanor – that you’re cued into by the way he’s smiling into the kiss. 

that’s when you realize. 

“you’re not going to let me do it, are you?” you murmur, whispering against his lips. 

“perceptive.” sukuna mumbles back, before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

you groan, which has the smallest of laughs bubbling out of him. it’s free of any teasing – that you’re positive of as he lifts your hands to his lips and presses a kiss on each of your knuckles. 

“i like the rings. wonder what your hands would look like around my…” 

“well, now you’re just being fucking annoying.” 

“i’m joking.” 

you sigh, leaning your cheek against his shoulder, as you blink hard. 

“why not?” 

as quickly as that quiet, squirrely voice came back, it’s almost like he decimated it in his hands with a few seconds. if this were months prior, it would have taken him weeks to convince you that he still liked you. 

you had stopped viewing his actions as swift rejections, as slights against you, and started taking them for what they were. 

sukuna was going to kill yuuji for trying to shit on your relationship later. you were meant to be together, that much was obvious. 

“yuuji and i kind of…fought. i want to be in the right mood when we do this.” 

you lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands. 

“you know, he’s starting to really make me mad. he should just leave us alone if it pisses him off that much and-” 

“i said more than he did. it’s my fault. i’ll apologize tomorrow.” 

you shake your head. and there’s an awkward silence, before sukuna asks. 

“so what did she say? i know that didn’t come out of nowhere, even if you were thinking about it before.” 

you groan, digging your face into his neck. 

it’s almost embarrassing now. 

“she was there to see you. wanted to get dicked down by you. and mentioned that apparently you really like having your dick sucked? i don’t know…i just…had a long week. vet school and my mom and yuuji and…and you. figured i’d at least relieve some tension and give you what you wanted. like two birds in one stone type of thing.” 

“please don’t refer to sex as a stone.” sukuna deadpans.

you laugh and it makes sukuna smile. 

“the only thing i want is you.” 

you sigh.

“ugh! i’m…i’m so annoyed because i actually know that. if you were going to get up and leave you would have done it by now because it’s been months but i just…felt so stupid or like undercooked or something because we haven’t done it yet that i just-” 

“do you feel like you have something to prove?” 

you bite your lip. 

“i guess. it’s about you but…but it’s about other stuff too. i want to be strong enough to do it. i don’t want to let bad experiences hold me back when you’re obviously a good guy and obviously good in bed but-” 

sukuna smirks. 

“obviously?” 

“you’re so annoying.” 

sukuna wraps his hands around your cheeks, before pulling you up to look at him. and practices the way he’s worded this in his head a hundred times, hoping that it comes out right. 

“angel?” 

“yeah?” 

“about what you said. about other stuff.” 

it’s almost like you’re a kicked dog, trying to retreat after he mentioned it. 

“i don’t want to push you into telling me. and you don’t have to. i can…i can piece some of it together. but i just need to know what not to do. i’ll never forgive myself if i ever hurt you, especially if it’s something regarding this.” 

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice so quiet that it makes your chest ache, with overwhelming, sincere love of his consideration for you. 

“i’m sorry it happened to you. you don’t even have to tell me. write me a list or send me an email. i just need to know what’s off limits, anything that could possibly…remind you of anything that happened to you.” 

you angle your face back up, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips before pulling back. 

“are you tired?” you ask. 

he leans back, in confusion. 

“no?” 

“then, i’ll tell you right now.” 

sukuna’s eyes widen. 

“i’m not trying to pressure you.” 

you smile, before linking your hands into his. 

“i know. you’re not. i’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. and one of the biggest hurdles is…having to address that it happened? but if you already know…all i have to do is tell you now. and…” 

you sigh. 

“and it’s you. i feel safe enough to tell you about it but just…just don’t be weird about it?” 

sukuna reaches forward, crossing a little x shape onto your chest. you tilt your head to the side, in confusion. 

“what was that?” 

“crossing your heart. like the promise?” 

“you’re supposed to cross your own heart.” 

sukuna glares. 

“i’m not going to spell it out for you. you’re smart enough to figure it out.” 

it takes a few seconds, but you reach the conclusion. 

sukuna crossed your heart instead of his. he made the promise on yours, because yours was more important than his own – enough to make an oath on.

yours over his. 

it’s the only reason you’re able to muster enough courage to even tell him what happened in the first place.

--

next part linked here

an: ladies and gentleman, we cringe. (this was a long time coming but it's for plot purposes)

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