#one drink is all it takes and he is left to die

[mattyriddlesbitch]

cliche but I’m a sucker for those tropes where she’s the dare matheo’s friends made him bet on and she finds out

I love those tropes too, it hurts, but is so good. Thank youuuuuu! <3

Bet

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Angsty, one use of 'shitty', I think that's it.

You and Mattheo had been dating for just 3 months now. It had been going great. Your dates were always really fun and nice. You always seemed to be hanging out and kissing and holding hands and just being a regular grossly cute couple. It was all so perfect.

That was until you were coming up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower to hang out with the boys. They were up there already and talking and you heard your name so you stopped to listen.

“It's been 3 months with (Y/N). I guess that means you win.” You heard Enzo say, just making you confused.

“I can't believe you did it. I thought you'd get bored of her after 2 weeks.” Theo added.

“You guys should already know how seriously I take bets. I like proving you guys wrong.” Mattheo, your boyfriend, said.

“I think you just like taking our money.” Draco said and the boys laughed.

You felt sick. You were a bet?

You stood on the stairs for a moment, just taking in the conversation and if you paid attention, you could even hear the money being exchanged, the little clinking of coins as they were being passed.

You turned around, hurrying down the stairs as quietly as you could. How humiliating. How could you face any of them again?

You actually really liked Mattheo. He was so sweet and made you laugh and made you feel appreciated. And now you just felt sick and horrible. How could someone fake all that?

You went back to your dorm, unsure if you should hurl or cry. Instead, you settled for going to sleep, not even bothering to change as you settled into your bed, hiding under the blankets. Was it embarrassing to throw yourself a pity party over a boy toying with your feelings? Yes. But right now, you didn't care. You just wanted to sleep and hopefully wake up to either that conversation being a cruel dream or Mattheo never existing.

It took a lot of tossing and turning, but you managed to get to sleep. You woke up in the morning all sweaty and still upset. You didn't wanna get out of bed. You knew getting up meant that you'd have to see him and probably confront him and you didn't know if you were ready for that.

You forced yourself out of bed anyways, knowing there were still classes today, and as much as you would've loved to sulk in bed, you couldn't miss lessons. You got ready for the day, showering and getting dressed in your uniform before heading out.

Only Mattheo was in front of your door when you opened it, holding a pastry and some drink with a look of concern. You froze, not sure what to do.

“Morning, princess. We missed you last night.” He said, offering you the food and drink.

“I was too tired.” You lied, stepping out of your dorm and closing the door. You accepted the food and drink knowing you'll probably just end up throwing it away anyways. Your stomach still felt too sick to eat.

“You could've told me, angel. I would've just spent the night with you. You know I'd rather spend time with you.” He said with a soft smile.

“Sorry. I wasn't really thinking.” You said and started making your way to your class.

Mattheo was quick to follow. “It's alright. I was just worried. Plus, I missed you.” He said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

The contact made you feel gross. It didn't feel right anymore. But you kept your mouth shut for now. You didn't want to make a scene before classes. You were already embarrassed as is, if everyone knew you were just a bet because you fought with Mattheo in front of everyone, you'd probably die.

Classes were awful. They probably would've been normal, even good, if that pit in your stomach would've left. You felt too sick to eat other than a few bites at lunch. You locked yourself in your dorm after classes and tried busying yourself with schoolwork. It was really hard to concentrate, though. Merlin, in only 3 months, you had a few pictures of him in your dorm. Not to mention a shitty necklace he bought that hung around your neck. You took it off and tossed it to your bed so you wouldn't be seeing it every time you looked down at your work. Even put the pictures away in a drawer so you could focus. 

You got so focused in schoolwork, a good distraction from your asshole boyfriend. You still felt horrible, but at least you weren't thinking of him as you answered questions about the history of magic. You didn't even notice you missed dinner as you sat at your desk, throwing yourself into work instead of sulking.

You got pulled out of your little world as someone knocked on the door. You looked at the door for a second before standing up and opening it to see Mattheo again, standing there with a plate of food and a smile.

“Hey, princess. You missed dinner, so I brought you something. I don't want you starving.” He said.

“Thanks. I was just caught up in some schoolwork.” You said as you took the plate, this time it was the truth. Even just looking at the food made you sick. Why was he being so sweet when this is all a lie?

“Is everything okay?” He asked and you noticed you were making a sour face at the food.

“I don't feel like eating.” You said simply.

“Why? Are you feeling sick?” He asked, reaching a hand out to feel your forehead for a fever.

You stopped his hand by pushing his arm away. “I'm not sick.”

He frowned at you not letting him touch you. “Then what's going on?” His eyes looked over you, stopping around your chest. “You aren't wearing my necklace.” He noted, knowing you haven't taken it off since he gave it to you.

You couldn't do it anymore. “Was I just a bet?” You asked, matching his frown.

His face softened slightly as his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. He didn't wanna say ‘yes’ but he didn't wanna lie either.

It answered your question anyways and you felt tears stinging your eyes at the confirmation. “Don't bother me ever again.” You said and shoved the plate of food at him, letting go before he could even react to grab it, making it fall to the floor as you closed the door on him.

He stood outside your door, trying to gather his thoughts as to what to do next. You may have been just a bet to start with, but, Merlin, help him, he was falling hard for you.

You curled up in your bed again, too depressed to even think about continuing your schoolwork.

The next few days were spent trying to avoid Mattheo and his friends while getting through classes. You saw him try to approach you several times, but you dodged him every time. You missed him and you hated yourself for even thinking that. He hurt you. Why did you miss him?

It wasn't until almost a week later, when you came back to your dorm after classes, you opened the door to see Mattheo leaning against your desk, looking at one of the pictures you shoved in a drawer. You dropped your bag to the floor beside you with a sigh as he looked up at you, standing up straight as he put the picture down.

You crossed your arms as you looked at him. “I told you not to bother me again.”

“I'm sorry.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “I'll do anything you want but that. I know you're upset. Kick me, punch me, hex me. Do whatever will make you feel better. But I can't just leave you alone.” He looked like he wanted to touch you, but put his hands in his pockets instead.

“I don't care, just leave.” You said, gesturing to the open door.

He went over to the door, but instead of leaving, he just closed it. “I'll be honest, completely honest. Yes, you were a bet. It was supposed to be something fun for me and my friends, but instead, I ended up getting feelings for you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So what? You want me to forget that what you did hurt me? You want me to pretend that you didn't have the intentions to play with my feelings and use me for fun?” The hurt and anger was obvious in your tone.

“No. You're right. What I did was awful and I shouldn't have done it.” He said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the floor.

“So what do you want from me?” You asked, your tone was still harsh.

“You. I want you.” His answer was immediate as he took another step towards you.

You looked away, sighing again in frustration. “I can't just forget and ignore what you did.”

“Please, (Y/N). I'll do anything.” He said, now reaching out for your hand but you step back out of his reach.

“How much?” You asked.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he let his hand fall by his side again.

“How much? How much did you get from the bet?”

He hesitated before answering, obviously not fond of the question. “100 galleons.”

“Did you get it? You win?” You asked, the harshness in your tone causing him to shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” He said, putting his hand back in his pocket.

“You mean it? For real? About you catching feelings?” You asked a little softer.

“I do.” He really didn't wanna say more than you asked in case he said the wrong thing, so he bit his tongue to not ramble about his feelings towards you.

You stared at him as you thought about what to do. He hurt you, but you actually had feelings for him too. “Was anything else a lie?”

“No. Everything I said and did was all me. No lies, no acts. I was being me. The real me.” He took another step towards you.

You let out a long exhale as you thought. If he was being genuine, then you guys could restart properly. But he wasn't genuine before, so why should you believe him now?

“Please.” He said softly as he stepped towards you again, nearly toe-to-toe with you.

You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing what you were about to do was stupid. “On conditions.” You say and open your eyes to look at him.

His face immediately lit up as he nodded. “Anything.”

“I want the money.” You said and he smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “Not fair you played me and got money for it. Not fair for your friends to get it back either since they made the bet with you.”

“Absolutely. I was gonna take you somewhere nice with it and maybe buy you something, but whatever you want.” He said.

You almost smiled at the thought, but wanted to keep up being angry with him. “I want an apology and love letter. Handwritten until your hand hurts.”

“Fair.” He nodded, his smile getting bigger.

“I want apologies from everyone involved with the bet too.” You added.

He tilted his head in thought. “I can do that.”

“Better get started.”

“Right after this.” He said and cupped your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you gently. “You're so cute when you're upset.”

“I'm about to be downright adorable if you don't get to work now, Riddle.”

“Fine.” He said, stepping back towards your door. “You're gonna love me tomorrow, though! Just wait!” He smiled at you as he left your dorm.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[lihhelsing]

"Can I get your coffee order?"

STWG daily prompt 6/2/24 (let's pretend it's not two days late): Coming Out Pairing: steddie | tags: coming out, coffee shop au, modern au, meet cute, fluff

Eddie was used to seeing the same guy in the coffee shop every day. It was impossible not to notice him because he was gorgeous and Eddie was a simple man who liked to admire beautiful things. 

So Steve would come in every day and always at the same time, ordering the same thing. Double Espresso with a shot of Vanilla. It suited him, Eddie thought, but he would always see him looking at the menu as if he was considering ordering something different, just to end up with the same thing every day. 

It was kind of cute. 

Sometimes he would sit alone for half an hour, face buried in his phone. Sometimes a loud brunette girl would join him but then they would never stay for long. Eddie didn’t like those days even if he thought she looked like a nice person. 

And then sometimes Steve would come in and order for two, then he would proceed to sit at a table and in a few minutes a girl would join him. Always a different girl, which told Eddie none of them were his girlfriends. 

One could even think this was some sort of job interview because it was pretty clear Steve wasn’t fully into the conversation. He was trying, sure, but after an hour the girl would inevitably excuse herself and leave. Steve would hang out for a few more minutes and then leave too, not looking back. 

And he’d do it all over again on a different day. 

Eddie couldn’t even feel guilty about paying attention. Steve always came in when the rush hour had passed and the coffee shop was mostly empty, and Eddie didn’t have much to do. And yeah, sure he was also a little obsessed with him so he was curious what was all that about. 

Surely Steve didn’t seem the kind of guy to have dating issues. 

The day Eddie noticed something was different was when Steve came in and ordered a Chai Latte. For anyone else, this might mean nothing, but Eddie knew better and he had watched Steve for long enough to know that if he finally changed his order after months, something was up. 

He didn’t want to look like a creep so he smiled like he always did and thanked the fat tip Steve left him, like he always did. And maybe Eddie flirted a little, but who could blame him? Steve was just too handsome for his own good and Eddie was just a man. 

Eddie gave him his drink and politely waited for a few minutes just to make sure Steve wasn’t expecting anyone, and then he finally moved in. 

“Hey, how’s your drink?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Steve looked up at him through thick eyelashes and Eddie wanted to die a little. 

“Oh, it’s good. I never had one of these so I can’t really compare it to anything else, but I like how it tastes.”

Eddie hummed, “Well, tell you what, I make a mean Matchá if you ever feel like broadening your horizons.”

Steve chuckled and nodded, “I might take you up on that, actually.”

They stood in silence and Eddie was ready to accept his defeat when Steve spoke again. 

“I just… Started to realize I might want to try different things.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “how so?”

“Well, I used to drink the same coffee every day and it was good, don’t get me wrong. But I kept looking and looking and it felt like I was... Missing something,” Steve frowned as he spoke, almost as if he was talking about coffee but thinking about something else. 

“It’s what they say, don’t knock it til you try it, am I right?”

Steve chuckled and Eddie was under the impression he was just being polite. 

“For sure. It’s just hard sometimes, to try new things. Even if you are… Curious.”

“I say just go for it. The worst that can happen is you spend a few bucks on something you will never want to drink again, but if that ever happens I got you. I’ll get you something different on the house,” Eddie said and then he winked because he was a sick little man. 

The blush that crept onto Steve’s cheek was beautiful, though, so he was only half-sorry. 

“Oh, what if… It’s not coffee that I want to try?” Steve said, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie smiled and motioned his hand to the drink menu, “Lucky for you we have an assortment of drinks like refreshers and matchá and even some teas-“

“I mean, what if this isn’t about drinks?” 

Now Eddie was completely lost. He looked back to meet Steve’s eyes and there was an intensity behind them that gave him chills. 

“What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Steve looked around as if making sure the place was empty and still lowered his voice a little. “What if I’m not as straight as I always thought I was?”

Eddie tried to contain his surprise and forced his expression to remain neutral, not wanting to spook him. 

“That’s ok, too. Lord knows I’m gay as it comes and it took me a few tries to figure it out,” Eddie chuckled, but Steve’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I mean, you don’t have to be gay either! You can be bi or pan or-“

“Sorry, I made this awkward. I’m sorry. I’ve just been having these feelings and Robin says I can always talk to her but it feels that if I even ask it will be real and then if I turn out to be just confused then she will be disappointed because she always said I was her straight token friend but I know she would be happy if I wasn’t-“

“Hey, hey,” Eddie moved his hand and touched Steve’s shoulder lightly. He just hoped he wasn’t crossing a line. That definitely wasn’t the first time a customer said something incredibly personal out of the blue, but it was the first time someone was coming out to him like that. 

Steve looked up at him with huge brown eyes and Eddie felt his insides melting a little. Here it was, this cute guy having a sexuality crisis and just looking even cuter. 

“I don’t know you and obviously don’t know this friend of yours. Robin, is it? But if she loves you, and I’m assuming she does, she will love you no matter what. Even if you have to come out to her as… Straight?” Eddie said that and got a snort back from Steve. 

At least that was better than the desolation he had in his eyes before. 

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said, nodding his head. 

“And hey, you can definitely try things out and figure out you were straight all along, but from my experience, straight people don’t usually question their sexuality or even feel the curiosity to do so. They just are. So my best bet would be on you being one of us. Assuming your friend Robin is also not straight.”

“Oh, definitely not,” Steve said, laughing and he just looked so much better like that. 

“Well, ok Steve, then my job here is done! I’m sure Robin will have much better advice to give to you, but you can always count on me to try different coffees,” and there it was, the fucking wink again. Who did Eddie think he was? 

Steve blushed again and now Eddie could see they were pretty damn close. He slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s shoulder as to not make him uncomfortable, but it seemed that Eddie’s pep talk had done the trick because now Steve had this glint in his eyes. 

“Can I buy you coffee?” he asked, smiling slowly. 

“Uh, what?”

“You know, since I’m already trying things I thought it would be nice to try uh… A Matchá, you said? And a… Date?”

Holy fucking Jesus. Steve was fucking smooth. Eddie felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked around to conclude they were still alone at the coffee shop. There was not a single reason for him to turn this down even if Steve ended up figuring out he was straight. Yeah, fat chance. 

“Lead the way, big boy,” Eddie motioned for the counter and Steve smiled, nodding and following him right into their first date. 

[coff33andb00ks]

Hopeless - LN

Lando Norris x fem!reader (mentions of Charles Leclerc x fem!reader) Summary: and you know damn well that for you, I would ruin myself a million little times Word count: 2012 Themes: angst, forbidden love(?) Warnings: cheating, charles is a bad boyfriend, cursing, Oscar knows everything, barely proofread, not a happy ending Notes: I watched one too many she chose me/did she? tiktoks and this was born. Also please don't take this as me condoning cheating (unless you can cheat with Lando).

Lando isn't one hundred percent sure how it began, not really. He remembers the first move, the bit of shock when you didn't reject him, but he doesn't remember how – or when or why – he fell for you. He knows he didn't just wake up one day saying to himself right today's the day I fall in love.

It all started so innocently. Right? He found out you liked gaming and casually invited you to his place to try out his setup when you mentioned you were looking to upgrade. He'd expected Charles to come with you but had shrugged it off, too excited to share his love for gaming. You stayed most of the afternoon, laughing and he'd had the tiniest of crushes by the time you left. And when you upgraded you asked him to come over to help you set it up.

Crush: intensified.

He's pretty sure he liked you so much because you didn't talk about racing with him. He could be "normal" around you, just like any other guy in his 20s who loved video games and driving fancy cars and blasting music. Soon he was dropping by or inviting you over on off days. He didn't think anything of it. You were a friend, and Charles obviously didn't mind, so why deny himself the pleasure of your company?

Crush: die-hard. To the point Max and Oscar teased him about it.

He likes you most in his apartment. On race weekends at a track you were calm, cool, and collected in designer brands, the picture perfect girlfriend of everyone's favorite Ferrari driver. But at his place, you were… Y/n. Yapping nonstop and dancing in his living room, curled up under a blanket on his sofa watching the latest period drama, in his kitchen baking treats he isnt' supposed to eat.

It was, he thought after hugging you goodbye one night, kind of like having a girlfriend without the stress.

He still dated. Casually. Because he couldn't justify putting all the time and effort into finding a girlfriend. It was so much easier to sleep around and be friends with you. Fucked up, yeah, but easier.

Then on an off weekend you showed up unannounced, looking like you wanted to cry.

And he would have done anything to keep that from happening.

"I just needed to get away," you said, and Lando nodded, letting you in and pretending the smell of your perfume didn't affect him.

You didn't want to talk about it and he didn't pressure you. He gave you the remote and fixed you a drink and parked himself on the other end of the sofa with his laptop to edit some photos while you found some old movie to put on.

"Lan?" you asked after a while.

"Hmm?" He didn't look away from his laptop.

"If Charles…" You sighed. "If he cheated on me you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Immediately," he said without hesitation. Then, as your words registered, he saved his progress and closed the laptop, slowly turning to look at you. "Do you think he's cheating?"

You shrugged, eyes firmly on the TV.

"Y/n. C'mon, talk to me." Lando set the laptop aside and picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"I'm just being stupid."

He waited, and then listened while you listed off the reasons you were considering that Charles was cheating. How he'd stayed out late the night before, had left early this morning for a last minute trip to the Ferrari factory. Facing you, he moved closer, until he could hold your hand. Then, when you finished, he rattled off the usual signs of cheating to see if anything matched.

You looked at him oddly. "Got a lot of experience with cheating?"

Lando giggled, as he always did when asked a stressful question. "What? Me? Nah."

"Fucking liar," you muttered, rolling your eyes.

"No, no, I never lie when I'm fucking," he said, wondering why the words were coming out of his mouth before he finished saying them. Glancing upwards, he pinched his brows together. "Well, wait, maybe I have… Like when it's mediocre but you need to get off so you say it's good?"

You laughed, which was always his goal with you. He loved your laugh, adored the way you threw your head back, and always joined in as soon as the snort you despised escaped.

"Oh god Lan," you giggled, and moved to hug him.

And he knew he was a goner. Because you felt so good in his arms. He hugged you close. He knew the healing power of a good hug but also held onto you for more selfish reasons, committing the feel of you tucked so close to his memory, breathing in the scent of you. Easing his grip as you began to pull away, he felt his breath catch in his throat when you paused, looking into his eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"You know I'm always here for you." He smiled. He liked that he could make you feel better. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he had to go and ruin everything. Reaching up, he lightly smoothed your cheek with his fingers. "If he is cheating, he's a fucking moron. You're not even my girl and I can't find anyone that compares."

He still can't remember how you'd initially reacted. Surprise, probably. Maybe a little shock. But he would forever remember the way you'd breathed his name, as though Lando were a prayer, and that you'd both leaned in at the same time.

And he was certain that until his last breath he would recall every detail of what had followed. The kiss, everything pure and perfect, your hands on his neck. Him pulling you closer, both of you moaning. It had been frantic, every shred of neediness and longing pouring from his mouth to yours, every late night dream running through his mind, each fantasy he'd allowed himself to think of coming true before he'd tasted your skin.

You stayed the night, and he'd discovered that you'd fantasized, too.

***

"You good mate?"

Lando blinks, seeing Oscar in the doorway. "Yeah," he lies, rolling his shoulders. "Just thinking of strats for tomorrow."

"You've been listening to the same song for almost an hour."

Fuck. "No I haven't." He pauses the song, rubbing the back of his neck and finally moving to finish dressing. "It's a good song."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting weird for a couple months now," Oscar says.

Lando swallows the shame. It's not that he feels guilty. He's content with the arrangement between you. Not that anything is set in stone, but it's an unspoken agreement. You're still with Charles – who, it turned out, was cheating but it was a minor fling – and he's single. Technically. In his heart, he's yours.

He almost laughs because it's so beyond fucked up now.

But he can't let anyone else find out. He's been around long enough to know that you'd be the one labeled as a whore. Even though everyone's aware of Charles' infidelity, it would be your fault. And Oscar…

For someone whose entire persona is I really don't give a fuck I'm here to race, the bastard knows everything. He's like a cat. He's always there, and even when he's not listening he soaks it all in like a sponge.

He spritzes a little more cologne on himself and pulls on his hoodie. "Dunno what you're talking about, mate."

"You haven't gone out to celebrate since Miami."

Of course he hasn't. Miami was the night he'd gotten just drunk enough to dance too close to you. The secretly snapped pictures of his face in your neck are still popping up on social media. "It gets old after a while, Osc."

Oscar folds his arms over his chest and leans in the doorway. "For me, yeah. For you? Not buying it."

Goddamn the sponge cat for being so observant. Lando shrugs, maintaining he façade of yep I'm good. "Osc—"

"Is it because of y/n?"

Ice water floods his veins. He can feel the blood draining from his face and his palms begin to sweat. You've both been so careful, Miami notwithstanding. He never takes you out, makes a point to not sit too close to you in a group setting, and is his so-called normal self anytime someone else is around. It's different alone, but – oh. "You mean in Miami?" he asks casually, fixing his necklace and lifting his foot to tie his shoe.

"You were weird about her before Miami."

Oh god. "It was just a stupid crush." He ties his other shoe and checks his pockets for his wallet and hotel key. "I'm over it now."

"Lando."

"What?" He practically snaps the word out and instantly regrets it, but he can't talk to Oscar about this. Oscar will never be able to understand. "Look, I gotta go, need to get rest for tomorrow."

"Oh. I thought… I guess you are over it." Oscar gives a tiny shrug.

Lando freezes. "Why are you talking in riddles?"

"You didn't see them fighting?"

He jerks his head to stare at his teammate. When he speaks, his voice nearly cracks. "Fighting?"

"Well, arguing. I don't know what about, I didn't catch any of it. I only saw him trying to talk to her and she shoved him and stormed off."

No wonder you haven't replied to his texts. His hand aches to pull out his phone and call you to check on you. To make sure you're okay. You and Charles don't fight often but Lando knows of your tendency to go and cry until you figure out a resolution. "What did they fight about?"

"I don't know."

Lando swallows anxiously, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "Where'd she go?"

"No clue."

"You're really no fucking help," Lando mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and brushing past him to leave the room.

"Thought you were over it?" Oscar asks softly.

Lando freezes again, anguish twisting in his chest at the thought of ever being over you. "I… She's my friend. It's… Y/n… She's…"

"She's what?"

Everything but his. Real and true and more than he ever thought he could have. His daily sunshine and his nightly fantasy. The open ear when he's having a rough go, the tight embrace when he needs grounding. His source of peace and his greatest torment.

"Fucking hell, mate," Oscar whispers.

"I gotta go," Lando says.

And he leaves, not sure why he feels so anxious all of a sudden. Everything feels off. He tells himself it's because Oscar knows, or at least thinks he knows, and that's got to be the reason. He's fine. You're fine. Nothing's changing just because you had a fight with Charles. It'll blow over and by morning things will be as they have been.

The trip to the hotel seems to take forever and he's even more uneasy as he sits in traffic a few cars back from the valet. He should have gotten an Uber or caught a ride with someone. Despite the air conditioning going he's sweating, because you still haven't replied to his texts, and when he tries to call you it goes straight to voicemail.

Hey y/n, call me when you can?

But you don't.

He stays up late, hoping you'll at least send him a text letting him know you're okay. His sleep is restless, plagued with the worst possible scenarios. When his alarm goes off he hits snooze one too many times and so has to rush to the track, trying to push everything out of his mind as race time approaches. Checking social media so he can engage with the team posts hyping up his and Oscar's starting positions, he can only stare at the screen when Instagram loads.

You. And Charles. Cozied up like soulmates. There's candlelight and flowers.

But all he can stare at is the diamond on your finger. And, just beneath the photo, Charles' short caption.

She said yes.

*~end~*

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 9

warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, praise.

Part 9

"What did I miss?" Liana asked as she sat down, seeing the boys exchange looks. Sometimes they spoke without words. She always envied that connection. She didn’t have anyone who could understand her with just a nod or a blink or, in this case, a stare.

"Hello, Earth to Art and Patrick?" she tried to join in, but something about the current situation didn’t feel right. "It's my turn to go inside. I need to drink some water. You two catch up, it's been a while since you’ve seen each other," Art said without looking at her, causing Liana to frown as he walked away. "That was weird, right?" she asked Patrick, who responded with a half-smile. "When is Art not weird?" he said. "How are you?" he asked, turning his gaze back to her and seeing her give the widest smile she could offer anyone. "Do you forgive me?" she asked, moving to sit next to him, placing her head on his shoulder. "What do I have to forgive you for, Amanda?" he chuckled, tracing shapes on her shoulder while taking another sip of champagne. "I was terrible. The exams made me crazy," she tried to justify her behavior over the past month. "Do you know if you're leaving yet?" he asked. "I’ll know when we get back from vacation. I’m terrified," she murmured. On one hand, Liana desperately wanted that year in Oxford. She wanted to see Europe. The architecture. The atmosphere. The culture. She wanted to see something other than the American suburb she had lived in her whole life, with the same people and the same opinions and the same tennis. On the other hand, she didn’t want to break her parents’ hearts. Her parents who had always talked about Stanford and how she’d join the family business after she finished school, and her parents who were the best people she knew but whose dreams for her flew past them as if they were never there. And now there was Art too. Art, who in the past two days had made her feel things she had never felt before. Art, who in the months at Stanford had become an inseparable part of her life. Art, who made her stomach ache at the thought of not seeing him for a year. Art, who still didn’t know she was considering leaving. "You’ll pass that test, we both know you will," Patrick said calmly. "And then you'll conquer Europe, building by building." He chuckled, but his voice faded with each word. "And we'll stay here, missing you," he said, and she straightened up, looking at him. "I’m not going to die, you know," Liana rolled her eyes, trying to lighten the conversation. "No, you're just going to meet people much better than us, and I'm enough of a bastard to be worried about that," he said honestly. "I don’t think there are many people in the world better than you, Patrick," she concluded. The next day Art left. He texted her that a spot opened up in some tennis group he could join, and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity. That he’d see her at Stanford. When Liana tried to call, he didn’t answer. So they kept missing each other throughout the vacation, she trying to call just as he was going into practice or the shower or falling asleep, and him sending messages that he was okay, just busy. On the last day of the vacation, she received a message that her exam results had come in. She had been accepted. Liana cried. Which wasn’t anything special because objectively Liana cried a lot, but this time she cried out of excitement. All the effort she put in had paid off, and now she could prepare for the student exchange. She could make her dream come true, start being a real person in the world. The conversation with her parents was horrible. There were shouts and accusations, and her mother said they wouldn’t pay for this, which Liana had suspected might happen. Her father seemed more conciliatory but didn’t say much. "Do you think Mom will be mad at me for long?" she asked him on the way to the airport. If there was one thing Liana hated, it was that it was always obvious she had been crying. Her pale face would turn red, and her eyes would swell, sometimes for days. This was one of those cases. It could be said with confidence that Liana looked like she had been run over by a bus yesterday.

"I know it doesn’t look like it, but we’re proud of you. Mom will come around, don’t worry," her father hugged her as they got out of the car. "I want this so much, Dad," she sighed.

"I know, honey," he said, kissing the top of her head. He hated seeing the emotional turmoil his daughter was in. His daughter, who above all feared disappointing people. "I’ll come back to Stanford after that," she mumbled, feeling the lump in her throat take over again. "I don’t want her to hate me," she looked at him with teary eyes.

"She doesn’t hate you. Li, look at me." Her father tried to wipe her tears. "Your mother is a stubborn woman, and you’ll see that a month after you’re there, she’ll come visit you." He smiled, and she nodded, not sure she believed what he said. "Besides, you have another semester at Stanford. Make the most of it, maybe you’ll love the place as much as we did." He shrugged, seeing her take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I love you, Dad," she hugged him again and started to walk away, hoping everything would calm down and her mother would eventually look at her like she did before she told her she was planning to leave. Art opened the door after five knocks, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "Did we have plans?" he asked. "Hey Arthur, I missed you too," she rolled her eyes and gave him a small kiss on the lips, seeing him close his eyes and deepen the kiss within seconds as he closed the door. "Hey," he smiled at her and moved her hair out of her face. "Have you been crying?" he asked after examining her. Art couldn’t stop himself from asking. It was like an instinct; seeing what he could do to make her feel better. But he was so mad at her that he didn’t really want to talk to her or know how she felt right now; after all, she didn’t care how he felt. He did want to fuck her. He wanted to feel like she was his. He was afraid he was a little addicted to the feeling of looking at her and feeling like she was entirely his. He was afraid that if she left, he wouldn’t feel that way again. He was afraid of losing.

"Did you know?" his mother asked on the phone. Her voice worried. "What?" he returned the question, panting after practice. "That Liana is planning to leave for Oxford? Did you know that?" she demanded the truth. And the truth was that he knew she was leaving. But he didn’t know where or when and he didn’t know it was official. His heart pounded faster. "Yes, I knew," he mumbled, not wanting to reveal how far he felt from Liana in reality. Not wanting to reveal how stupid he felt that of all people, Patrick knew before him. "How could you not say anything, Art, she's our Liana. How will she manage in England alone? She barely manages to find her way in the supermarket without getting lost," his mother sighed. And she was right. He knew she was right. And she wasn’t even their Liana; she was his Liana. And she was his Liana for exactly two days. What an idiot he is. "She’s a big girl. She can navigate the supermarket in England without getting lost. I have to go," he mumbled, angry at himself for still feeling the need to protect her. "Just tired from the flight," she smiled at him a tired smile and felt his lips leaving small kisses on her neck, causing her to close her eyes. "Can I help?" his voice was teasing as he took off her shirt without much resistance. Examining her for a second, as if trying to remember how she looked. "You're already helping," she smiled a genuine smile, and his lips were on her again, hungrier than she had felt him so far. "I want you so much, Li," he groaned into her mouth. His tongue intertwining with hers as if he had wandered for years in the desert and she was his source of water. "Do you want this?" he asked, as they moved to his bed and she nodded. In complete haze, at this point, she decided that Art Donaldson could do whatever he wanted with her. And it was a liberating decision. Knowing she was safe in his hands and he decided how good she could feel now. "Words, Liana," he demanded as he started taking off her jeans. She didn’t even notice she was already half-naked in front of him. "You're wearing too many clothes," she mumbled incoherently as his hand brushed over her panties. "You're already wet, Li?" his voice was amused as he took off his shirt. "Already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet," he whispered in her ear and heard her moan, which caused him to release a groan of his own. "Do you want this?" he asked again. This time his hand applied more pressure over her panties. "Art." Her voice was desperate. "Please," she whispered, and he bit his lip. Stopping himself from all the things he wanted to do with her. "Please, what?" he asked, his mouth close to hers, teasing, barely touching. He kissed her right cheek and then her left

"Touch me. Please," she almost cried out of frustration and desperation, exactly the way he wanted her. His. His again. And he felt desperate too, so her panties came off in a flash and he gave her exactly what she wanted. He heard her moan beneath him as his fingers moved inside her rhythmically. He felt how tight she was. He tried not to imagine his dick inside her, thinking he might not last. She was a virgin. He knew that. She had told him. He was going to be the first inside her. "So good for me, Li," he murmured and smiled, never taking his eyes off her. He didn't think anyone could look better than Liana did now, beneath him, eyes closed, desperate sounds escaping her, moaning his name. He was sure the student in the room next door was jerking off to the sound of her. He was sure no one in the world could resist Liana Levy when she looked like that beneath him. He was no different from anyone else. Almost captivated. Almost helpless. Just wanting to deliver. Just wanting her to always be like that for him. His lips roamed over her body until they reached her clit, while his hand sped up.

"You take me so well, Li," he said as the room filled with the sound of her fluids and moans.

"I'm going to-" she mumbled, her voice breaking, making him look up at her. He had to see her come. He had to remember this moment.

"Come for me, Li, come on. I want to see you," he demanded in the most authoritative voice he could muster, even though he felt himself melting under her influence.

"Art," she moaned again.

And he was right, her face in that moment was truly the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his 20 years of existence. Her half-open mouth, her eyes closed, slightly teary, her hand on her breast. It was a magnificent sight and he knew only he had seen her like this.

Her body shook and he gave one last kiss on her sensitive clit, then stood before her.

"Open your eyes, Li," he said, and she did exactly as he commanded. "Kiss me. Taste yourself." Another half-command with a smile and scheming eyes. Within seconds, her lips were on his, her tongue mingling with his intensely, just wanting more.

"I want to be inside you," he murmured, and she nodded. "Can I?" he asked. He had to ask. He knew she could say no and he would have to accept it, and if he were less greedy, he might even be satisfied with that anyway.

But he was so angry with her. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to know that just as he was hers, she was his. That she couldn't just ignore him like that. Dismiss him as if he didn't matter.

"Yes," she murmured into his mouth, feeling him smile against her.

"Yes, what?" he asked, teasing.

"Fuck me," she whispered, and it came out vulgar and blunt, uncharacteristic of the girl in front of him. She was even surprised by the words that left her mouth, her eyes widening for a moment before remembering it was Art and relaxing. She was safe with Art. He wouldn't use her words against her. It was okay for her to need him.

"I didn't hear you," he murmured, removing the rest of his clothes and moving to his desk to grab a condom. "I'm on this side of the room, Liana. You need to speak louder." He leaned against the wall as he put the condom on, taking a breath. He had to steady his breathing if he wanted to last inside her for more than three seconds.

"Please, Art. I want to feel you inside me," she said louder, more confidently, more desperately. He moved toward her. "Please fuck me," she looked him in the eyes and bit her lip, feeling almost small but also kind of powerful. He looked almost as desperate as she did as his hand traced her face and then her chest, stopping at her sensitive nipple, making her moan.

"That much, huh?" he asked, positioning the tip of his dick at her entrance and hearing her sigh in response. "Don't worry, I've got you. Are you going to be good for me, Li?" he asked, watching her nod in response. "Are you going to take me like you were made for me?" he asked again.

"Yes, please. Art." She was almost crying with frustration. Liana didn't know what to do to make him enter her already. To feel him. For him to fill her with himself. For him to be close to her. Part of her. She didn't know when she started feeling all these emotions for Art Donaldson, but now was not the time to figure it out. He began to slide into her.

"Oh, Art," she bit his shoulder, making him groan.

"Fuck, Liana. So tight. Fuck. Hang in there, baby, are you okay?" he asked, studying her.

"More," she mumbled. The pain didn't matter. She just wanted him. She wanted all of him. He did move more. A bit more each time. Another moan and another sigh each time until he was fully inside her. Their lips merged in their most sloppy kiss yet. They were one for a moment.

"You can move," she managed to say after a few seconds.

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeing her nod. "Fuck, Li. I won't last long like this," he murmured, his movements gentle. He was careful with her.

When he felt he was close and knew she wouldn't come from the first time someone inside her, he added a finger to play with her clit.

"Fuck, Art," she moaned his name for the umpteenth time.

"I know. You're doing such a good job, Li, taking care of me so well," he said, feeling her tighten around him, bringing him to the edge almost with her.

After a few seconds, he gently pulled out of her, seeing her panting and feeling just as spent. He took off the condom and walked it to the trash, finding his boxers on the way and putting them on. He saw the girl in front of him, completely naked. Completely his.

"When were you planning to tell me?" he asked, looking at her from a distance.

Liana was still in euphoria, her eyes half-closed, confused by the question. "What are you talking about?" she sounded amused, looking at him with a smile as he put on a shirt. For a moment, she felt fragile, not understanding how she was still completely naked while he was fully dressed in front of her.

"About leaving Stanford. About Oxford? I don't know. Maybe there are more things you'd like to tell me." His gaze was cold, making Liana freeze too. She felt her nakedness now. She understood why he was dressed and she wasn't. She was vulnerable right now.

"How long have you known?" she asked quietly, swallowing and searching for her clothes.

"My mom asked me about it yesterday," he said, never taking his eyes off her. "Do you know how stupid I felt when I lied and told her I knew?" he asked. His voice didn't rise, but the frustration was clear.

"Art, I found out two days ago," her eyes glistened and she breathed quickly, feeling everything slipping away from her. He was slipping away from her.

"You're lying," he stated with an eye roll, sitting down on the bed.

"Art," she knelt in front of him, studying his face. He showed no emotion, only coldness.

"It's okay, Liana. We both know what this is," he said, instinctively moving her hair out of her face.

"What is it?" she swallowed. She knew Art. She knew he was about to say something he'd regret, and yet she still pushed him to say it.

"It's me passing time until Tashi realizes she wants me," he said, seeing her expression change to one he'd never seen on her before. She moved his hand from her face quickly and scooted back on the floor as fast as he didn't know she was capable of, as if afraid of his touch.

"Wow." She swallowed, looking at him, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," she tried to salvage the situation, and he chuckled.

"Come on, Liana." He rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, no longer looking at her.

"You just fucked me, Art." She felt sick. It was the first time she had slept with someone. He knew that. She felt so humiliated.

"I know. I was there, and if I remember correctly, you asked for it. More precisely, you begged-"

"Shut up. Just shut up." She cut him off and stood up. She couldn't hide her tears anymore.

"Why did you do it? We could have just continued meeting at family dinners. Seeing each other in the hallway and occasionally saying hello. Why did you do it?" It came as a sob. She had never felt so humiliated. It was like a truck had run over her.

"I was bored, and you were cute, and let's be honest, a little desperate," her hand found its way to his cheek with a force neither of them knew she possessed. She wanted to apologize automatically because she wasn't violent, but it didn't come out.

"I hate you so much. I will never forgive you. You are the worst person I know." She mumbled and moved toward the door.

"At least I beat Patrick to it," he found himself saying. He had to have the last word in every argument.

"No, Art. You lost to Patrick. Even in twenty years, you won't have half the character and heart that Patrick has already. You're a complete loser compared to him, and I hope you never forget that." She said without stuttering while he didn't take his eyes off her, swallowing hard, finally hearing the door slam.

The moment Liana reached her room, after passing a considerable number of people who looked at her with worried expressions, some even trying to ask if she was okay, she collapsed on the floor and let out the loudest cry that had probably ever escaped her. She felt dirty. Almost used. She had trusted the wrong person.

She picked up the phone to call the only person she thought could understand her.

"Liana, are you okay?" Patrick sounded concerned and confused, probably because of the late hour.

"He really hurt me and I didn't know who else to call," she managed to say through her tears, hearing Patrick sigh, as if silently saying he knew. He knew this would happen.

Writing this part kinda broke me. I know Art was being cruel, but well, he was acting out without thinking about the consequences. Got your requests and maybe on the weekend we'll give Liana/Patrick/Art some more layers. Keep sending me questions and such. I LOVE it. Hope you're still enjoying and again, if you wanna join the taglist, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss @ganana @yoitsme-04 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @serenadingtigers

[marcysgf]

attention.

★ – satoru wants your attention ;)

18+, mdni !!

☆ – this is my first time writing smut, sorry if it's bad :p pluzzz english is not my first language !

– ★ –

you knew you should've known better than to invite your friends to go out with you. not that they were bad or something, much the contrary. it's just that you knew he would come along, he always did. even after you broke up, a few months ago, he'd still make sure to go to every party you've been thinking about going to.

if it was just him being there, it'd be completely alright, you weren't children and could stay at the same room for a few hours without fighting. it would all be perfectly fine if satoru wasn't an attention seeker, doing his best to catch your attention and even ruining your potential dates.

it was always the same: every time a guy would even try to even look at you or try to approach you, he'd just wrap his arm around your waist in a possessive way while staring directly at the guy, or he'd just kiss the first person he saw in front of you, just to see if it'd bother you. it always did, even though you'd rather die than admit it. and, unfortunately for you, tonight was not different.

you were laughing at a joke a guy had just told you, a margarita in one hand while the other one landed on his large arm, a small smirk on your lips as you watched him practically eye fucking you. if you were lucky enough, you'd end up having more fun than planned at the end of the night. but, of course, all your plans were ruined again as soon as the white haired man came in scene.

“princess, you said you'd only get some drinks and come back, why are you taking so long?” his whiny voice echoed in your ears as his face approached your neck, leaving a wet kiss on it while his long arms snaked around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. “oh, and who would that be?”

you gritted your teeth in annoyance at the man behind you, holding the urge to punch him right in face. you could feel the smirk in his voice as he stared at the poor guy, who watched the scene with a confused expression. “oh baby, is this guy bothering you? knew i shouldn't have left you alone, now everyone thinks they could talk to such a pretty thing like ya. now, buddy, will ya excuse us? need to have my girlfriend back.”

“satoru, fuck off. we already broke up months ago, stop acting like we're together.” you protested, trying to leave his embrace but he only tightened it, squeezing your waist.

“umm, sorry, i should leave now.” the guy said sheepishly, his face beet red as he quickly left the two of you alone.

and you just sat there in disbelief, your hand gripping the cup so tightly you thought it might break at any moment. gojo laughed childishly, making your even more angrier as you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes as he whined in your ear, telling you how mean you are.

“satoru, what in the fucking hell is wrong with you?!”

“what? can't i protect what's mine?” he answered simply, leaving a playful bite at your earlobe.

“i'm not yours and you know that damn well. stop acting like an asshole every time we go out!”

“is that so?” he smirked again, letting go of your body just to stand in front of you. his large hand carefully held your chin as it pulled you closer to his face, the delicious mix of his expensive cologne and the smell of the alcohol on his breath invading your nose. “if you hate it so much, why do you keep inviting me, baby? hm? hoping to wake up in my bed again?”

“fuck you, satoru.” you harshly reply, wanting to leave him alone but not being able to move a single muscle, your own body betraying you. your eyes flick to his rosy lips, then back to his blue eyes again. ignoring the way your brain yelled at you to stop, your body moved closer to his, your lips softly brushing against his before closing the gap, a quiet moan leaving both your mouths at the contact.

and that is how you ended up in this situation: your legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips hit the back of your thighs repeatedly, the loud sound of slapping skin echoing through his room. satoru's grip on your plush thighs were almost bruising the skin as his cock bullied the inside of your pussy, his tip kissing all the right spots with every thrust.

“fuck, baby, you're so hot.” he managed to say between his moans “missed– fuck– missed your pretty pussy... always take me so well.”

you moan loudly at his raspy voice, your pussy clenching hard around his dick as your hand sneaked between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. it's barely been five minutes and you could already feel the knot tightening inside your stomach, your legs shaking lightly. and, of course, satoru noticed, how could he not when it was so hard to move when your pussy was squeezing his dick so much?

“gonna cum, pretty girl?” he smirk, his hand replacing your on your throbbing clit. “just f'me, right? you're all mine. bet that guy wouldn't even be able to satisfy you, you'd probably leave unsatisfied and come back to me, huh.”

“fuck, 'toru, just like that.” your moans are like music to his ears, and he makes sure to get them out of you with every move of his hips. your hands massaged your boobs through the lacy bra, pinching your sensitive nipples as you feel his cock massaging repeatedly your g-spot. your high came shortly after a few strokes of his, your whole body shaking in pleasure.

you whine loudly at the overstimulation, his cock never leaving your sensitive cunt, fucking it mercilessly. satoru groaned in your neck, biting it hard while he came inside you, his thrusts slowing down and becoming sloppier, his sticky cum painting your insides, as he was making a mess because he wouldn't stop even after cumming.

“t-toru, ah... too much, baby” he laughed quietly at your whiny voice, finally stopping the attack on your pussy. he slowly pulled back, his now soft dick leaving your warm cunt as he smiled at the mess he made.

“hmm, would've ruined your date earlier if i knew i could get to fuck you like this.” he joked while teasing your sensitive entrance with his long fingers, watching you shudder. he then kneeled down in front of you, his mouth leaving a wet kiss on your clit. “we're not done yet, pretty, need to make up for the time we lost.”

[slytherinshua]

2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you. 

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea. 

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am. 

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowly down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart. 

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit. 

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone

[oneday-yourside]

Harry's world/Bad end

Inspired by Christina's world by Andrew Wyeth

[symbioticsimplicity]

@harrgrove Got me thinking about something I almost never see but now have a voracious craving for.

Consider, platonic soulmates Jonathan and Billy.

It would take them a hell of a lot to start talking, and even if they did, they’re both awkward as all hell so it wouldn’t be immediate like it was for Steve and Robin. It’s a little more hard won, but once they start talking, they quickly find they have so much in common it’s frankly ridiculous they haven’t talked before.

Imagine them finding they have incredibly similar outlooks and they think almost the same way. They quickly fall into that pseudo mind-reading thing, and they’re able to tell at a glance how the other is feeling even if no one else is able to see past their fronts.

Billy helps Jonathan learn to be a little more assertive where he needs to be, or if he’s around he’ll just do it for him since he has no problem sliding into that role. Jonathan helps Billy learn how to calm the hell down, how to handle the anger he lives with. They balance each other in a way neither realized they needed until it happened.

Of course, the obligatory understanding between them due to their shit dads. Something something, Billy is spiraling about it, something something Jonathan takes the first step to show vulnerability by showing him one of the scars Lonnie left on him, something something, Billy becomes fiercely protective of him while also seeing him as a safe place to be vulnerable about how badly Neil has hurt him. Jonathan helping him through the process of unlearning all the shit Neil beat into him, and in turn Jonathan feels a part of himself healing along with Billy.

Why pit them against each other when we could have this??

[attractthecrows]

retconning stroud out of the deep roads so i can shove laure amell and the hawke siblings and varric and anders all into the same little camp. they would all have such a bad time

[dante-mightdie]

thinking about you and simon being the fresh start for the riley bloodline. years of abuse throufhout his childhood left simon with a bitter taste in his mouth towards parenthood. never had any desire to start a family and was perfectly content with letting the riley name die with him

until, of course, the idiot went and fell in love. married in your early twenties and a brood of kids before you even hit 30. your children raised in a home built on trust and respect, their parents the picture of example of true love

and by the time you’re in your late fifties, you’ve got grandkids on your hands. the house had felt lonely when all your children fled the nest but now you get to enjoy retirement with your husband and have your home full of babies again on the weekends when you’re children need a break

it never stopped being surreal for simon, even when you’re both in your seventies. still living in the home you built together when you first married. the idea that simon riley, a man legally dead to the world, had a family. and not just a family, a big one. who he loves and cherishes. who love and cherish him back

a man who had spent many holidays alone, drinking himself into a stupor, is now a happy old man with a full house every holiday. the family home filled with children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, cousins and in-laws. the riley family reborn from the love you share with your husband

forever in love with you until he takes his last breath, and then he’ll spend eternity searching for you in his next life

[nottsangel]

our girl — j.m & r.c.

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader x rafe cameron

warnings: smut 18+, violence, polyamorous relationship, threesome, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), possessiveness, degradation, praise, fingering, hair pulling, creampie, squirting, spitting, kelce and topper walking in lol

word count: 2.6k

summary: your boyfriends show their possessive side when they see someone flirting with you at a party.

a/n: based on a lucid dream i had. i died while writing this

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“You want another drink?” Sarah asked, downing what was left of her drink in one gulp. “No thanks, I’m gonna look for Rafe and JJ actually, haven’t seen them yet” you replied, your surroundings slightly spinning as you were already feeling pretty intoxicated. You smiled briefly at Sarah before walking away from the pool and heading inside Rafe’s house, the music of the party increasing.

It’s been a few months since you started dating your boyfriends— yes, boyfriends, because both of them were too obsessed with you so they decided to share you, treating you like their princess. It was intense sometimes, especially at the beginning when they had to get used to one another. Besides, a lot of people had various opinions on your relationship, but you still felt thankful and privileged to have boyfriends who were so sweet and caring. Especially considering that many girls would die to be in your position. Tonight is another one of Rafe’s parties, inviting all his kook friends as well as some pogues since JJ insisted on his friends being invited too.

You walked inside the crowded house full of intoxicated people and kissing couples, trying to find them. You glanced around, seeing many familiar faces but not your boyfriends. Just as you turned to go into another room, your arm was suddenly grabbed firmly. “Hey, beautiful.” you felt relieved, thinking it must’ve been Rafe or JJ when you realised you didn’t recognise the voice. You turned around in confusion and saw a blonde frat-looking guy check you out with a smirk on his face and a red cup in his hand. His blue eyes were fully fixed on you with a cocky smile on his face.

“Do I know you?” you asked, brows knitted together in confusion as you tried your best to refresh your memory, afraid that your intoxicated state made you forget who he was. “I’m Ryan. I used to hang out with Rafe, you know, back when he used to fuck a different girl every week” he said with a chuckle as you arched an eyebrow, unsure why he would bring that up. His smile vanished at the sight of your serious expression, before continuing, “Anyway… you want a drink, sweetheart?” he asked, motioning towards the drinks table. You gazed at him, wondering if he was aware of the dangerous game he was playing.

“No, thank you. I have to g-“ you started but he quickly cut you off, “Oh, come on! You think I’m scared of your boyfriends? One drink won’t hurt, loosen up a bit” he argued before he dragged you to the drinks table. You attempted to break free from his hold, but you were too intoxicated to react quickly and he was way stronger than you, clearly taking advantage of the situation.

“Here you go.” he said, handing you a new drink as you looked at it nervously. When he noticed your anxious expression he slid a hand around your waist as he came closer to you. “Hey, hey, don’t worry. Just wanna get to know my friend’s girlfriend, that’s all. I respect Rafe, you know.” he explained, easily convincing you in your drunken state as you took the cup from him with a relieved smile.

“So, tell me about-“ he started before being interrupted in an instant when his name was called, “Ryan!” You peeked around Ryan’s towering frame and saw Rafe and JJ making their way to you. Ryan instantly took his hand off your waist and went from having a relaxed stance to one that was stiff and nervous. Rafe had a menacing smile on his face as he eyed Ryan and JJ walked next to him, toying with the toothpick in his mouth.

“I see you’ve met our girlfriend.” Rafe said, standing just inches away from you two. “Such a pretty little thing, hm?” JJ added with a cheeky grin, clearly not taking the poor guy seriously. “Yeah man, we just talked about… stuff. She-she’s nice” he stammered, evidently nervous. Rafe nodded with a downward smile on his face and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I see, I see…”. “Look man, nothing happened, okay? We just talked, that’s it.” Ryan spoke up, trying his hardest to explain himself while JJ and Rafe exchanged glances, before giving each other a nod. “Fucking dumbass.” JJ sneered under his breath as he walked over to you, an arm sliding around your waist as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I understand man, no worries.” Rafe reassured before placing his arm over Ryan’s shoulder, “Let’s catch up outside, hmm? We haven’t spoken in so long, lots to talk about.” Rafe said as he led Ryan outside, making you turn to face JJ with a worried expression on your face. “What’s he going to do with him, J?” you asked, your brows knitted in concern. “Sssh, don’t worry about it, baby. He’s just gonna ask him to leave, that’s all.” he reassured, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and moving his head closer before pressing his lips on yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you were heavily making out against the table, causing you to forget about everything else. You were so caught up in the moment that it took you a while to eventually pull away from JJ as he gazed down at you with a loving smile on his face.

When you glanced over JJ’s shoulder, you gasped as your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. Rafe leaned over Ryan, who was on the ground, repeatedly punching him until blood was everywhere. “JJ!” you yelled in horror while pointing at the scene. “Oh, fuck” JJ muttered, not necessarily because of Rafe beating him up, but because of you witnessing it. He quickly spun you around so your back was facing the scene before cupping your face in his hands and desperately kissing you again in an attempt to distract you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around JJ’s neck, your intoxicated state causing you to forget about the situation again and only feeling hungry for JJ as you pressed him closer to you. His hands already found your ass as he squeezed it, not giving a fuck about anyone watching.

“My room. Now” Rafe ordered as he suddenly walked past you both, causing you to pull away from JJ as you watched Rafe climb the stairs. JJ grabbed your hand as he smirked at you, “You heard him, princess. Let’s go.” he said, pulling you along and leading you upstairs.

“Am I… Am I in trouble? you asked with a soft voice, following JJ in the hallway as you passed several kissing couples. JJ chuckled as he held the door handle to Rafe’s room. “I think we both know the answer to that.” he replied, making you gulp for a moment as he opened the door.

Rafe stood in the centre of the room, his arms folded with an angry expression on his face. Rafe's intimidating frame was accentuated by the lack of light in the room, as only a few red LED lights provided illumination. Even though JJ shut the door behind him, there was still a faint sound of shouting and music coming from downstairs through the walls. “Rafe, listen, I-“ Rafe interrupted you as soon as you attempted to explain, “We do the talking here, alright?” Rafe growled as JJ joined him, standing next to him as both of them eyed you while you walked to the bed, sitting down to relieve your sore feet from the heels you were wearing.

“You didn’t have to beat him up Rafe, I swear he didn’t do anything! He just offered me a drink and-“ you stopped when you heard both of them chuckle, looking at each other before gazing down at you. “I think our girl is a little confused, whatcha think J?” Rafe smirked while approaching you. “Nah, you’re right man. I think she forgot who she belongs to.” JJ agreed, nodding as he watched Rafe walk towards you.

Rafe bent down to get at eye level with you, then aggressively gripped your face, forcing you to look at him. “Two boyfriends is not enough for you? Hmm? God, you’re such a dirty little slut.” You were too afraid to speak as you gazed up at him. “Open that pretty mouth of yours” Rafe ordered and you obliged, opening your mouth widely before Rafe spit in it, “Swallow.” You swallowed while keeping your eyes on him, faces mere inches away from each other. A satisfied smile swept across Rafe’s face as he released his grip on your face, “Good girl.”

Rafe then moved aside, allowing JJ to approach you. JJ wasted no time and pushed you onto the bed, caging you in before planting sloppy kissing all over your neck and undressing you simultaneously, causing you to moan. “Tsk, what a dumb girl we have, Rafe.” he growled, sliding the straps of your dress down your arms before fully taking it off, leaving you in just your underwear. “But so fucking beautiful.” JJ took in your beauty with hungry eyes while biting his lip. He then discarded you of your underwear as well, tossing them across the room. “Make Rafe feel good, baby.”

JJ pushed himself off you while Rafe completely undressed himself, his fully erect cock leaking precum causing anticipation to rage through your body. He looked so beautiful— the red light accentuating the muscles on his body as he gazed down at you with dark eyes. He got on the bed, sitting against the bedframe before he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him. “Be a good girl and suck.”

You drew your head nearer, licking up the precum and swirling your tongue around the tip, earning a groan from him. He impatiently pushed your head down, forcing you down his cock. His hand grabbed your hair in a ponytail, preventing it from falling in your face as he bobbed your head up and down. “Fuck, just like that.” Rafe groaned as JJ slapped you on the ass, causing you to jolt forward.

“Our pretty girl.” JJ praised while he teased your entrance with his fingers, gathering the wetness and drawing circles on your clit. You moaned around Rafe’s cock, only egging him on as he bucked his hips upwards, causing you to gag. JJ then inserted two fingers into you with ease, as far as they could go. “So fucking wet for us.” JJ curled his fingers up inside you, pushing against your g-spot, causing your eyes to flutter shut as you let out a loud moan around Rafe’s cock once again. Rafe now grabbed your head with both hands, fully face-fucking you, using you as his personal toy, while JJ’s fingers increased their speed, causing your orgasm to approach.

“Cum around my fingers, sweet girl. Make a fucking mess.” JJ’s words pushed you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as you felt wetness all over. “Holy fuck, she squirted everywhere” JJ exclaimed, a chuckle leaving his mouth before he licked his fingers clean. “Dirty girl” Rafe groaned, his voice low and raspy as he continued to fuck your face.

You then heard the buckle of a belt behind you, and not much later you felt JJ’s cock teasing your folds, before fully pushing himself in. “Still so tight, fuck.” He groaned before setting a steady rhythm that made you grip the sheets. The sensation was almost becoming too much— the way JJ’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly and Rafe fucking into your mouth, saliva running down your face.

Just as you were about to come, the door suddenly swung open, the music and yelling from downstairs filling the room. JJ's thrusts came to a half when all of you looked to your side as your eyes began to widen. “Hey, Rafe, you got some- No fucking way.” “Goddamn.” Both Kelce and Topper stood in the doorway, a smirk on both their faces as they eyed every inch of your body. “Well, this is awkward.” JJ uttered as his lips tightened into a thin line. An irritated sigh left Rafe’s mouth as he rolled his eyes, “Get the fuck out before I fucking kill both of you!” He shouted, Kelce and Topper snickering when they left the room and shut the door behind them.

“Now, where were we?” JJ asked before abruptly slamming into you again, causing you to fall forward on Rafe’s chest. “Hey, hey,” Rafe took hold of your head, pulling it up with both hands as he raised his eyebrows at you, “Did I say you could stop sucking? Don’t think so.” He pushed you back on his cock with his hand behind your head, guiding you. You could feel JJ’s thrusts getting sloppy and lose rhythm, knowing he was close. “Fuck, gonna cum so deep inside this pretty pussy.” he growled before painting your walls with his warm cum, his hands firmly gripping your hips. You could feel his sperm dripping onto the bed as soon as he pulled out.

Rafe shoved you off him, causing you to look at him with a questioning expression, given that he hasn’t cum yet. “ Wanna cum inside that tight pussy of yours, filling you with both our cum.” he said as he stood up and flipped you over, causing a small squeal to leave your mouth as you were lying on your back. He grabbed your legs and spread them wider before spitting on your cunt and pushing into you in one quick thrust, making you scream out his name loudly. He immediately set a relentless pace, gripping your waist as he pounded into you while grunting, your tits bouncing to his rhythm.

“Doing so well for us, princess” JJ praised as he sat next to you, grabbing your face and kissing you passionately with his other hand massaging your boobs. You moaned into JJ’s mouth as Rafe placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching even deeper parts inside of you. “You wanna cum?” Rafe asked as you nodded, your eyes closed as your vision became blurry, “Then fucking beg for it.” “P-please, let me cum. I need to!” JJ chuckled as his hand slowly travelled to your core, drawing fast circles on your clit. “You hear that, Rafe? Our poor girl needs to cum.” Rafe groaned as he increased his speed and placed quick kisses on your legs. “Then let’s help her.”

JJ’s fingers quickened their speed as he marked your neck in hickeys, causing you to grip his arm hard, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin and Rafe was close to coming too, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. “Gonna cum for us, sweet girl?” JJ whispered into your ear and you could only nod, unable to speak. “Gonna fill you up so fucking good, like the dirty whore you are.” Rafe groaned before his orgasm struck, filling you to the brim with his warmth. You came not long after that, walls fluttering around Rafe’s cock as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the grip on JJ’s arm tightening. “Just like that, princess. Good girl” JJ praised as you came down from your high, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath.

Rafe pulled out slowly and bent down to place soft kisses on your cunt before getting dressed immediately, causing you to look at him with a confused expression. “Be right back. J, take good care of our girl.” He instructed before exiting the room. “Yes, sir!” JJ replied jokingly before shifting his attention back to you. “W-where is he going?” you stuttered, still feeling disoriented due to your orgasm. “Probably killing Kelce and Topper for walking in and seeing you. You know how he gets.” JJ shrugged as he picked you up bridal style before you could say anything else, taking you to the bathroom, “Don’t worry about it. Come on, lemme take care of our pretty girl.”

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated !!

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[sebscore]

Forget the wags, could you write something about all the drivers having massive small crushes on reader and like there’s loads of edits on social media of them looking at her with heart eyes or just general ship edits or I mean ship fan fiction that they have to read in a team challenge or something..👀

LATE NIGHT TALKING

pairings: f1 drivers x driver!reader (indirectly)

warnings: swearing. drunk drivers. lando talking about a woman.

author’s note: I AM BACK FINALLY! also I wrote this in my notes app so pls be patient 😭😭 and this is probs the closest thing I’ll ever write to romance for this series lol

masterlist

“Out of all the drivers, who would you date?” Pierre drunkenly, almost-giggly, asked the question to his fellow colleagues.

Charles, George, Lando, Alex, Carlos and Yuki nervously laughed at the shit-faced Frenchman in front of them.

“Out of the entire grid?” Charles wanted clarification.

Pierre nodded. “Like hypothetical, if none of us had partners.” He quickly added.

A silence followed. The seven men thinking of all the possibilities.

“I mean…” Lando was the first one to speak up, every head in the hotel room shooting up at him,

“and this stays between us, right?” He followed up, needing reassurance from the others, who swiftly nodded their heads.

“If like, I was single, and I could only date one of the drivers… I would date Y/N.” He confessed.

His words were met with choruses of “same” and “me too”. A small, relieved sigh left Lando’s mouth at the others’ agreement.

“Yeah, you guys are cool and all, but Y/N’s the right answer.” George snickered, awkwardly avoiding eye-contact with the group.

Charles hummed. “I’m also choosing her, but you know, cause I’m not, uh…”

“For the other side of the street?” Alex laughed, taking a swig from his drink.

“Yeah.” The Monegasque’s dimples made an appearance, grinning towards the Williams driver.

“I think she would rather die than date one of you guys.” Carlos said, matter-of-fact.

Charles, George and Lando gave him an unimpressed look, despite knowing he was speaking nothing but the truth.

“She would date me!” The McLaren driver tried saving his own ego and pride.

“She would not.” The six others immediately shot him down.

Lando scoffed at that, sitting up more straight on the bed. “Why? It’s like textbook childhood friends to lovers, or whatever Lily said at that party once.”

“You kinda sound like you want to date her.” Pierre made eyes at him, causing the younger man to lightly push him away.

“I don’t! But I’m just a little offended that you guys don’t think I could, like, you know… bag her.”

“Bag her? She’s not a fucking product.” Alex judged his choice of words, a slight disgusted expression on his face.

“You know what I mean, Albon.” Lando brushed it off, not having bad intentions. “I just think she would be a nice girlfriend to have.”

“I think so too,” Charles agreed, “she’s a lot of fun.”

“I mean- you would never get bored with her.” George hesitantly added to the conversation, feeling a little uneasy about imaging himself with his colleague.

“True.” The seven of them chorused.

“Hey, maybe we should change the topic- it’s getting weird…” Carlos suggested. The atmosphere in Charles’ large hotel room having changed drastically ever since the question had been asked.

“Yeah, good idea.” Lando cleared his throat, uncomfortably shifting on the bed.

“I would choose Pierre to date.”

“Yeah, we know, Yuki.”

[sexbot300]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹  rival!gojo head-canons

contents: 18+, mdni. rivals to (maybe) lovers. slight fluff, suggestive, crack, slight angst if you squint, smut. gojo satoru x reader.

tw: mentions of sex. actual descriptions of it. suggestive talk. unprotected sex p in v. oral. pet names. degradation. humiliation. satoru being somewhat of an (loving) ass.

a/n: i literally forgot how much i love writing head-canons. i left this one on a cliffhanger on purpose teehee lolz. thank you so so so much for the followers and support i'm getting. luv to hear your feedback! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

rival!gojo who has his patience and ego tested the minute he found out who you were.

rival!gojo who finds it endearing that someone other than him is on par with being the strongest. if endearing meant slightly blood-boiling.

rival!gojo who only heard word that you can “maybe” beat him in a fight and he “maybe” holding that as a grudge.

rival!gojo who sees you for the first time and his brain does a hard-factory reset.

rival!gojo who only laughs to himself that the world is cruel for making his own “arch-enemy” the hottest thing he’s ever set his eyes on.

rival!gojo who was starstruck, he knew that he had to know everything about you, for “research reasons.”

rival!gojo whos first encounter with you went something along the lines of:

“heard you’re the strongest.” “funny, heard the same thing about you.” “try not to die.” “are you kidding? and hand you over the title like a fucking crown?”

rival!gojo who jokes with your own students about joining the winning side, leaving you to be taught by him.

rival!gojo who will never admit that he lovessssssssssss that someone is as strong as he is, contradicting any bit of “malice” he has towards you.

rival!gojo who won't hesitate to call you, “princess” to mock you. truthfully, he’s mocking himself knowing that deep down he wouldn’t mind calling you that in all seriousness.

rival!gojo who purposely sits across from you in important meetings, taking any and every opportunity to speak to you. arms crossed over his chest while smiling. “dont get why i'm here really. look at her, she’s a big girl. i probably can leave the jujutsu world and it’ll be just fineeeee.”

rival!gojo who knows that the world needs him, but wants to be showered in compliments that prove he’s better. he only glances your direction, “ah, but if i leave, who will keep you on your toes?”

rival!gojo who after many, many years has this “relationship” with you that consists of; sly comments, wandering eyes, and moments that leave you both questioning the other.

rival!gojo who knows your favorite color, season, show, drink, how you like your toast charred— what? he’s just getting to know his “enemy” a bit more, relax.

rival!gojo who knows that you’re both the strongest, so it’s a ticking time bomb of who caves in first.

rival!gojo who no one can ever tell if you guys fucking hated each other or were just straight up fucking.

rival!gojo who purposely turns off his limitless near you, making excuses that “you’re no threat” to him. he secretly wants you to touch him because it means he’ll get to touch you.

rival!gojo who will never miss the opportunity to pass snide comments:

“ms. superhero is here, everyone clear way.” “not enough room on this earth for your ego alone, gojo.” “please, call me satoru.” “hm? why is that?”  “just want you to memorize the name of the person who’ll beat you one day.”  “if you’re trying to be sly with your insults, doing a terrible job.”  “princess, it’s not classified as insults if it’s the truth.” “would it make you happy if i just infatuated your self-worth like everyone else?” “there’s a lot you can do that can make me happy actually. start off by shutting up, maybe?”

rival!gojo who is constantly told to stop provoking you as the higher-ups know if you both take it too far, an actual war will break out. “gojo, behave yourself.” he only pouts, arms crossed over his chest, “whattttt? I’m being as friendly as i can be!”

rival!gojo who overhears the higher-ups scold you for replying back to his comments that are on equivalent with his childish behavior. “don’t entertain that idiot.” you only blink dumbfounded, “he started it! i’m nothing but kind and he's just a dumbass with too much power.”

rival!gojo who actually knows every little detail he wanted to about you. If it was your technique, dirt on you, your weaknesses, believe he’ll already know. “still keeping tabs on me?” “i don't understand, even if i was, we’re supposed to be working together sweetheart.” he only snickers, “although, you wish you mattered that much.” eliciting an eye-roll from you.

rival!gojo who actually finds you funny. someone who can keep up with him in all categories? yup, he’s making you his one way or another. you’re either the greatest blessing to occur to him or the reason he believes love truly is a curse.

rival!gojo who does find out if you’re attracted to someone or not and keeps a bit of an eye on who you’re interested in. by no means will he stop you from pursuing who you want, you deserve to feel happiness even if it isn’t with him. even if it means if it’s short-lived happiness, it was enough for a sorcerer who’s life-span is a guessing game. but he’s greedy. he’s selfish. he doesn’t want anyone else to take you, and he won’t directly interfere, but don’t think he isn’t pulling ropes in the back. 

rival!gojo who’s been your secret admirer for a while now, making sure to purposely get you gifts no man outside of his own status can ever top off. even if they were in his own status, he’ll quickly prove that he IS the Gojo Satoru and no one can top that off. if he can't outright admit he wants you, his pseudo-identity will. who do you think bought you those bouquets that swarmed your house that one valentine?

rival!gojo who notices that you’re wearing the pricey bracelet he bought you, snickering softly, “wow? the evil witch managed to successfully cast her spell in making someone like her?” glancing his direction, noticing a smug look on his face as his chin rests on his palm. “dunnooo gojo, maybe you’re not the only one here people find attractive.” you state, eyeing the handsome face of a man who would eat that shit up if you admitted it out loud. with a shit-eating grin, he spoke, “oh so you find me attractive?” unamused in a softer tone, “never said that, never will.” clicking his tongue, a deeper grin stretched out his pink lips. “you’ll come around eventually.”

rival!gojo who noticed that the bracelet didn’t have a cute necklace to accompany it, making a mental notice.

rival!gojo who isn’t actually your rival, he knows that you know he doesn’t have a big ego that you use as a cheap jab. there’s an unspoken mutual solidarity between you two, maybe the faux rivalry and self-worth being tested was a result of a fake relief you both fell in. maybe you can both pretend that all is well in this world. labeled the title of the strongest places all the responsibilities on both of your shoulders. he feels for you that this life isn’t kind to you or him and he feels a pang of guilt knowing that what’s expected of him, is expected of you too. does he hate you at all? never. does he hate knowing that someone else is burdened with the same path as him? more than anything.

rival!gojo who doesn’t understand why you’re still fighting. he has wealth, good looks, a huge dick, a sense of humor and is the not only the strongest but is a clan head. why don’t you just let him take care of you instead? why don't you end up in his arms at the end of the day? why don’t you let him massage the knots in your back and clean up dried-up wounds? why don't you unravel in a bath with him as you lay on his chest, playing with his fingers? why don’t you let him try the same sweets he really likes? why don’t you just let him occupy your world like you have with his?

rival!gojo who won't simply go at it with you like teenagers, he wants to see who will fall into the trap of falling for their rival first. he notices the way your eye lingers on his lips for a split second, or your face that paints that you feel tempted to bite the apple that god forbade you to. he wasn’t an idiot, and neither were you. he wasn’t physically keeping a distance from you more often because he was repulsed from you, no, it was quite the opposite. he knew that if given certain stances, he’d lose all control. but gojo didn’t want that, this was a game. he had to win. It wasn’t about a title anymore, it was about you. he had to win you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ 

rival!gojo who has sexual tension with you that can be cut with a knife, making everyone in the room shift in their seats.

rival!gojo who just eyes you up and comments under his breath that you’re probably so tense from the lack of dick you’re getting. “what was that satoru?” “nothing at all princess, you’re hearing things. get your ears checked out maybe.”

rival!gojo who doesn’t want to get under just your skin but under your sheets too. 

rival!gojo who wants to dominate you in every aspect, especially in bed.

rival!gojo who wants to pummel your pussy into the ground whenever you catch an attitude with him, which is mainly all the time. this one particular time when taking down a curse led you both on thin ice. “satoru, you’re supposed to guard me. the curse could’ve easily escaped. what the fuck were you doing?” you state walking close to him, arms out in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows. “huh, well maybe if you knew what you were doing you wouldn’t be relying on me.” he looked down at you, voice brattier than usual. “rely on you? i’d rather be thrown on the ground right now and have a special grade eat me whole.” faces only inches apart, he tugged his blindfold above one eyes, face growing cold. “I doubt it would remotely even want to eat something as vile as you.” your eyes only glued to his somber face, looking beautiful when disparaging as if it was double the taunting. clearing your throat, “as if it would want to taste you.” a gust of wind escaped his nose in disbelief, “please, it wouldn’t be the only thing here that would want to taste me.” pupils dilated, eyes directing staring in each others souls, you only scoff. “and who’s to say that you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw me on the ground?” his once stern face, had a hint of lust wash over in the form of a slight smirk, “not really a fan of wrestling someone so weak, i’ll just feel bad for you. really.” given the circumstances and the hoards of curses making way, he actually regretted not taking you right then and there. his idea of wrestling equating to absolutely demolishing your guts.

rival!gojo who wonders what it would be like to shut your soft, plush mouth up with his own.

rival!gojo who wonders if the bitter insults that roll off your tongue taste sweeter in his mouth.

rival!gojo who is more than giddy to hear that you’re assigned together to train, because he’s not just thinking of physically fighting you. his mind trails off to training you to take his cock instead.

rival!gojo who wants to test your strength in seeing how many rounds you can go with him. this isn’t about training.

rival!gojo who imagines taking you in for the first time; raw, ass up in the air, back arched inhumanely possible, large hand gripping at your hair follicles, and the harsh slapping of skin filling the room. he needs to take you in the most humiliating way, he wants to make you feel all sorts of ways while all he does is snicker about how good you clench on to him in a lewd position.

rival!gojo who often thought about calling you his cum-slut, while he’d make your pretty tongue lap up and down his thick dick groaning about making sure not to be an ungrateful whore and to swallow every last bit of him.

rival!gojo who can’t tell if he wants to fuck the shit out of you or if he wants you to fuck the shit out of him.

rival!gojo who encourages you to wear shorts and tight clothing while sparring. he literally just wants to make you comfortable, nothing at all hidden underneath.

rival!gojo who just takes his sweet time trailing his eyes all around the curves of your body before smiling softly.

“something caught your eye satoru?”  “ohhhhhhh, nothing. just studying your technique.” “is my technique my ass?” “what? a man can’t make sure you have good form?”

rival!gojo who can sense with his six eyes that he gets you wet, he knows that you know which makes it all the better. 

rival!gojo who laughs at you making comments about him probably acting all high and mighty due to a lack of “something.” was it sex? was it his dick? “wouldn’t you like to know pervert?" oh how he wish he can just make you feel the depth of his dick by making you look at the bulge he'd make in your tummy.

rival!gojo who actually does get in a heated making out session with you; hair gripping, tongues slick against each other, moans trapped in each others mouths, dry humping like a bitch in heat, lips engulfing one another. “who the fuck knew that gojo satoru was a needy bitch?” you say breathless, a string of saliva connecting your shameful lips together. “oh please, i was doing the world a favor by shutting you up.”

rival!gojo who finds himself panting as well, dazed out expression, foreheads still touching one another as noses nudge. he huffs slightly, rosy hue scattered across his face. “one more time.” he states breathless, eyes half-lidded. “kiss me one more time,” his voice continues off while you snake an arm around his neck drawing fingertips up and down his undercut. with his eyes shutting softly a sudden gulp, “need to make sure i hated it as much as you did. yeah, yeah, something like that.” he murmurs off before your heads are titling slightly, eyes both shut tight as lips press together on a soft impact. juxtaposing the messy, down-right nasty, desperate exchange of saliva masked as a “kiss.”

rival!gojo who finds out himself that your lips were indeed, soft and he liked the feeling of them pressed against his more than off.

rival!gojo who has to hold himself back from absolutely demolishing your pussy in the middle of combat. through growing pants, you squint your eyes at him from a distance. “g-growing weak satoru.” he’d only blink slightly, shaking his head mentally, the thought of having you pant for other reasons goes on in his head. while staring at your face, “huh, guess i am.”

rival!gojo who jokes that one day he’ll make you cry. unaware of what he meant by that, you only roll your eyes at his statement. although he would kill to hurt you, he wasn’t lying, he would kill even more to see your precious eyes drown in tears of pleasure when taking his fat cock in inch by inch. 

rival!gojo who has you pinned with your hands above your head as he pushes his muscular upper body into yours, feeling every rigid of muscle on your own. “are you purposely trying to be weak or do you just want an excuse to be used as a rag-doll?” pressing more of his body weight on yours, the clothing unable to hold a barrier of the heat and desire emitted off you two. He grinned, voice dropping an octave, his breath hitting your nose, “you disgust me.” quickly flipped the narrative so he was underneath, arms pinned up above his head while your bottom half straddles his groin. a thick, rock-hard sensation felt underneath you, clothing still having a hard time masking your pulsating clit and his dick that’s twitching. staring directly into his cerulean eyes, “clearly, not enough.”

rival!gojo who just knows your pussy is tight and lethal. he knows you’re practically walking around with a pool drenched between your legs waiting to be spread out by him. it’s even worse knowing that he is right. he thinks he can fix that nasty behavior right out of you with a good ol’ lesson on his cock.

rival!gojo who wants nothing more to completely get lost in your pussy, spending hours either making you cry from his dick or convulsing on his tongue.

rival!gojo who is still patient. patiently waiting for the day you slip up before he thinks of casually slipping his 8 inches in your silky folds. little does gojo know that day will be approaching sooner than later.

[emphistic]

Can I request reader being really sick and baby Yuji being really worried about her while Sukuna is trying to take care of her?

A/N: hope the ppl who voted for this in the poll are happy 😡😡 — i feel betrayed because yall didnt choose the other one

If someone who personally knew the three of you walked in right now, they would probably laugh at the current sight. Others would be surprised or confused. But little Yuuji was neither of those things. He was utterly adorably worried and concerned — for you. His little heart couldn't comprehend that you were only sick and would eventually recover. In other words, Yuuji is scared you'll die and never come back.

Then, who will tell him bedtime stories?

Then, who will kiss him goodnight and good morning?

Then, who will hold his hand while walking?

Then, who will coddle and pamper him?

Then, who will?

These were all questions Yuuji could not and would not like to answer.

But Sukuna — being way older than his brother — knew better, and he knew this was nothing too serious. But again, Yuuji couldn't comprehend that.

“Don't make me say it again, sweetheart. Now, open,” Sukuna held out the medicine for you to drink.

“Nuh uh,” you crossed your arms over your chest, backing up into the pillows behind you on the bed. You tried to stifle a cough, but you failed.

“I will pry open your mouth and shove this down your throat. Now, drink.”

You groaned, yet still obeyed. The fluid felt hot and cold simultaneously as you swallowed it.

Sukuna ruffled your hair, “See? Wasn't so bad, was it?” He retrieved the now empty cup from your hands and left the bedroom, probably walking to the kitchen to wash it, you assumed.

Yuuji turned to look at you with big glittery eyes. “I—I don't wan’ you to die. I don't wan’ you to go . . . like Grandpa.” Yuuji’s bottom lip trembled, he didn't want to cry — not in front of you, at least. He wanted to appear manly, brave, just like his brother.

You were quite taken aback at this, did he seriously think a cold could kill you? “Yuuji, come here,” you said, your tone soft.

Yuuji instantly crawled into bed — not without struggling a bit at first — and snuggled into your side, holding onto your hoodie with a white-knuckled grip.

“I will never ever leave you, Yuuji. So don't you worry your cute little head off about it, okay?” You booped him on the nose, emitting a squeal from the boy before he curled up impossibly closer to your body. You wiped away his tears.

“Y’know, I'm not going to die anytime soon. You can't get rid of me that easily.”

Yuuji fervently nodded, not fully believing you but still hopeful, nevertheless. “Yay!”

Yuuji was sad that you wouldn't be able to drive him to school that morning, but he knew you were tired. Plus, he overheard his older brother telling you that sleeping would be good for you, and the boy only wanted the best for you. So Yuuji accepted the fact, though still a little upset about it.

But when he came home from school, Yuuji ran straight to your side, where you were sitting on the couch.

“Y/N!” Yuuji jumped into your lap and gave you the biggest big bear hug a toddler could possibly give.

“Hi there, Yuuji,” you replied, before coughing. “Did you have fun at school?”

“Yeah! It was so fun.” You let him ramble and babble to you about his day, while running your fingers through his pink locks.

“That sounds like you had a really good day, Yuuji.”

“It would have been better if you were there with me, though,” Yuuji mumbled into your shirt.

You giggled at the boy, “Sorry about that, Yuuji.”

“‘tis okay!”

Yuuji snuggled into your sweater, enjoying the warmth from your body. He almost fell asleep from your massaging his scalp, but then he remembered something and gasped, jumping off of your lap.

You raised a brow, albeit not bothering to ask — your throat felt itchy. You unpaused the TV and continued watching your show. Halfway through, Sukuna decided to join you on the couch, pulling you into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Feeling any better?”

“Sorta.” You coughed. “My throat kinda hurts, though.”

You rested your head on Sukuna's shoulder as the both of you watched the actors on the screen, occasionally making small talk here and there.

Minutes later, a screaming, hollering, laughing little Yuuji ran into the living room, making both your heads whip towards him.

“It is I! Dr. Yuuji Itadori! Don't worry, Y/N. I am here to help you not be . . . um, sick — anymore!” Yuuji climbed onto the couch and inserted himself in between you and Sukuna.

Yuuji was dressed in a white doctor’s coat, and had a stethoscope hanging around his neck. A toy thermometer was also in his hand.

Quickly discarding the thermometer, throwing it aside — onto a protesting Sukuna’s lap — Yuuji put the back of his palm against your forehead. And though he didn't understand what he was doing, he attempted to copy his brother, who he had seen frequently do that in order to check you for a fever.

Speaking of said brother, Sukuna got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

“Hmmmm!” Yuuji pulled a clipboard out of his pocket and messily scribbled down illegible words onto the sheet of paper. Then, he placed his clipboard down and grabbed ahold of his stethoscope, pressing it onto your heart and listening to it beat.

Out of the blue, a hand roughly pushed the doctor aside, and Yuuji fell off of the couch and onto the carpet. “Out of my way, pipsqueak. Y/N needs her medicine.”

“‘Kunaaaa,” Yuuji whined from the floor. “She was getting her check-up.”

You covered your mouth, muffling your giggles. “Yeah, babe. You interrupted Dr. Yuuji.”

Sukuna grimaced, scrunching up his face. “Doctor? Since when?”

“Since he was born, silly! Yuuji is a prodigy, isn't that right, sweetie?” You picked up the toddler and set him onto his lap, he immediately went to rub his face in your chest.

A muffled ‘yes’ came out from him, though he didn't even know what he was agreeing to.

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside

[vivwritesfics]

u should do like a foursome. where the winners on the podium get to fuck y/n. Like Lando Charles and max. Weird idea oop

18+ ONLY

Warnings: Smut, foursome, eating out, blow jobs, hand jobs, face fucking, spit, swallowing, soft dom!max, hard dom!lando, switch!charles, face riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (don't have sex, because you will get pregnant and die), riding, denial, doggy, praise, anal (fucking and fingering), overstimulation, sub space (i suppose)

I tried to include recovery time but i forgot ill be honest

3.4K

Celebrating for Max, Lando and Charles meant one thing: getting drunk in the club.

They'd all spotted her across the dance floor at the same time, swaying her hips with the music, drink in her hands. All three of them wanted her. It should have caused an all out war.

But she noticed them, noticed as the three of them stared. Moving her hips from side to side, she walked over to them, walking over to Lando (as he was standing in the middle).

Her fingers played with the chain around his neck as she looked at the other two boys. She said something, something none of them could hear, and went up onto her tip toes to whisper in each of their ears.

It must have been the alcohol, because they never would have done it sober. Never would have followed her back to her apartment with other drivers beside him.

Max stumbled into her apartment first, hands around her hips as Lando and Charles followed.

His lips were on hers as she kicked off her shoes and reached back to unzip her dress. Once he saw her struggling, Charles walked over to pull the zip down, kissing her neck as he did.

Just lando was left standing there, feeling a little left out. So, she reached out her hand, reaching past max, reaching for the chain around his neck.

When she pulled lando closer, Max began kissing down her neck as she began kissing Lando. She stepped out of her dress without breaking away from anybody, leaving her in her underwear.

Charles couldn't stop himself from cupping her ass. Her eyes shut as he did, letting out a quiet whine.

But still, her underwear was blocking too much of their view. It was gorgeous, sure, but the boys couldn't wait to see it on the floor.

Charles slipped his hands beneath her underwear, still cupping her ass. Lando pushed the straps of her bra down her arms as Max undid the clasp.

As her bra fell away from her body, Max looked away. Not out of politeness, not because he felt like he shouldn't be looking at her in such a state, but to look around her apartment. He looked towards the kitchen, at the counter top.

Suddenly, she was in his arms. Charles and Lando followed as Max placed her on the counter top. She sat there, leaning back on her hands as Max got to his knees.

Immediately Charles and Lando attached themselves to her breasts, each of them taking a nipple between their lips. She threw her head back as they worked, this enough to get her wt. Soaked even.

On his knees Max pulled her underwear away from her body. He discarded it on the kitchen floor and dove right in, kissing her thigh before moving her legs over his shoulders.

He licked and sucked as her folds, tongue swirling around her clit. She let out moans and whines, gripping Charles and Lando's hair as Max's tongue prodded at her hole.

"Holy shit," she gasped, legs shaking around Max's head as he brought her to her first orgasm of the night.

The boys pulled away from her as they stripped down to nothing. Still on the counter, she watched as Lando reached back to unclasp the chain from around his neck. "Leave it," she said and he halted his movements, leaving the chain dangling around his neck.

Curling her finger in a beckoning motion, she led them through the apartment and towards her bedroom. At first the couch was temping, fucking each of them on the cushions, but there wouldn't be space to take all of them.

Grabbing a hold of Lando, Charles and Max, she sat them on her bed and got down onto her knees in front of them. She wrapped her hands around both Max and Lando and held her mouth open for Charles.

It was hard work, moving her hands up and down Max and Lando while working Charles in her mouth in the same rhythm.

But the boys were all moaning as she either sucked or tugged. Out of the three of them, Charles was enjoying it the most, but that was because it was easier for her to concentrate on him.

When it got to be too much, she released her hold on Max and Lando, concentrating all of her efforts on Charles. He gripped her hair as he let out breathy moans, letting his hips stutter as he came in her mouth.

Releasing her hair, Charles laid back, breathless as Y/N swallowed, wiping any excess away from her mouth.

She took time to recover as she moved onto Lando. He was rock hard, vein prominent as it climbed up the side of him.

After a good minute of recovering, she placed her hands on her knees, signalling to him that she was ready.

But Lando had other ideas. He caressed her cheek before placing his hand beneath her chin. "Open wide," he said and she opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out and shutting her eyes.

Something warm and let hit her tongue. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, at the grin he wore as he looked down at her. That was when she realised what he had just done, that she had just swallowed his spit.

And she loved it.

Her jaw ached as she sucked him, moving her mouth up and down his shaft. Her tongue swirled around the tip and ran along the vein. Just like Charles, Lando held her hair. But he didn't just grip onto her, he held her hair as he thrusted his hips forward, effectively fucking her face.

It was aggressive, but she was grateful. She wasn't having to do any of the work with how her jaw was aching, Lando taking complete control.

Tears sprung to her eyes as spit ran down her chin. The noises she was making had the other two looking over, eyes blown wide. They'd never seen Lando, the youngest of them all, so dominating and aggressive. It had Max's arousal getting to painful levels and Charles ready to go again.

Just before Lando came, he pulled her off of his cock, moving his hand up and down his shaft as he pointed towards her chest. She wiped away her tears as he came on her breasts.

Using a finger, she gathered a little bit of cum and put her finger in her mouth as she stared into his eyes, "Holy fuck," Lando hissed as she licked his cum off.

With an aching jaw and painful knees, she shuffled over to Max. "Best saved for last, huh?" He joked.

She swallowed thickly as she put her mouth around him and hollowed her cheeks. Just like the other two, Max gripped her hair, but he pulled her off of him. "Gorgeous," he muttered as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

"Charlie," said Max.

As if he already knew what to do, laid down on the floor behind her. He grabbed a hold of her hips and pulled her on top of him, sucking and licking at her folds.

She was hesitant at first, but, after some gentle coaxing from Max, she settled down on his face.

Her eyes closed as Charles worked her like an expert, his tongue flat and broad as he licked her in a long stripe. His tongue played with her clit before he sucked on it.

"That's it," whispered Max as he petted her hair.

As if rejuvenated, she moved her mouth back to Max's cock, sucking in time with Charles's licks. Ignoring the ache in her jaw, she worked back with ferocity, taking him all the way, until her nose was pressed against his pelvic, before pulling back.

Max moaned. He kept a hold of her hair, kept his hips still as his moans filled the apartment. "That's it," he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly she stopped as she let out a cry, pulling away from Charles. Her legs were shaking as she went up onto her tired knees, and Charles kissed the inside of her thigh one more time before he pulled away from her, leaving her to bring Max to completion.

He wasn't far off, hips stuttering as he held himself at the back of her throat. He spilled inside of her mouth and she eagerly swallowed before lifting off.

Suddenly they pulled her up, dragged her to her feet. "Who do you want first?" Charles asked with a glint in his eye, and Y/N reached for Lando.

The brit was happy to oblige. Max and Charles cleared off the bed as she laid back and Lando climbed on top of her. His necklace hung over her as he grinned, tongue between her teeth.

He leaned down to kiss her, his lips bruising against hers. As he kissed her, he pushed her legs apart, using one hand to hold himself up and the other to part her folds. He held himself as he pushed forward.

She let out a cry as Lando thrust forward. He kept his eyes locked onto her face as he set a pace, slow at first, but his thrusts were still hard. When her only reply were moans, whines, face scrunched up as her eyes shut, Lando sped up his pace. He gripped, his head against her shoulders as his hips snapped against hers.

The sounds of skin against him filled the apartment. Lando moved away from her shoulder, his necklace swaying above her as he fucked her.

Her moans came out hot and heavy as Lando's thrusts sped up, his pace seemingly impossible. She clenched around him as she face scrunched up, bringing her to her third orgasm of the night.

Lando have one last particularly bruising thrust, cumming inside of her. Breathlessly, he pulled away from her, laying on the bed beside her quivering, sweat covered body.

Max was next, but he gave her a moment to recuperate, considering how clearly exhausted she was. She looked at him with half closed eyes, hands resting on her stomach.

After what felt like no time at all, she beckoned Max closer. She stood on her own shaking legs and gestured for him to lay down on the bed before her. He did so, placing his hands behind his head as he grinned up at her.

She sat herself on his midsection, legs on either side of him. She leaned down, kissing him softly. But Max pushed it further, his tongue invading her mouth. She squeaked in surprise, but didn't pull away.

His hands moved from behind his head to hold her ass, his grip so firm it definitely left bruises. She didn't mind though, a reminder of this night was exactly what she needed. No, the memories of this night were never leaving her mind.

She held his cock as Max used his grip on her ass to raise her up.

She lowed down onto him, eyes fluttering shut as her hands rested on his chest. Max was thick within her, her walls clenching around him.

Max grunted as he moved his hips, bouncing her on top of him. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her as her body bounced.

"Come on, pretty girl," he said as he moved. "I want to hear you."

She moved as Max moved her, manhandling her like she was a ragdoll.

Still thrusting up into her, Max moved his hands up to her back, pulling her body down on top of him. He shut his eyes as he sucked her nipple into her mouth.

"Oh my god," she cried, holding herself up high enough for Max to give her tits attention. Max was hyper aware of everything, of the way she clenched around him. "I... I'm-"

But with the way he was fucking her, she couldn't get the words out. To Max, that was reason enough to pull her off of him, leave her dangling on the edge without pushing her over. She cried out as she fell onto the bed beside him, clenching her legs together. "Please," she cried as she reached down, but Max grabbed a hold of her hands, preventing her from sorting herself out.

"No way," he said and brought her hands to his cock. She moved her hands up and down his shaft until he came in her hands. She looked at him with a glare as she licked the cum from her skin.

"Charles," said Max and the Monégasque took his place on the bed. "Don't let her cum," Max said to him as he placed her so that she was sitting on Charles just as she was Max.

As she sank down onto him, tears sprung to her eyes. "Ride him," she heard Lando say as he rested against the wall.

She tried her best, but she was already exhausted. After watching her struggle to bounce, Lando walked over and took charge, bouncing her on top of Charles.

But he quickly got bored and went back to slowly tugging himself as he rested against the wall. Charles looked up at her as she continued to bounce, but he quickly lifted her off of him. He flipped them over, propping her up on her hands and knees as he got behind her.

From that angle, all of them could see just how wet she was. Drenched, with a mess already on the bed beneath her. And they weren't done with her yet.

Charles watched as she shivered when he pushed his finger between her folds. It was a mix of her and everything of Lando's that Max hadn't fucked out of her. He lifted his finger to his lips, tasting it, tasting them. "My turn," he said and pushed into her.

With her hair knotted around his hands, Charles wildly snapped his hips against hers. He held her hip with the other hand, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Cries and whines and moans left her lips as he fucked her into the mattress.

But then Charles let go of her hair. His pace slowed as he squeezed her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. His thumb ran over her hole, not quite pushing in. That's where he'd be in a matter of moments. "There's lube in the drawer," she said through her gasps of ecstasy.

Max reached into the drawer and pulled out the bottle of lube. He coated his fingers and reached between the bodies of her and Charles. "That's it," he said as he gently pushed his index finger inside of her hole, going up to his knuckle. "Good girl."

Her eyes were squeezed shut as Max pushed his finger in and out of her hole. "You're doing so good for us," said Charles, his thrusts matching the slow pace of Max's fingers.

Her moans turns into incoherent babbling and Max pushed Charles away before she could cum. He worked in another finger, his free hand on her as as he stroked her soft skin. "Good girl," he whispered again, speeding up his thrusts. "I'll need to get one more in, okay?"

He kept trusting, but he kept to two fingers as he waited for her to nod into her pillow. "Use words, gorgeous," he said.

It was a struggle, but she managed to get the words out, to tell him how much she wanted it.

She cried out at the stretch as Max words one last finger in. "Good girl," he said once again as he thrust in and out, opening her up. "Think you're ready for us?"

Again, she nodded and Max realised words were going to be too much for her. He pulled his fingers out and laid himself down on the bed, manhandling her back on top of him, just as she was before. With a hiss she sank back down onto his cock, feeling familiar inside of her.

"Hold onto me," said Max as Charles climbed into the bed behind her.

She placed her forehead on Max's shoulder, squeezing him tight as Charles pulled her cheeks apart again. He held himself as he pushed towards her tight hole, slowly pushing in.

The feeling was indescribable as Charles pushed all the way in. She cried out, biting down onto Max's folder at the burn. "Fuck," Charles hissed, his forehead thrown back as his eyes shut.

Only Lando was left. He stood just to the left of them, in the perfect place for her to reach over and suck him off. He stood ready, but she wasn't, not yet.

Charles had to set the pace, his thrusts being the thing to move her on top of Max. It took a while to get used to, before she could turn her attention to Lando. But he understood, that was clear by the way he stroked her hair.

Charles picked up the pace and she moved away from Max's shoulder, taking Lando into her mouth.

Sucking him off was a real challenge as she was rocked between Max and Charles. Her eyes were squeezed shut as Lando held her head, fucking her face once again.

It was all too much and she came for the fourth time. The three men held her up as they fucked into all three of her holes, using her until they came.

Lando came first, pulling out of her mouth as she swallowed. She looked up at him, still rocking between Max and Charles, her expression completely fucked out. Max was next, cumming inside of her. He didn't pull out though, staying inside of her while Charles continued to snap his hips against hers.

Charles's jaw was clenched as he gave a few last thrusts, cumming inside of her ass. He pulled away, watching as he leaked out of her. She fell onto the bed, out of breath as she looked up at the three men.

As Charles put a blanket over her, Max and Lando walked through her apartment, searching for her bathroom. When they found it they ran the bath for her, getting it to a suitable temperature before they went back into the bedroom.

"Think you can walk?" Charles asked her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

She shook her head and Charles nodded, easily picking her up and following Max and Lando into the bathroom.

[bloompompom]

˗ˏˋ guilty pleasures ˎˊ˗

☆ content: eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, reader cheats on her loser boyfriend, dirty talk, praise, pet names, masturbation, pussy job, just filth, written very fast my apologies, mentions of alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised 18+ ☆ word count: ~4.2k ☆ a/n: just a warm-up that got out of hand

Your boyfriend sucks. That isn’t an opinion, either. It’s a fact. The sky is blue; what goes up will always come back down; your boyfriend is and will forever be a jackass. 

At least, according to your friends, Eren in particular. Sometimes according to you, too—let’s not leave that part out, it’s important.

Countless times, your boyfriend had driven you to wit’s end and back because yes, you always took him back. You aren’t the type to leave a kicked puppy out in the rain or a groveling man lying on your doorstep. He’d come crawling back, looking all lovesick and apologetic, and you’re ashamed to admit it hasn’t failed him yet. 

Listen, Eren is just your friend. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of your relationship any more than the next guy. What he knows for sure is that your boyfriend generally sucks as a human being, and he knows you know it, too. 

And it’s about time he does something about it. 

Tonight’s as good a night as ever to make a move. Eren’s roommate, Armin, insists on hosting a game night every other week-ish to ‘get the gang together,’ as he likes to say. But game nights are hard. No one likes to learn rules. So game nights soon devolved into movie nights, which turned into drinking nights after no one could agree on a movie.

That’s the plan for this evening: drinking the beer Jean brought along with a few leftover seltzers from the last time they got together, and spending some time with you. Alone.

You walked into the apartment huffing and puffing, pissed over whatever your boyfriend did or didn’t do. You’ve spent most of the night wallowing in the displeasure, trying to hide it, but it’s not working; Eren can tell you’re furiously texting Sasha every little detail despite sitting across from one another.

If you were to ask any of your friends, they’d say they previously believed you and Eren would date. You had that energy about you—still do, frankly. But then you met your boyfriend and you’ve been seeing each other ever since. On and off, of course.

Eren dated other people, too. And sure, he liked them, but that’s all. Finding happiness with something (or someone) is difficult when he constantly sees the greener grass on the other side.

He used to believe it was a timing thing, the reason you never hooked up. It made sense back then. But now, Eren knows it’s not a timing thing because he’s single and you can dump your boyfriend any time you want—if that’s what you want. 

Eren can pry. He can be forthright and ask what you’re texting Sasha about. But that’d get him nowhere; you’d undoubtedly reply, ‘Girl stuff,’ and let the subject die there. 

He noticed you don’t talk about your boyfriend problems when he’s around. Not that he expects you to. He would have written it off by now if he hadn’t heard you confiding in Armin about it. Jean and Connie, too. How frustrating it is that you never tell the one genuinely curious person. The one who wants to know and wants to show you how much better things could be, with him. 

So Eren does just that. He catches you at the right moment, once it’s just the two of you. Armin was in bed and Sasha already left, taking Jean and Connie with her. The only guests remaining are you and Mikasa—she’s been sitting heavy-eyed on the couch for the last twenty minutes and would probably be out cold in the next ten. 

Then there’s you, all squirmy beside him. 

“Are you cold?” Eren asks. He knows you’re not, but he also knows you’d never answer the more direct ‘Are you okay?’

“I’m fine,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I’m just—”

“Having a long night?” Eren guesses.

You merely sigh, but it’s weighty enough that it sounds like you’ve been holding it in for a while, like you must’ve needed it. 

“That’s one way of putting it.”

It’s vague, but you still feel you said too much.

You fiddle with your fingers, hands resting in your lap. You focus on that rather than the fact that you can no longer bring yourself to meet Eren’s eyes; it’s too much, it makes your insides burn uncomfortably hot.

You can’t deny how Eren makes you feel. Even more, you can’t deny that you came over tonight with him on your mind—the sort of thoughts you shouldn’t have while tangled up with another guy. 

“Is there anything I can do,” Eren slides closer to you, “to make your night better?”

Yes, you think. Yes, yes, yes.

You shake your head, gaze fixed on his leg pressing against yours. 

“It’s not your problem to fix,” you try to assure, but it lacks any sureness. Instead, it’s demure and… inviting? You almost made it sound like a dare. 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Eren says, always up for a challenge, especially if you’re the prize at the end. 

You’re better than this, you tell yourself. You’re above this. 

At the same time, you can’t help but think: what would your boyfriend do if the roles were reversed? You’ve argued about his fidelity before—hell, you argued about it hours ago—and you have no more clarity than you did from the start. 

Maybe you haven’t been perfect, either. Maybe there were times you should’ve told Eren to cut out the flirting and even times you shouldn’t have reciprocated it. You thought it was harmless then, that you’d never end up exactly where you are now. You also never imagined how invigorating, how right, it would feel. 

Eren places his large hand on your thigh, tentatively at first, light despite the guilt weighing down on you. When you don’t stop him, he becomes confident. He slides his hand higher, squeezes you gently. It’s chaste, something that could still pass as friendly if not for the way it made you weak.

I am absolutely not above this.

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom. Eren whispered for Mikasa and when she didn’t respond, he took it as the all-clear—that no one would know if you decided to head somewhere more private. Eren snuck you down the hall, shut the door behind you, and had you to himself, for the first time. 

Your heart thrums in your ears. It’s adrenaline, anticipation, a rush you never want to end. You hardly hear him when he asks, “How can I make your night better?” He nears you in a step. “What would you like me to do?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you murmur. He wants to hear you say it: that you want him. You want his mouth on yours, maybe on your neck, his hands on your chest, smoothing down your hips and between your legs. You don’t give him the satisfaction of it. 

You lean into Eren without a word. He moves with you, meeting you halfway. You lead, he follows. You’re the one in the relationship, not him. 

You tilt your chin high to meet him. He catches it between his fingers, gently guiding you to him. Your noses brush; your lips don’t, but you’re so, so close. Close enough for your lashes to flutter softly against his cheek, for you to feel every one of his hot breaths as they break over your lips. It’s intoxicating. It’s not enough. But you can’t make yourself seal the fateful gap between you. 

“I can’t,” you regretfully stammer. It physically hurts to say the words. You wound the devil sitting atop your shoulder.

Eren doesn’t say anything, only pulls away from you. You don’t feel in control of your hand when it snatches a fistful of his shirt. You keep him there, still as close as before, eyes flitting between his pupils, big and blown, and his lips. He remains frozen, silent. He lets you decide where this would or wouldn’t go. 

“I don’t—fuck, I don’t know what do to,” you bemoan. Your head is a spinny, screwed-up mess. Screwed up from forbidden fantasies and raging hormones and the pool of warmth spreading in the depths of your stomach—all from him. 

“What do you want to do?” Eren asks in a low voice. 

It’s coaxing, cloying, but it’s needful at the same time. It’s a voice you’ve never heard from him, yet it’s familiar. It’s reminiscent of the same need burning inside you, so hot you think it might create a hole, one perhaps only he can fill.

You lick your bottom lip only to find your mouth has gone dry. 

Eren nudges the tip of his nose against yours. “I can tell you what I want to do, if that would help.”

He nuzzles lower, beneath your jawline. He doesn’t kiss you there—no, he wouldn’t do that. What he does is worse. It’s teasing. His breath fans over your ear and sends a shudder down your spine. He needs you not only to hear but to feel every word, every dirty thing he has imagined doing with you.

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he breathes against the side of your face, warming you from the inside out. He clasps his hand over yours, then slips it between your legs. “And I want to watch.”

Eren touches your hand, encouraging you to rub. You feel the heat of your cunt through your clothes, like there’s a fire in your belly. You finally let its flames engulf you and god, burning never felt so damn good. 

You’re dizzy, you’re flustered—how could he possibly say that with such calmness? More than anything, you’re dumb to everything except the boy in front of you. 

“Can you do that for me?” he asks, smooth and soothing. “I’ll only look. I won’t touch, I promise.”

It’s a lousy excuse for a loophole. Actually, it doesn’t even qualify as a loophole.

Eren leans back, holding your shoulders in his hands. He looks you in the eyes and again, he insists, “No touching.”

Loophole or not, you can’t find it within you to care. You trust him, you think. Either that or your brain short-circuits because you can only repeat back, “No touching,” as you bob your pretty little head. 

Eren smiles down at you, runs his knuckles down the side of your face. It’s gentle, it’s praising, it brings—no, it yanks you back to him. 

“Lay on the bed,” he says. 

You do as you’re told, laying back on your forearms. He tugs your bottoms off with ease and reveals a pair of pale blue panties—a telling color. When you spread your legs for him, he can see how you’ve stained them with your arousal, soaked and ruined after some innocent teasing. 

You touch yourself without him having to ask. You trace over the damp patch and play with your clit through the fabric. He sees how easily your panties slip between your folds, how fucking wet you are, and has to stifle a curse.

Eren drops to his knees, nestled between your legs at the foot of the bed. He has a hand on either of your thighs, almost white-knuckling the plush skin.

“Look at that.” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. “You like it when I talk to you, huh? When I tell you what to do?”

You whine at the words, rub your clit faster. You want to come. 

“So needy. What’s the rush?” Eren tuts. He climbs onto the bed, propping his back against the headboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

As he says it, his hand travels lower. Dangerously low. It draws your attention to how hard he is, his insistent cock tenting in his sweatpants. He palms over it once, then twice, then grips himself through the fabric. Fuck. 

You stare with too much interest. The corner of Eren’s lip curls into a smirk when you have to close your hungry mouth. He’s just as greedy, though, just as riled up as you. Even the touch of his own hand has his arm muscles tightening and twitching.

You crawl over to his side and try to relax into the pillows as best as you can. Your shoulders droop, your knees fall to either side, but there’s a tremble to your hand as it returns between your legs. Your touch remains feather-light, almost a tickle, as you dance a finger along the hem of your underwear. You watch lecherously, with your head lolled to one side as Eren mirrors you—you’re still leading. His thumb dips below his waistband.

This still counts as ‘no touching,’ right?

Eren shoves his hand down his sweatpants. You can’t see it when he takes his cock in his hand, only the outline of him slowly working over his length underneath the fabric. 

Your eyes ask the question your lips wouldn’t dare to ask. Eren responds, “You first.” His eyes flicker to your crotch—your panties, more specifically. 

Your fingers stutter and pause. You’ve already dipped your toes into the corrupt waters, so you might as well take the full plunge.  

You tuck your underwear to the side, pinching them in the crease of your thigh. Your fingers are almost cold against your wet, hot skin and you shiver in response, letting the feeling wreck down your spine. You clench around nothing, whimpering just as helplessly. 

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, an incidental hiss.  

He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, and his cock slaps his front. He aches for anything more than his hand, but it’s all he has right now. It’s agonizing how what he needs is so damn close, but out of reach. 

He pumps himself faster, tightening his grip around the sensitive tip to mimic your cunt.

He can only catch glimpses of it. Your panties persistently get in his way, and when they aren’t, you’re having to tug them back to the side. Your gasps and moans turn to little grunts, your frustration staving off your orgasm even further.

Eren goes to grab your underwear but stops himself short.

“Take them off,” he tells you, somewhere between a request and a demand. If this is his one chance to be with you, to see you, then he’s going to see all of you. 

You listen. Your hand slips from between your legs and a sticky string connecting your fingers to your cunt snaps. You hope Eren didn’t see it, but you’re sure he did based on the impatient sound that comes from the back of his throat. You lift your hips from the bed and shimmy your underwear down your legs. Then you kick them to the floor. 

You don’t settle back into the bed before Eren says, “I want to see more of you,” because this still isn’t enough. “C’mere.”

He adjusts you to his liking until you’re in front of him, lying back on your elbows, spread, with your feet caging his hips. It’s a vulnerable position, you admit. One where you’re completely bare and completely on display and there’s no shying away. You may have even found it embarrassing if not for how turned on you are. The urge to come is nagging, simmering for so long that you fear you may boil over and do something you’ll regret later. 

“Shit.” Eren’s in awe of the sight before him: your glistening cunt, swollen and practically begging to come, and the dreamy expression on your face. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever looked, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Your eyes are as alert as they are moony, as confident as they are flustered; a doe locked in his headlights, willing to eat out of his palm despite her better judgment. 

“Spread yourself for me,” he murmurs. You do it with two fingers. “God, look at you.”

So pretty. What a shame it was that such a pretty pussy would go unfucked tonight. 

Eren leans back again, this time with a complacent hand tucked behind his head. He spits into his other, then slathers it over his length, unblushing to how your eyes follow every fluid movement.

“Go ahead,” he says, still calmly fisting his cock. “For real this time. Make yourself come for me.”

The encouragement travels straight to your core. You sink your middle finger inside first, then you add another. Your walls pulse, sucking the digits in further. You curve them, drag them in and out, in and out, until you find a pace that has your thighs threatening to snap shut. You pull out of yourself one last time and, with properly wetted fingers, you return to your neglected clit. It only takes a few slick circles before your breath quickens. 

“Yeah, just like that—fuck.” Eren feels his cock throb against his palm. He slows, pulling and tightening his grip, still pretending his hand is anywhere near as soft as your pussy. “You’ve listened so well. You deserve to come, don’t you think?”

You moan something incoherent.

“Tell me,” he says, smug and urgent, somehow at once. “Tell me what a good girl you’ve been. That you deserve to come.”

Slippery, unforgiving sounds fill the room, from the both of you, but you’ve already shed any shred of decency you had left. You dipped your toes first, and then you took a fateful dive. But now, the current has stripped away any semblance of control you had—or thought you had.

You’ve become a passenger inside your own body. Every motion feels wild and unpredictable, yet intimately inevitable. It’s a kaleidoscope of feelings and sensations. It’s strange and exhilarating. It’s this raw and primal surrender to only what’s physical and nothing more. 

Flowery language aside, you know one thing for sure: as much as you enjoy hearing him talk filth to you; he enjoys hearing you just as much. 

“I’m a—ah, I’m your good girl,” you moan shakily. Your skin becomes unbelievably hot, your fingers stuttering, struggling to keep up with your neediness. “I d-deserve to come.”

His good girl.

Eren’s stomach lurches, abdominals tightening. He nearly comes.

What a fucking gift you are. How lucky Eren feels to witness how you get yourself off when no one’s around, how you like to tease yourself—maybe even pretend he’s the one teasing you.

You bring a hand to your chest, gingerly caressing the tips of your fingers along your nipple that pokes through your shirt. You slide the hand over your breast before groping it fully. 

“Can I see your tits?” Eren blurts. Once again, there’s no use for dancing around the truth of the matter anymore: you both wanted to get off. 

“You first.” You giggle a little, all breathy, then restate, “Take off your shirt.”

Eren smiles at you before stripping, revealing a cute flush creeping up his chest. You stick to your promise, peeling your shirt off and tossing it aside. You skipped putting on a bra this evening because it was supposed to be a quiet night-in with friends, but it worked out pretty well for this, too. 

You graze your fingers over the peaks of your breasts, bouncing just so with every rub, rub, rub of your opposite hand. You bite back a harsh gasp, but little hums escape past your teeth, anyway. 

Eren’s thighs twitch. He fights the urge to buck his hips, to fuck up into nothing. His pants turn strained, exasperated. He thinks he might be numb to his hand at this point. He could use his spit again, but why should he have to when you’re right there, as desperate as he is?

Your name’s a raspy plea on his tongue. His hands smooth up your legs as he coos, “I need to feel you, baby.” His thumbs stroke your inner thighs, growing extremely close to the apex between them. “Need you to help me come. You’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

Eren’s hands wrap around your ankles, pulling a yelp from you as he drags you toward him.

“I won’t put it in,” he promises. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your cunt against the underside of his cock. His hand somehow looks small in comparison as he holds himself at his base. He angles his cock until it’s about as close as it can be without touching you. “Please.”

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, but even more frantically, it pulses between your legs, loud and demanding. It’s as impossible to ignore as the man before you. Hot and horny, with messy hair and pretty pink cheeks and an even prettier cock that leaks at the mere thought of touching you, staring at you like he wishes to devour you whole.

You nod, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to push his cock between your slit. You watch him do it, sitting higher on your elbows. Even with the faintest amount of pressure, your jaw goes slack. 

He rocks his hips, gliding his cock through you, up and down, with the ridge of his head nudging your clit. Your skin prickles despite the thin layer of sweat you’ve accumulated.

You raise your hips, dragging your pussy over him, and bring yourself back down to the bed. His cock jolts. You feel it. You repeat the undulating motion again and again, effortlessly, because you can’t recall a time you’ve been wetter. So wet he slips out a time or two. He takes advantage of it once, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

Eren gives a low chuckle when your head falls back between your shoulder blades. “What a pretty little mess you are.”

You tilt your hips so he’s back in place, hitting your clit just right, over and over. It doesn’t take long for your legs to shake, swaying like they may give out. He steadies you, resting his hand on the divot of your hip. 

“Oh, god—Eren.” Your voice pitches on a broken moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”

His hand curves around your side, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass. He uses the grip to keep you moving, to guide you through it. He barrels you down the hill toward your release, and you can’t stifle a single cry as they spill from you.

“Yeah, that’s it. Let it all out, baby,” Eren encourages, saccharine as always but airless. Though his own release is imminent, he refuses to allow it to happen before yours. 

He flattens his fingers against his cock, pressing and adding delicious pressure. He proves how heavy, how hard, he is for you—how much better he’d feel inside you. The mere thought of it makes you groan. You push back on him instinctively, arching your back as you teeter on the edge of your undoing.

“So fucking hot,” Eren grunts, thrusting as if he were truly fucking you. He meets you each time you bear down on him, his pelvis slapping against you as his hips rise from the bed. “So fucking hot.”

That familiar feeling fizzes in your stomach, swarmy and radiating through you. It sparks in the tips of your fingers, even in your toes, and then your orgasm rips through you. Your entire being tenses, fists knotting themselves into the sheets and eyes screwing shut. The pleasure is white-hot and leaves you with stars behind your eyelids.

Eren urges you to open your eyes. “Keep ‘em on me while you come.” 

You try your best; you don’t let your eyes roll back. What’s hidden behind your fluttering lashes is pornographic. Your soaked thighs—his soaked thighs. You don’t even want to think about the blankets below you. 

You curse and cry his name. You look ruined, with eyebrows pinched and pulled together, your mouth hanging open like you want to scream out your orgasm. Eren crudely imagines how wrecked you’d look, how much better you’d feel, if you were coming with him inside you.

Your knees snap together, thighs sealing shut around his cock. He continues to fuck between them, against your pulsing, oversensitive pussy. Your body is spent and shaking, and he is right there with you. The sinewy muscles of his chest flex as he builds toward his climax.

“God, fuck,” Eren pants. “I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come all over this pussy.”

When he does, it’s with his head thrown back and a beautiful groan. His body is flush with yours, his cock spilling across your legs. Come drips down the creases of your thighs, smearing with the last few pumps as he draws out every drop. He can’t believe he could feel so good from something as pathetic as grinding.

Your body lies limp, sprawling across the bed with your legs still draped over him. You wait for some post-horny clarity to smack you across the face, but the only slap you feel is the truth: you deserve better. You aren’t going back.

You stay there, waiting for the rise and fall of your chest to settle. One moment, you’re staring at the ceiling, then blink, Eren’s above you, taking your cheek in his hand. His fingers curl around the side of your face before he places his mouth on yours. He’s soft, both how he feels and how he kisses you, with lips slotted perfectly against yours, coaxing them open with his tongue.

You finally let him touch you this way; you kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you wish for the moment to stay, just for a little longer.