#surprisingly the process was enjoyable

[majimasleftasscheek]

I'm gonna be gone for a few days but I managed to finish the mousepad and the tattoo came out so good 😩💦

[lovinggreeniehours]

my toxic trait is that when i building my characters' personalities, i imagine them as genshin impact characters first

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[moonstruckme]

i cannot stop thinking about oblivious reader and remus where she’s talking about how she’s never been with anyone before bc no one likes her so remus is like i like you!! but she’s like haha ok yeah bc we are friends!! and he has to be like no i like you but she just thinks he’s taking piss but he’s actually being real with her i’m so 🤧

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: mention of alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

“Ugh, they’re disgusting.” You take a sip of your drink, looking at James and Lily over the rim of your cup. Lily’s eating an ice cream sandwich she’d found in Sirius’ freezer, offering James bites while he traces lines between her freckles with his pinkie. “I want to be them so badly.” 

Remus hums. It’s the tail end of one of Sirius’ parties (or his soirees, as he insists upon calling them), and the atmosphere is heavy with a pleasant lethargy. The music is still playing from his record player, some slowish, bass-heavy rock, but most everyone has cleared out, and Sirius himself has fallen asleep on the opposite side of the couch from Lily and James, his mouth hanging open. 

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love,” you sigh. Remus turns to you, catching the longing in your look just before you hide it away. 

“You’ve never been in love?” he asks you. 

You give him a funny look. “No.” You shrug. “I’ve never dated anyone before.” 

Remus hadn’t known that. He has to remind himself, again, that he doesn’t know all that much about you. You’re new to their little group, a coworker of Lily’s that she’d started bringing around recently. Remus doesn’t know you very well, but he’s found the learning process surprisingly enjoyable. He likes being around you. 

“How’s that?” It slips out before he can think it through, brash and unlike him. He backpedals immediately. “Sorry, that was rude, I only meant that I’m a bit surprised. You don’t have to answer.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You give him a smile, infinite in your benevolence. “People just don’t seem to think of me that way. No one’s ever liked me.” 

You sound so casual about it, but Remus can’t help but think that must not be a nice way to think of yourself. He’s sure you’ve been considered romantically by plenty of people, even if they never had the guts to tell you about it. You’re lovely. You deserve to know it. 

He musters his courage. “I like you.” 

You laugh, and he thinks Sirius is going to have to mop his self-esteem up off the floor tomorrow morning as part of his party cleanup. 

“Thanks,” you say, “but you don’t count.” 

 Why the hell not?

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t mind me,” you go on, taking another sip of your drink, “but it’s different when you’re friends. I meant that nobody’s ever liked me, like, romantically.” 

You go a bit shy at the last word, self-consciousness pulling your shoulders almost imperceptibly upwards. Remus forgives your oversight instantly. 

“Do you really think it’s so unlikely that anyone could like you romantically?” he asks, refusing to lower his gaze even when you shrink a bit at the question. “You’re a catch, love, trust me.” 

You shake your head and smile, frustratingly good-natured. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to date me.”

“Have to?” Remus’ voice rises incredulously. He glances towards James and Lily on the couch, lowering it. “I would love to.” 

“Ha ha,” you monotone, rolling your eyes and raising your cup to your lips. 

He can’t believe you think he’d joke about this. He can’t figure out what’s more cruel, the way you keep inadvertently shooting him down or the fact that you seem so heart-wrenchingly prepared to be made fun of. “I mean it.” Remus lets his voice drop into a more genuine register, and something in your look softens. “I would date you. I want to, if you do. You’re far from impossible to like.” 

Your lips actually part in surprise. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I…” He looks over at the couch, but James and Lily are effectively as dead to the world as Sirius, and at the volume you’re both speaking he doubts they’d be able to hear you over the music anyway. “I think you’re really lovely. I’ve been meaning to do something about it, I just…I didn’t know how. But would you want to?”

“To go on a date?” you ask, looking a bit dazed. Remus smiles, but before he can confirm you laugh at yourself, the sound rich and sweet as dark chocolate. “Sorry, that might be a stupid question. I haven’t done this before.” 

“I can’t believe that.” He shakes his head, astounded. For a girl like you to never get asked out? Well, it makes things a bit easier for him, jealousy-wise, but objectively it’s criminal. Remus supposes he’ll have to make up for it himself. “But yeah, I’d like to go on a date.” 

You nod, smile sticking on your face. “Me too. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, finding that your smile seems to have stuck to him too. “Tomorrow, maybe? We could go for coffee.” He looks out the window behind you, where a faint line of gold on the horizon shows promise of sunrise. “I think we’ll both be needing it.” 

You laugh again. Remus decides that he likes it better than any song Sirius has played all night. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Remus.” 

He’s not sure what you’re thanking him for. He’s the one who gets to take you to coffee tomorrow. He ought to be thanking you.

[respectissexy]

As a therapist and an enjoyer of characters who should go to therapy, here’s what I think the Bad Kids would be like if they actually went to therapy.

Riz: Fidgeting SO HARD. Sometimes seems to love a fidget toy so much that you tell him he can keep it. You keep buying more fidget toys just for him. Every week his GAD-7 is a 19 and when you ask how he’s feeling he says, “Great!”

Fabian: Surprisingly easy. Instant rapport, responds to softballs like “do you think maybe you feel that way because your parents put a lot of pressure on you” as though they were profound revelations.

Gorgug: Does not take his headphones off, somehow completely present and engaged even though you can literally hear his music.

Adaine: Extremely impatient with the process. Wants to learn 5 cool tricks for not being anxious anymore and then bounce. Becomes accusatory when it isn’t “working” after a few sessions.

Fig: Spends the first 12 sessions alternately trying to shock you, asking increasingly specific questions about your reporting requirements (“would you have to report it if I murdered someone? what if a friend’s dad gave me drugs?”), and asking questions about the therapist to avoid talking about herself.

Kristen: Breathwork every single session. Major Crisis of the Week vibes. Reliably drops a huge bomb that changes everything in the last five minutes of session. (Fun fact: some therapists call this “door handling”.)

[idontcare4urmom]

wrong || matt sturniolo

stepbrother!matt x fem!reader

summary: where your dad found a new woman on his life after one year of your mom's death,so you are forced to live all together after a lot of pressure,but what you didn't know yet is that her son is a total temping being that will send you over the edge..in many ways.

warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex,not proofread,porn with plot,dirty talk,eating out,pet-names,suggestive,scratching,tits sucking,etc.

a/n: my first language is not English,this sure has some grammar or other errors so i am sorry<3

."🎀".

"what the fuck you mean we have to move in with her?" you were basically shouting on your dad,and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the fact that he had moved on so far already or cause he didn't even cared to ask you if you acknowledge with it.

"i told you too many times that this is a very big and important step to me honey,besides her place is absolutely flawless,you will love it" his words only made you angrier,but you decided not to push it anymore since you knew deep down it would be waste of time,he had made his decision.

--------------------------------------

the days passed quickly,and you found yourself holding your suitcase in front of a captivating building that would change a part of your life for many years,at least your dad did not lie,it was trully more than luxurious,so with a deep sigh you walked until the doorway with him,your anxious levels on high.

after a few knocks the door opened to reveal a surprisingly tall,appealing woman standing there,with brunette silky highlights and a pretty good enough shaped body,the sight made you furrow although you could tell why your father had fallen for her.you were caught off guard when you were the one she even pulled into an embrace first and seemed in general eager to meet you.

"oh sweetie your dad has told me many things about you,i am Lana,come in,come in" you didn't had much time to process because she was pushing your hand gently inside,your eyes widening as you took in the house with your eyes,it was for sure bringing vibes of a cozy,modern place.

you didn't want to be in your normal pissy mood for the reason that she was treating you politely for now,so you made a small comment "wow,the decoration is really nice"

"oh thank you,i want you to be comfortable and feel welcomed here,you can go check the guest room that will be your own,is down the hall,if you need any help just call out my name" you nodded a little and began making your way towards the apparently new space you will probably spend most of the day at.

but,without realizing a sudden unrecognized human figure appeared in front of you while making it's way to another room,making you leave a small yelp from your lips "who are you?"

the blye eyed boy raised an eyebrow once he heard the question,letting a sarcastic laugh as he spoke "very ironic for someone to ask when they are the one in my house" oh? well he had sure attitude for the few seconds you had met him. you were about to say something in response even so he continued, a sheepish grin forming on his lips when he examined your presence through his dark eyelashes "wait..you must be my stepsister"

"huh?" was the only word you could express,you were incredibly confused--who was he? "i am Lana's son, Matt,no one informed you about me?" it was like he was able to read your thoughts,it only creeped you out more.

"no..my father must forgot to announce your existence to me" the words snarked out of your tongue as you were trying hard to act sassy,but for a disguise,cause shit the more you were observeting him the more perfect he got.

he had the necessary amount of beard to sense in case he ever trailed kisses down your body,his blue orbs seemed like they could stare deep into your soul yet in a enjoyable way,and hell those fingers were too distracting for no reason,especially with those silver rings that were practically begging for attention.just any of his facial features were ideal--however you weren't supposed to fall for him,it would be wrong.

you snapped out of your thoughts when there was a sound of a familiar voice snapping across the end of the hall,approaching the both of you excitedly,even though she was addresing specifically to you "i see you guys met,sorry darlin' i forgot to have a quick chat with you about that i have a kid..anyway he may be a pain sometimes but i am sure you will get along well with him"

--------------------------------

two weeks have passed,and she was completely wrong.every day the urge of smashing a bottle on top of his head is only increasing,he would suddenly barg into your bedroom searching for his own belongings,asserting that he often lost things by accident since he is being here from time to time--why? his set-up pc is on your area for years now.

despite that,his own bedroom is just a few steps away from yours,you have been struggling with sleeping peacefully cause he would blast music on his speaker at 2-3 am,you are almost confirmed that he must be doing it on purpose--and it doesn't end here,there is worse.

you are aware of a guy having 'needs' so the occasional echo of moaning could be heard to you from the thin paper walls,you swear that it's music to your ears and you feel like your mind is sabotaging you.he is annoying,that though didn't stopped you from having a weird desire rising in you for him,a pang on your chest with guilt for possessing the most unholy fantasizes whenever he would roam around in just a pair of sweatpants.

with all this being said,you produced a baffling bond with Matt,signs showing that he is on the same page as you,which leads you to today.laying down on your bed with your phone on your hands,stressfully ignoring his presence a few meters away.him entirely concentrated on his screen computer playing--God knows what--video games,with the controller on his hands.the silense more than unbearable.

you were determined to prove to yourself that maybe you can spend some time with him,you took advantage of him not wearing any headphones and lightly tapped his shoulder,pointing towards the black console afterwards "can i try?" you anticipated for his response,silently hoping that he doesn't mind.

Matt was kind of surpised by your request,nevertheless he had finished the round so he nodded "umh..sure" he slid off from the gaming chair while handing you the controller,your fingers barely brushing with his yet enough to make your head spinning.

you rested your body on the mesh fabric as he sat on the bed,and with a glance of the buttons you were clueless of the task in hand,not having any idea on how to participate in the online game.luckily,he noticed the confused look written on your face so he came next to you and started to make a fast learning lesson,

he taught you how to jump,how to run,how to kill,and other features you require to have in case of a proper match.as he did so,you caught him taking a few glimpses of your chest--it's not like he could help it,your crop top was exposing a certain amount of your cleavage,making it hard for him to focus.

a devilish smile curled to your face when you noticed,feeling bold enough to adjust down the shirt such as leaving only your breasts covered--matt could feel his heart beat raising,the temperature of the room turning thick once he stopped talking.

"can you show me how to jump again? i don't think i get it" you spoke,a hint of suggestiveness leaking from your tone--and he didn't want more than just to devour you right there, your father and his mother had left for shopping,so you were both totally alone which sent shivers down your back,

the tension bloomed into a insufferable feeling between the two of you,causing your breath to hitch around your throat,especially when you felt his fingers starting to touch yours fully in attempt to answer your previous 'request'.a hushed gasp breaking out from you when there was a unexpected hand gesture tracing your thigh in a agonizingly pace--screw this.

with a smooth shift of your face and waist you palmed his cheeks,bringing his lips to yours into a fiery dance.he didn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth,impatiently exploring your taste before nipping down your bottom lip,eliciting a moan from you that get's shallowed against him,

the sound you made vibrated through matt's whole body,landing directly straight to his core and he could feel his jeans growing tight around his crotch,he didn't ever remembered himself getting hard from just a making out session--he craved more,he needed more,and so did you.

his hands started travelling their way to your stomach,crawling upwards until he squeezed your nipples over the fabric of your top and reaching to lift it up, "is this okay?" you nodded desperately at the question,he didn't wasted time by taking it off over your head,unclasping with one motion your bra afterwards to shower your bare chest with open-mouthed kisses,

your hums of approval soon turned into whimpers when he wrapped his mouth on the flesh of your left breast,swirling his tongue around it while his hand pinched the other between his free fingers,he repeated his actions by giving the same treatment to your right one after.

with a loud pop he pulled away,slowly reaching under the gaming chair so he is on his knees,his eye pupils half-lidded and fluttering over your face before he yanks off your shorts with panties,exposing your already wet dripping pussy to his hungry gaze,

"fuck you are soaked,how long have you been dreaming this? have you been waiting for me to finally pleasure you sweetheart?" you could him mutter cooing through gritted teeth,licking at your thighs in a intractable speed as he itches towards the arching spot in between your legs,lavishing his attention there as he made a long stripe up on your clit,making you buck your hips against his face shamelessly,

your nails found his hair,gripping and tugging on it for support,dragging a hiss from his mouth as he began to lap on your juices like you were his last meal,you started riding his face while whining pathetically,the obsence resounds filling the room as he continued to satisfy you.

his index finger rubbed your entrance,letting you shaking for more and barely hearing his gagged whispers "you taste so fucking amazing,such an intoxicating cunt",your lower abdomen started quivering into the familiar knot,reminding you of your approaching release,making you clench uncontrollably around his mouth,

"come on,finish all over face baby" matt sneered out when he sucked on robs of your pre-cum, your lips forming a perfect 'o' shape in the same time you swirled your digits on his roots so his head is forced to be still there,with a long pornographic moan you erupted,spurting thick,white jets that made your legs glistening.

after pulling away he swooped you into his arms,carrying you bridal-style on the mattress of the bed,him laying down firstly before grasping your sides stronly,helping you to be on top of him as he guided your hips so you can push against his clothed erection,the sensation maddening for the both of you.

your still sensitive heat grinded back and forth,feeling his cock poking under you so your hands progress to tug the zipper of his jeans down,sliding them down along with his boxers to his ankles in a way of exposing his throbbing tip,you usually didn't liked how dicks looked but matt's was different; a needy tenderness to have it deep inside you,he adjusted with ease the head down your folds,and with no doubt you sinked down on his length.

a unbidden squeal slipped from you as he grunted repeatedly,his grunts turned into loud groans of pure filthiness as soon as you started bouncing yourself,your tight walls squelching him, sending him closer to the edge even though it hadn't passed a minute of you riding him,his back arching forward which gave you the opportunity of scratching down the skin of his behind shoulders,

"such a good girl,fucking yourself on your stepbrother's cock, such a whore f'me" his words actually made you feel pitiful yet encouraging your movements to speed up their pace,his hips thrusting up to meet yours so he can pound into your hole frequently, "c-close" you panted out,your second orgasm increasing through you as your walls clinged around him,the actions driving matt insane "going to fill you up,do you want that? do you want me to cum inside you?"

you miserably sobbed in bliss and let a ''hphm'' of approval,before you knew it matt had busted,his climax exploding extremely hard into your pussy,following suit after him with your head throwed back and stopping after a minute so you can pull yourself out of him,both of you being a panting mess,

"that was incredible" "i am never letting you to even enter my room again"

------------------------------------

evelyn speaks!! thank you so much for 250 followers jixijcmjg,my last post with Matt got more than 800 notes likeee insane,thank you ALL for the support it means everything xoxo🤍🤍

tags! @writtensturn @pixiespax @verywonderlandpolice @itsnotmariahh @user9383738392 @monroesturnns @badussybumper @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @shadowthesim

[velvetti]

Sea of lust

Warning: Non-con, Kidnapping, Beastiality, Tentacles, Stimulation of both holes at once, NFST, Cream pie, Overstimulation, Not proofread

The ocean is a rather unfamiliar thing to humans. The ocean is everywhere, it covers the entire Earth yet nobody has managed to figure out what's under the first layer of the sea and come back in one piece without any special equipments, or come back in general.

You are one of the unfortunate folks to wander too far away from shore while diving. You didn't notice it at first as the water only turned to a colder shade and there were less living things around you, there wasn't any coral, there was just cold deep water, sand and seaweed. You dives deeper, wanting to find out if there's any other thing in the bottom of the ocean.

You brush your hand against the sand floor, picking up a single shell that you managed to find but there isn't anything special about it, it doesn't look like any kind of shell you had seen during all his diving journeys before. You dives forward while looking around, trying to find any other thing.

Luckily, or unluckily, you had noticed a living being after diving for so long. The creature wasn't anything you had seen before, it looks like some kind of weird mutant octopus with multiple tentacles. It's heading your way.

As any normal person would do, you try to get out of the ocean immediately, trying to dive back to shore and get away from the creature before it could get to you. The creature reaches its tentacles out to wrap around your body effortlessly, pulling you in closer and... Submerging you inside it? The creature isn't eating you, it's trapping you in its body like some kind of capsule.

You look around the insides of the creature after it has submerged you inside it. It's pitch black in here due to how dark it is, you reach to find your diving flash light and turn it on, just to be greeted with the sight of many small tentacles that are reaching out towards you. Two tentacles wrap around your knees to hold your legs open, another tentacle going to wrap both of your hands together, holding it behind your back.

You try to scream for help, of course nobody is gonna hear you, you're under the sea, silly. He'll take really good care of you.

Another tentacle starts to rip your tight diving suit into small pieces, revealing your entire torso and lower body. A tentacle goes over to rub against your crotch, it's sloppy feeling against your hole sends a chill down your spine. Another going over to shove its way into your mouth to muffle your pathetic noises, playing with your tongue. Two of them move to play with your chest, moving against your nipples and pinching them even when they start to hurt.

When the creature thinks that you're loose enough, it shoves a tentacle inside of you without any warning, causing you to feel a weird tingle in your stomach. The tentacles don't leave you a moment to think however, they start to move in and out of both your holes, their sloppiness makes the experience enjoyable and surprisingly pleasant. You can believe you're saying this, but you low-key like this.

The tentacles gradually increase its speed, one going over to pull your hair back to give the other tentacle more access to your throat, making your back arch. The two tentacles hold your leg open wider as another tentacle enters your hole, shoving it inside despite the previous tentacle, causing you to cum and tightening around all the tentacles.

The tentacles down there move in a mind breaking speed, it feels so good to be filled up like this. While one pushes against your sensitive spot, the other pulls out just to pound against that same spot while the other moves out, just to repeat the process over and over again. The tentacle in your mouth felt as if it was making out with you, making your brain melt as the salty taste fills your mouth. A few tentacles that aren't stimulating you are kissing your skins, leaving circle marks behind like some kind of hickeys.

The tentacles milked you dry, tormenting you even when you're extremely overly stimulated, even when your liquids had soaked the tentacles and when you're sobbing from all the pleasure. Finally you feel warm spurts deep inside your stomach and your mouth, loads of it as the tentacles pounds into you many more times before finally pulling out of your body, the tentacles are still holding your legs open and keep your wrists together. You look down with droopy eyes to see loads of semen dripping out of your hole, tears fall down from your eyes down onto your stomach. You close your eyes and fall asleep as one of the tentacles goes over to pet your head and ruffle your hair, presumably as a gift for doing a good job.

By the time you woke up, you were naked in a deep cave, the creature sleeping and a bowl full of ripe fruits next to you. As you pick up and take a bite out of an apple, you begin to think about what just happened. The creature looked surprisingly docile and adorable like this, as if it didn't just fuck you into overstimulation earlier. Maybe this isn't so bad...

[sinkovia]

Regretful bets

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Fluff with light angst

You gaze at the picture of your late parents, a bittersweet reminder of how far you've come. It's been alittle over a year since you joined the task force, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride wash over you. Although you didn't have your family anymore, you'd found a new one within the task force. In the rec room, a small celebration was underway, the team reveling in the success of their recent mission.

The guys decided to buy some drinks and engage in a game of pool. You sat on the couch, focused on some paperwork when Ghost took a seat next to you and handed you a drink.

"Supposed to be celebrating, love, not buried in paperwork," his words and close proximity making your heart flutter. You've held an interest in Ghost since you joined the task force, but you never tried to pursue it, believing he wasn't the type for relationships.

"I know, I just wanted to finish up, get it out of the way. These reports for the last mission have been kicking my ass." You took a sip of your drink.

"I can help you with it if you'd like."

You hesitated, surprised by his offer. "Oh no, it's okay. I know you have your own report to do."

Ghost leaned a bit closer to you, "I've already finished mine. I can teach you a thing or two about getting them done faster."

"Really? I mean, yeah, I'd appreciate that."

"Maybe we can meet over dinner?"

Your mind raced as you processed his words. Was this a friendly gesture or something more? "These files can't leave the base," you reminded him.

"Right, I forgot. Well, we can get dinner and then work on the report after. How does that sound, love?"

Your face heated up, and you stammered out a response, "That sounds good."

"It's a date then. I'll come get you tomorrow at 8." Ghost got up and left the rec room, leaving you in a state of utter disbelief. You rushed to your room and squeezed your pillow, excitement and anticipation swirling inside you.

Ghost took you to a cozy restaurant in town, and over dinner, you discovered his love for telling awful puns. Surprisingly, you found them funny, and the lighthearted atmosphere made the evening even more enjoyable. After your meal, you pulled him to a small traveling carnival nearby where you both played games and he won you a few plushies. As you made your way back to the base, you stood in front of your door.

"We never got to the report," you mentioned with a laugh.

"Maybe we can do them after lunch tomorrow?" Ghost was leaning against the doorframe, he was close, his arm casually resting on the frame above you. You smile as your eyes met his. Breath caught when he lifted his balaclava, leaning in to plant a sweet, soft kiss on your lips, his smile lingering as he pulled away.

"How does that sound, love?"

You smiled as you turned around to unlock your door, looking back for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow at 4," you said, noticing the wide smile on his face before closing the door, leaving you to get ready for bed. You lay there, smiling, thinking about how sweet he was, nothing like you'd initially imagined. A week later, Ghost officially asked you out, and you had been dating since. A month in a half passed and you couldn't be happier.

You often stayed up late with him, soothing his insomnia, running your fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, making tea for him in the mornings. Many nights, you'd stay up together, talking until you saw the sunrise. You were always there for him. You were walking to price's office when you saw graves walking out of it. He smiled as he approached you.

"Sargeant I was just looking for you." you furrowed your brows a bit in confusion, why would graves be looking for you.

"Is everything okay sir?"

"Price tells me that you're one of his best shots with a sniper."

You blushed slightly, proud of Price's words. "He flatters me," a smile gracing your face.

Graves was quick to get to the point, "I want you to join my Shadow Company."

Your smile faded, and you hesitated, "What? I mean thank you for the offer sir but I can't. I'm part of 141. This is my home. I've built a family here."

Graves looked disappointed but still gave you a nod, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Well, the offer is still open if you change your mind. We leave tomorrow morning."

You and ghost just slept together for the first time since you started dating. You lay on his chest, tracing small circles on his chest while he combed his fingers through your hair. Your stomach grumbled, and you shifted your head to look at Ghost, who appeared lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Ghost's eyes met yours as he kissed your forehead. "I'm okay love, just hungry."

"Me too. Want to get some takeout for us?"

"Yeah, let me get dressed."

You grabbed one of Ghost's shirts, throwing it on as you watched him get dressed. He gave you a kiss before heading out. Your eyes go to his wallet on your night stand and you throw on a pair of sweats before running after him. Ghost was walking down the hallway when he bumped into Soap.

"Listen Johnny, about the bet-" Soap laughed, handing over the money from his wallet.

"Bloodly hell Ghost, you finally slept with her? You were cutting it close. You had a week left." Soap was still laughing when he glanced behind Ghost and cursed under his breath, quickly walking away. Ghost slowly turned around and furrowed his brows when he saw you.

"Fuck, Y/n, it's not what you think,"

"You were only with me for a bet?" Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Love, please let me explain." He took a step closer, but you stepped back.

"Don't call me that. Just answer the fucking question." Your voice trembled with anger and disbelief.

Ghost's eyes were desperate as he tried to explain, "No– I mean, yes, Johnny bet me 200 if I could sleep with you within two months, but I swear to you that—"

"200 dollars? That's what I was worth? Everything I did for you was worth throwing it all away for 200 dollars?" You threw his wallet at his chest.

"Y/n please, I love—"

"I hate you." Tears streamed down your face as you turned away. Ghost reached out to grab your hand, attempting to stop you from walking away.

"Don't fucking touch me. I don't ever want to see you again."

You walked away, and Ghost stood there, watching your retreating figure until you disappeared around the corner. His gaze fell to his wallet on the floor, and a polaroid of you two together slipped out. He picked it up, looking at your face, you were both in the middle of laughing when price had taken the picture. The realization of his mistake hit him like a truck.

"Fuck."

You began packing you things, throwing them all in your duffle bag. You picked up the small seal plushy that ghost had won for you on your first date. You leave it on the bed with all of the pictures you had of him next to it. You walk down the hallway and make your way over to graves temporary office. You gently knock before opening the door. You see him gathering some papes and his gaze meets yours. He sees the puffiness in your eyes.

"Is everything okay Y/n?"

"If your offer is still open I would like to join your company." Graves is thrown off by your eagerness as earlier today you had told him you couldnt. He didnt question it, he smiled and handed you patch.

"We leave in an hour." you nod and walk out of his office.

The weight of regret bore down on Ghost, a heavy burden he couldn't shake as he thought back on the time you had spent together. Somewhere along the line he stopped pretending. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with you. He should have told Soap the deal was off a long time ago, he should have never taken the bet in the first place. He made a promise to himself to talk to you tomorrow; he didn't want to approach you while you were still so angry.

But that night was sleepless for Ghost. The absence of your presence in his bed left it feeling colder...emptier. When morning arrived, he mustered the courage to approach your door, knocking gently. No answer. He knocked again, and still, you didn't respond. He called out your name, pleading, but the silence was deafening.

Concern gnawed at his insides and slowly he twisted the doorknob. His heart sank as the door opened fully, revealing your empty room. His eyes fell upon the plushie and polaroids on your bed.

No. No, no, no. He refused to believe you were gone.

Panicking, he rushed into Price's office without knocking. Price’s brows furrow in confusion as Ghost asked, "Where is she?"

"She didn't tell you? She joined Graves' shadow company. She left with them this morning."

Ghost slumped on Price's couch, feeling like his heart had been torn out. You had left the task force, the place you had worked so hard to be a part of, all because of him. Regret and guilt washed over him as he realized the enormity of his mistake. You made him happy, and you both could have had a happy life together. He sat there, wondering what might have been if he had only made different choices.

Two years later...

You were inside alejandros base when you heard graves yelling and gun shots in the garage. You made your way out and froze in your tracks when you saw Graves zip tying alejandros hands together.

What the fuck is happening?

A bullet whizzed past your face, grazing your cheek, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. You turned to see Ghost pointing a gun at you from behind a vehicle. Time seemed to slow as your eyes locked onto his, a mix of surprise and recognition in his gaze. His eyes grew wide as they trailed over your face. For a moment, you both remained frozen in place. But before either of you could react, two shadows tackled Ghost, ziptying his hands behind his back. Your eyes never left him as they dragged him and Alejandro into the base

What. The. Fuck.

You walk up to Graves as he's calling for his men to chase after soap who ran away.

"Whats happening?" He smiled patting your shoulder.

"It's nothing, go back inside and make sure our shadows get them to their cells."

You turned around quickly walking towards Alejandro's cell block, you didn't know why graves betrayed the 141. You had just been working with them.

You had asked Graves if he could put you on comms as you didnt want to see them in person. Thankfully you never had to directly talk to Ghost. Two years had passed but the ache was still as present as ever. You watched as they threw Ghost into the cell, shutting it behind him. He was being treated in a manner that should have left you feeling satisfied, but instead, a sense of unease gnawed at you. You couldn't help but be bothered by the way they threw him in the cell. As the days passed, you found yourself unable to resist the urge to walk by his cell, day after day, a silent presence in his world.

What the hell were you doing?

You walked past his cell door when you heard Ghosts voice from the other side.

"Y/n."

You froze in your tracks, how the hell did he know it was you. The doors didn't have windows.

"How did you know?" there was a long pause before he spoke.

"I know the sound of your walk."

Your feet seemed to move of their own accord, taking you to the front of his door. Without a second thought, you unlocked it and stepped inside, closing the door behind you. His eyes were on you as you entered, and in those moments, you felt an overwhelming sense of longing. You tried your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but your eyes, you knew, were betraying you. In those lingering gazes, you both shared a deep longing, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that still lingered between you.

"You're so beautiful."

"Did soap bet you 20 to say that?" his eyes went from yours to the ground as the words left your lips.

"Y/n I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I should have never taken the bet. You didn't deserve that."

"You broke my heart Ghost," your voice quivering with the weight of your emotions. "I...I loved you so much, and you didn't even care about me."

Ghost's eyes widen, and he stands up, walking toward you. You instinctively take a step back, and soon, you're backed up against the cell door. He reaches out and cups your face, his taller frame towering over you. You meet his intense gaze with tears in your eyes.

"I loved you so much, I still do," he confesses. Tears streaming down your face, your heartache and longing were laid bare for him to see.

"Liar." You choked out.

Ghost's voice wavered as he tried to explain, "I promise you, after I asked you out, I started to fall for you. I loved you, y/n, with my whole heart. My life was so dull, and I've suffered every day without you by my side since you left. My biggest regret was not telling Soap that the deal was off." You looked up at him, shaking your head as tears continued to fall. His words were filled with regret.

"Ever since you left, the only thing I could think about was the life that we could have had together. The life that slipped away because I was stupid." You buried your face in his chest, overwhelmed with emotion, as you sobbed in his arms. He held you tight, his hand running through your hair.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, his voice heavy with regret.

You pushed your head back slightly to meet his eyes, your own voice trembling with emotion. Not even five minutes with him after two years being apart and you already caved into him.

"Promise me, Promise me that you'll spend the rest of your life making it up to me, and i'll get you out of here."

"Only if you promise to come with me." your brows furrowed and you opened your mouth but ghost cut you off.

"We can fake our deaths, we can get far away from all of this. I dont want to be in a line of work that could easily take you away from me. Two years was hard enough, I couldn't imagine a lifetime without you."

As his words sank in, your mind raced to comprehend his proposal. Ghost wanted to build a life with you, away from the world of shadow companies, the 141, and the constant danger of missions. It was a vision of a peaceful and quiet life, just the two of you in a tranquil home somewhere far away from the chaos you had known. A warm, heartfelt smile spread across your face, and without hesitation, you agreed.

"Okay."

You snuck him out of his cell and made your way over to alejandros, taking out a few shadows along the way. Alejandro nearly smashed your head into the wall but Ghost was quick to let him know that you were helping them escape. Together, you successfully made your way out of the base. Alejandro took the lead, guiding you along the safest route. Finally, you reached a safehouse, and he was about to call Rudy, when ghost stopped him fom making the call.

"We aren't going back." Alejandro looked at him a bit confused, his brows furrowing.

"What do you mean you're not going back?"

"When you see Price again, tell him we were K.I.A trying to get you out," The words hung in the air for a moment, and Alejandro's gaze shifted from Ghost to yours, where he noticed your radiant smile. It became clear to him what was happening, and he nodded in understanding, a smile forming on his own face.

"You can take one of my cars if you need it, I wish the both of you well and thank you for everything you have done for me." Ghost shook Alejandro's hand, and then he took yours, leading you toward his garage.

6 years later...

"Hey! Don't run with a fork; you're going to hurt yourself!" you call out to your 4-year-old child as he dashes around with the utensil. With your 1-year-old in your arms, you watch as Simon swoops in, lifting your 4-year-old off the ground and taking the fork away. You breathe a sigh of relief and smile as you see Simon playfully wrestle with him on the couch.

The both of you have come a long way in the six years since you both ran away and started a life together. Every day you thank yourself for going inside Simon's cell, as your heart swells with happiness at the beautiful family you've built together. He walks over taking the baby from your arms and lifting her up as she laughs. You smile as you watch his radiant smile as he looks up at his daughter. He cradles her in his arms as he leans down and kisses you.

"I love you." He says, and a wide smile graces your features.

"Did soap bet you to say that?."

[seungkw1]

office hours — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, nonidol!au ♡ wc: ~6.2k ♡ warnings: swearing, smut, reader is gender neutral but wears a skirt, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe y’all), creampie, petnames (f. receiving - baby), fluff at the end if you squint ♡ a/n: this whole thing is a highly self-indulgent fic so if reader is down horrendous for bsk… u know why

‧₊˚✩彡 moodboard by @myhimbomingi ‧₊˚✩彡

You fucking hate Tuesdays. 

There’s nothing actually wrong with your Tuesday schedule - on the contrary it’s probably the best day of the week in terms of lectures and extracurriculars. Your first class of the day, Developmental Psychology, doesn’t start til 11am, so you get to sleep in - always a win in your book. Afterwards you have an hour and a half break, usually spent by eating lunch in the student center and then a visit to the campus library to get some studying done. Then your 2pm Discussion for your Intro to Fiction class, followed by yoga at the gym - and since your work-study job at the Cognitive Research Lab doesn’t have you scheduled for Tuesdays, you get to go home right after. All in all, a pretty laid-back day in your hectic college life.

Except for that stupid 2pm Discussion. 

As a Psychology major you didn’t anticipate having to take any Literature courses, but you needed to fill an elective and Intro to Fiction had a reputation for being a fun, low-stakes course. It also fit conveniently into your Fall Semester schedule, so you signed up. Professor Mendoza turned out to be super nice and never gives any bullshit extra homework, and the assigned books have been surprisingly enjoyable. No, none of that is the problem. 

The problem is the hot TA you’ve inadvertently fallen in love with. 

Your first encounter with Seungkwan had been a bit embarrassing - the first week of the semester you somehow went to the completely wrong building, and even with speed walking you arrived to Discussion about five minutes late. You tried to sneak in quietly but the loud, creaky door hinge had other plans. Twenty-some pairs of eyes turned to stare at the idiot latecomer, but the pair you locked onto were the soft brown ones surrounded by long dark eyelashes, belonging to the blazer-wearing grad student standing at the front of the classroom. 

You would’ve been embarrassed in this situation anyway, but the unexpected eye contact made your stomach drop and your face turn hot. You stood there for a few moments too long, before muttering a feeble “sorry” under your breath as you made your way to the only empty seat in the room - which of course was located at the very front, immediately before the TA. You quickly took your seat and pulled out a notebook (not even the right one, but you were too frazzled to notice). The TA, whose name you missed due to being late, resumed his lecture. You started writing down everything he was saying - definitely not necessary, but you were doing your best to focus without looking up. 

Your face eventually stopped burning up, but this classroom was particularly warm and stuffy. You set down your pen and took your cardigan off, hanging it over the back of the chair. Mindlessly looking up, you look at the TA for the first time since sitting down. He too had discarded his outerwear - the muted brown herringbone blazer now laying aside on the teacher’s desk upon which he was leaning. His dark brown shoes matched his dark pants - which weren’t tight but certainly hugged his thighs nicely, but you tried not to think about that - and he was currently rolling up the sleeves of his medium gray button down - and you definitely tried not to think about that. You put your head back down and focused on your note-taking, transcribing everything without actually processing any of what he said. This was all very strange for you - sure some of your past TAs had been nice looking, but why was this particular one making you this flustered? 

The clock ticked on at an unbearably slow pace. You took your notes and paid no attention, not joining in on the conversation even once. You just have to make it through the hour, you kept telling yourself. But the hour seemed to never end. 

You snap out of it as the TA finally wraps up the class. 

“Don’t forget to read through chapter 5,” he reminds everyone. You realize you don’t even know which book you’re supposed to be reading, but it’s too late to ask now - you’ve looked like enough of a fool today already. Quickly packing your bag, you try to make your escape but as you are heading toward the door the TA calls out to you. Shit.  

“I just need to get your name - for attendance,” he tells you as you turn back around. 

“Oh… yeah,” you reply. You silently curse yourself for how stupid you sound. You tell him your name and he makes note of your attendance in his notes. You try to escape again but not before he sticks his hand out to you. 

“Seungkwan,” he introduces himself. You make the mistake of looking into those big round doe eyes again. He was even more beautiful up close. SHIT. 

You shake his hand, trying to do so as quickly as possible, but he has a very strong grip. 

“Nice to have you in class,” he says warmly. 

“Nicetomeetyoutoo!” you reply, taking your hand back and turning to dart out the door before he can get another word in. 

You don’t look back, so you don’t see how his eyes are glued to you as you hurriedly exit the classroom. 

—

You thought after a few classes you’d get over your dumb little crush on your TA, but four weeks into the semester and it’s only gotten worse. Now that you know where the stupid building is, you always make sure to arrive to Discussion early so you can snag a seat in the very back - as far away from him as you can manage - but this only allows your mind to wander. Watching him from the back of the class, you’ve unintentionally memorized his subtle habits: the way he takes his glasses case out of his bag at the beginning of each class, opening it and wiping the lenses clean with a cloth before placing them on his face with two hands, delicately moving his hair off to the side as not to obscure his vision; the way he leans against the desk, resting his weight on his palms as he listens to the students engage in conversation about the current book; the way he holds his well-worn copy in his left hand when referencing the text, flipping through the dog-eared pages filled with highlights and notes written in ink in the margins, laying the book on the desk pages-down to preserve his place when he goes to write important points on the chalkboard; the way he carefully erases the board as not to create a cloud of dust, wiping his hands together away from his body as not to get chalk on his perfectly pressed clothes; the way he focuses so intently when somebody is speaking, maintaining eye contact and nodding his head slightly, giving them his full attention.

That last one is why you never say a word in that class. You’re pretty sure you would combust on the spot.

Unfortunately, your entire grade for the Discussion portion of the course is based on actually engaging in the discussion - and based on your participation thus far you were right on track for getting an entire zero. I’ll say something next week, you tell yourself - then next week rolls around and you don’t say a damn thing. And repeat. You just hope Seungkwan doesn’t say anything to you. 

But he does. 

You freeze upon hearing your name as you’re gathering your belongings at the end of session. You look up and meet his gaze, doing your best to maintain a relaxed demeanor. It’s only a little eye contact, just chill. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” you respond nonchalantly. He gives you a bit of an inquisitive look, so you add on a polite smile.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t participated at all during discussion so far - you know that’s what I have to grade you on, right?”

“Oh yeah, um- I’ve been… I’ll work on that.”

The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. “I graded your first essay - you showed exemplary comprehension and your analysis was one of the best ones I’ve read.”

You feel your stomach do a flip. The sudden praise caught you off guard. 

“Oh uh, thank you,” you stammer, trying not to display how flustered you are but undoubtedly failing. 

You make the mistake (again) of making direct eye contact with Seungkwan. It lasts maybe two seconds, but feels like time has slowed; the world has stopped; nothing matters but you and him, standing alone in this room together. You’ve never wanted to impulsively kiss somebody this bad in your life. 

You force yourself back to reality. 

Seungkwan continues. “But, if you’re having some trouble with this particular novel,” he says as he holds up his book, “you can always stop by my office hours with any questions.”

You glance at his copy of Dracula. It’s a standard size paperback, but it looks small in his hand - a hand so strong and defined, yet elegant, fingers long and graceful…

Nope. Not gonna think about that right now. 

“I hold them every Thursday from 3-5pm - in this building, room 430. Top floor - all the way at the end of the hallway.” 

You nod - looking at him without making direct eye contact. “Cool cool. I’ll uh… Thanks, I might take you up on that.”

“Of course,” he replies matter-of-factly. He pauses, then adds with a slight smile, “It is my job after all.” 

Picking up his coat, he heads toward the door, and you follow. He holds the door open for you; as you pass by him you catch the scent of his cologne: woody but fresh, notes of patchouli and bergamot. You utter a soft “Thank you”. He nods chivalrously. 

Exiting the discussion room, he starts heading in the opposite direction as you. “See ya around!” you blurt out suddenly. He pauses - turning over his shoulder, he nods once more at you. “Have a good one,” he responds cordially. Maybe you’re seeing things, but his eyes seem to linger on you for a split second longer than one would expect. 

You watch him walk away for as long as you can get away with without being detected. 

As you make your way to the gym you ruminate over what he told you. Office hours. You didn’t really see a need to go - you weren’t actually having any trouble with the book. And of course office hours are open to all students, but the chance that you might be alone in a room with him again, having a one-on-one conversation…

You try to push the thought aside. You arrive to yoga, prepared to clear your head - but you spend the whole class thinking about Seungkwan. You head home after class, sitting on the bus with your headphones in, blasting your favorite album - but still your mind dwells on your TA. You get home and sit down to continue the novel, reading the next chapter - but you quickly give up. You’re absorbing none of the story, so you’d have to reread it anyway. 

Maybe you will go to office hours after all. 

—

Thursday. You’ve been trying not to think about Seungkwan’s office hours, but of course it’s just the white bear experiment all over again - the harder you tried, the more you ended up thinking about it. Your last class - Statistics - ends at 3:30pm, so you have all day to debate whether to go or not. Damn him for holding them so late in the day. 

Your Stats professor could not be a more uninteresting lecturer if he tried. You spend most of the class stifling your yawns as you do your best to pay attention, to no avail. Finally, the clock hits 3:30 and class is dismissed. You have to make your decision now - so naturally you end up going to the library to procrastinate said decision and mull it over some more. 

After many wasted minutes trying (and failing) to get some homework done, you check the time: 4:19pm. With a sigh you open up your book to leaf through the pages, looking for something you could make up some bullshit question about. Nothing. Mildly peeved, you open your laptop and pull up trusty sparknotes.com. All the discussion questions seem too juvenile, and you’re pretty sure you’d manage to make a fool of yourself if you tried to ask a question you already knew the answer to. 

You decide to abandon your plan to drop by with specific questions and instead just hope and pray there will be other students there so you can simply join in on their conversations. If there aren’t… you’ll just have to figure that out when you get there. 

You make your way to the Literature Studies building, realizing upon your arrival there is no elevator - and your destination is on the top floor. Cursing the building for being old, you trek up the stairs in search of room 430, which - as he mentioned - appears to be at the very end of the hallway. Nearly there, you abruptly decide to backtrack to the restroom you passed to check yourself in the mirror real quick, which turns out to be a mistake because now you’re hyperaware of how anxious (and for some reason, frumpy) you look right now. Nice going you idiot. 

Doing your best to make yourself presentable, you tussle your hair a bit and fix the collar of your shirt back to its proper position. You decide it’s good enough and go to exit the bathroom, pausing when you remember that you have a tinted lip balm you threw in your bag last minute. Rummaging through your bag for a solid 20 seconds, you find the tube at the very bottom and hastily apply it to your lips. Taking a step back, you take a final glance at your reflection - the balm is neutral-colored and fairly subtle, but makes you look slightly less dead. You’ll take the W. 

You make your way back down the hallway toward room 430. Approaching the end of the hall, you hear voices engaged in conversation. You pull out your phone to quickly check the time: 22 minutes of office hours remaining. Good enough, I guess. You’re three steps away from the doorway when you hear a familiar voice chime in - a voice soft and soothing, confident without being cocky. You proceed to enter the office before you have a chance to process how it’s making you feel. 

You find yourself in a room small yet cozy - bookshelves built into the wall that go all the way up to the ceiling, stacked with endless literature: many classics you’ve heard of, many others you haven’t. There’s no overhead lighting, but two antique-ish looking floor lamps illuminate the room with a warm-toned glow. An old, large mahogany desk fills nearly half the room, its accompanying chair vacant. Two fellow classmates are seated in the two smaller chairs facing the dark leather loveseat upon which your TA is currently sitting - reclined, one leg over the other knee, hand on the open book laying face down on the couch next to him. The three faces turn to look at you as you enter, bringing their conversation to a halt. You fucking hate being collectively perceived in any circumstance, but something about the intimacy of the room makes this particular situation even worse than usual. You feel your face start to turn warm but you quickly shove the embarrassment back down. Not today. 

Seungkwan greets you amiably, your name sounding sweet in his mellow voice. “Glad you could make it! Come on in, have a seat.” He picks up the paperback by his side and sets it on his lap, motioning for you to sit next to him. 

Right. Next. To. Him. 

Ignoring the million panic alarms going off in your head, you force a small smile and take your seat. The couch is even smaller than it seemed - there’s maybe two feet between you and him. You’re greeted with the inviting scent of his cologne. 

The two students resume their discussion. You sit there mostly in silence, nodding along, trying not to fixate on Seungkwan’s closeness. But it’s hard to focus on anything other than that - like, really hard.

The twenty-ish minutes pass rather quickly, and the conversation that you’ve contributed nothing to starts to wrap up. The two other students begin packing their bags. You pull out your phone to check the time - 4:57pm. A sense of relief washes over you as you’ll be forced to leave now - no more sitting there anxiously not knowing what to say - but you’re also feeling a little sulky about leaving so soon. You politely say goodbye back to your classmates, who are already on their way out the door. You go to put on your jacket only to discover you never took it off (no wonder it felt so warm in here). Grabbing your book and tossing it in your backpack, you hurry to leave as well before you manage to do or say something to embarrass yourself. 

“Bye! Thank you!” you say cheerily as you step out the door.

“Y/n?”

You stop in your tracks. You turn around to face Seungkwan, who is still sitting on the couch, reclined, with his arm now laying across the back where you just were. That makes you feel a lot of things, which you promptly ignore.

“Yeah?” you reply, hoping a smile will cover your nervousness.

“I believe you took my book.”

You stand there for a moment, confused, before you realize you never took your own copy out. The one you hastily threw into your bag was his. So much for not embarrassing yourself.

“Oh my god I’m SO sorry!!” you blurt out, swinging your backpack around and hurrying to retrieve it.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I did set it right next to you.”

You grab his copy out of your bag and hold it out to him sheepishly. He stands up and takes the book in his hand, his fingers brushing yours slightly. You’ve never been electrocuted, but you’re pretty sure what just jolted through your body was a similar sensation.

“Did you have any questions about the book?” he asks before you can bolt out the door. “You didn’t say much in our discussion today-” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he gently puts his hand up to stop you. “I just want to make sure I can help you if you came here with something specific in mind.” 

“Oh, um…” You hesitate, fiddling with your coat sleeve. You decide to tell the truth.  

“Honestly, not really. I kinda just came here to get an idea of how I can participate during class. Cuz, y’know. Don’t really want a zero.”

Seungkwan nods. “Your essays have been very good, I know you’re a highly capable student.” 

You try not to blush. You know he’s just talking about your coursework, but accepting compliments is not your forté. 

“I’m just… not a literature student, so I’m not used to taking classes like these. I guess I just get a little nervous that I’m gonna say something stupid.” You’re not sure why you’re telling him all this. 

“As long as you’ve read and understood the text, you won’t sound stupid - I promise.” 

You look down at the floor. Maybe these are normal things for TAs to say to students, but the fact that you’re kind of in love with him is not helping right now. 

“Besides,” he continues, “I’m the one grading you. I assure you you’ll get a good grade as long as you participate.”

“Well, that’s good news,” you say with a contented smile. You do feel reassured by his words. “Thanks again,” you say, as you turn to leave. 

“Oh, and y/n?”

You lock eyes with him, a recurring habit you seem to be unable to quit. 

“If you ever can’t make my office hours, feel free to email me. I’m sure we can find another time to meet one-on-one.”

One-on-one???

“Oh cool, I… appreciate that.” Does he say that to all his students?? He must, right? Don’t be delusional…

He nods courteously. “See you in class.”

“You too!” you add brightly as you finally head out the door. This time you do look back to see him still looking at you, with an ambiguous look on his face that you cannot decipher.

For the rest of the week, for once, you find yourself looking forward to Tuesday.

—

Tuesday. You resume your usual very-back-of-the-room spot for Discussion - but this time you finally engage in the class’ conversation. You still feel kinda dumb about it, but your TA’s promise of giving you a good grade so long as you participate sticks with you. Besides, who gives a shit what the other students think of you. There is only one person in that room whose opinion you care about, and you seem to have his approval, for reasons unclear to you. Maybe you are just a decent student. But the fact that there’s maybe something else there… You don’t let yourself develop delusions of grandeur, but there’s no crime in being cautiously optimistic. 

On Thursday you find yourself back at office hours, this time arriving a bit earlier - though much to your chagrin the two other students from last time are there again. You’re not sure exactly what you were hoping for if it was just you alone, especially considering you still don’t have any specific questions about the book, but you were kind of hoping it would happen anyway. But alas, you partake in office hours with company. You actually find yourself enjoying these literary discussions a bit, now that you (sort of) know how to engage with them properly.

And so you become a regular at Seungkwan’s office hours - Thursday afternoons quickly becoming the highlight of your week. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happens between you two - and there’s always other students there whenever you attend - but you don’t see any harm in enjoying your time spent with him. 

Per usual, though, as finals approach more and more students start attending as well. One week you show up at 3pm sharp, only to find five students already there asking questions about their essays. You acknowledge that it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he does seem genuinely pleased to see you - pausing his conversation briefly to greet you, your name spoken warmly with a smile on his face. You make a mental note that he doesn’t greet anyone else who enters by name.

Seungkwan maintains a very patient and polite composure, but you get the sense that he is rather irked at the several students who are more or less trying to get him to write part of their essays for them. You chat for a few minutes with a friendly classmate you’ve become acquainted with, but ultimately you both give up on trying to talk to the TA and decide to leave. You sneak a quick glance back as you exit, catching Seungkwan’s eye right before you’re out of his line of sight. Though perhaps you weren’t so sneaky, because once you’re in the hallway your classmate nudges you with her elbow and teases, “Ooooh you have a crush on him don’t you?”

You scoff. “Oh please.”

“No seriously, he looked like a sad puppy seeing you go. You should ask him out.”

You roll your eyes and give her a “Yeah, right,” before casually changing the subject. But her comment sticks with you, and for days your mind keeps coming back to it. You’re hesitant to jump to conclusions, but the fact that she noticed it too… Perhaps you will shoot your shot after all. 

—

Taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t get a chance to speak with him during his regular office hours, you decide to take Seungkwan up on his offer. You did rewrite the email about 15 times, erase it repeatedly, and almost give up entirely, but in the end you came up with a message you deemed solidly good enough:

Hi Seungkwan, I was wondering if you have any availability to meet to discuss the current essay. I have a few questions that I feel would be easier to convey in person. I understand finals are a very busy time though, so if you aren’t available I completely understand. Thank you.

You hit send at 11:57pm on Sunday night, so you figure you’ll get a response the next morning. Before you can even close your laptop, you get an email notification.

Hi y/n, I’d be happy to meet with you. Are you available Tuesday evening after 6pm? I apologize for the odd hours, but that would be the most ideal time for me. However, if that does not work for you I’m sure we can figure something out.  Seungkwan

You sit and stare at your screen rereading it for a good five minutes. You hit the reply button.

Sure, that works for me! Thank you - I really appreciate it.

The light ping of a notification returns within seconds.

Of course, y/n. See you then.

You shut your laptop, your hand resting on top of it as your mind races, rapidly cycling between excited and anxious. You keep telling yourself to lower your expectations: you’re simply meeting with your TA to discuss your essay - which, you don’t actually have any questions about, so now you’ll have to make some shit up. But that can be a tomorrow problem. Tonight, you go to bed, half-coherent thoughts of literature, exams, and a certain pair of soft brown eyes floating around in your mind as you drift off to sleep. 

—

You wake up on Tuesday and immediately enter into panic mode. You can’t seem to focus on anything other than your date meeting with Seungkwan later - which of course you expected, but it’s pretty inconvenient considering you have so much to do with finals rapidly drawing near. Your Discussion class is finished for the semester, so you won’t be seeing him until evening - you’re not sure if this makes things better or worse, but it is what it is. You spend the entire afternoon in the library, sitting amongst the stacks, sort of studying but mostly doing a whole fucking lot of daydreaming instead.

After several hours of minimal productivity, you check the time: 5:36pm. You feel your heart start to beat faster. Since you’re clearly not going to get anything else done, you pack up your belongings and make your way to the Literature building. Might as well get there a little early.

You climb the four flights of stairs to the top floor, the building strangely empty. Making your way down to the very end of the hallway you wonder if Seungkwan will even be there yet or if you’ve arrived early for nothing - but as you approach you notice the door is ajar, the unexpected sound of alt rock music greeting your ears. You knock lightly on the doorframe as you poke your head into the office. Seungkwan, seated behind the large mahogany desk, seemingly absorbed in something on his laptop, looks up - you’ve clearly caught him a bit off guard.

“Hi, sorry - I’m a little early,” you apologize.

His face lights up in a warm smile. “No, uh - that’s alright!” he replies cheerfully. “Go ahead, take a seat,” he says as he gestures to the couch. 

You plop your backpack down on the ground and remove your coat, carefully tucking your skirt (a rare choice of clothing for you, but you figured fuck it, why not) under yourself as you take a seat on the comfy sofa. Seungkwan turns the music down to a faintly audible volume and rises from his desk chair, making his way over to you. You expected him to sit in the armchair across from you, but he comes and joins you on the couch instead. You can practically hear the rapid thumpthumpthumpthump of your heartbeat. 

“So, tell me about your essay,” he starts. His eyes linger on yours.  “What did you have questions about?”

Nonchalantly taking a deep breath, you take out your laptop and open it, pulling up your draft file. You basically had your paper planned out already, but you made up some questions to ask so as not to give away the fact that you literally had no academic reason to be here. You begin to explain your first question, which turns out to be an extremely difficult feat with him not only sitting so close to you, but also gazing at you softly, listening intently. You decide to avoid eye contact almost entirely. 

You chat about your essay topic for what feels like an eternity (you glance at the clock on your computer - it’s been 14 minutes). You’re in the middle of discussing the second point of your thesis when he interjects.

“Y/n, why are you really here?”

You feel the blood drain from your face. He’s onto me. It’s over.

“It’s very clear that you understand the book perfectly well. I really don’t think you need my help.”

You slowly look up at him, hesitating before opening your mouth to try and bullshit some response, but nothing comes out. 

“You know, I don’t normally schedule one-on-one office hours with students outside of my usual times.”

The blood comes rushing back to your cheeks. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“I’msosorry,” you blurt out. “I really wasn’t trying to waste your time I-”

“That’s not what I mean, y/n.”

You freeze. Does he mean…

Before you can even finish that thought he kisses you.

His hand cradles your face gently, drawing you closer to him as he presses his lips onto yours, electricity pulsing through your entire body - all you can think about is the way his lips feel, the way he softly brushes your cheek with his thumb, the way you want to throw your laptop across the room and throw yourself onto him so you can kiss him even more. 

As if he read your mind, he reaches down (still kissing you) and closes your laptop, picking it up and setting it aside carefully. You lap now vacant, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his, his soft kiss becoming more fervent. Your hand rests on his chest as you kiss him back - you feel the energy of his heart beating, at the same pace as yours, through the cozy sweater he has on. After several seconds (minutes? hours?) his lips part from yours, the sudden lack of sensation leaving you immediately longing for more; they linger mere inches from your face as your eyes meet his sensuous gaze. 

“Just one second,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan gets up and swiftly shuts the door - you hear the deep, satisfying thunk of the old door closing, followed by the subtle click of the lock. He then walks over to the desk to turn the music up to a decent volume before making his way back over to the couch. He barely resumes his seat before grasping onto you desperately, his face buried as he begins to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh at the unexpected sensation, wrapping your arms around his torso and drawing him in even tighter. His large hands caress your back as if trying to commit your shape to memory, as your hand slowly makes its way down his side - stopping when you reach his belt, resting on the waistline of his jeans which are very obviously becoming tighter by the second. 

You hesitate at first, but eventually your hand continues downward; Seungkwan sharply inhales as it lands on his growing bulge, his body tensing up against yours. He pulls his face from the crook of your neck, his lips immediately finding yours again, indulging in another kiss as he pulls you over onto his lap. You begin making out with him, your hand holding his warm, flushed cheek; your core, now exposed aside from the barrier of your underwear, presses against the hardness in his pants, causing soft moans to escape from the both of you. Before long, your hips begin to rock back and forth, grinding on his clothed cock - lightly at first, but with increasing intensity. You break away from his kiss; he looks at you, his eyelids heavy.

“Y/n…” he breathes out as he starts to kiss you again, “you don’t know how… wanted you so bad…”

“Me too,” you mutter.

He slides his hand under your skirt, finding your clit and beginning to circle it gently through your soaked underwear, causing you to whine softly.

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet,” he says in a low, husky voice, his fingertips increasing their pace against the sensitive bud. He then slips his finger under the hem of your panties, pulling them aside to expose your already-swollen cunt, the sharpness of the cool air hitting its wetness. You cry out as he slides one finger into you, followed by another, his thumb continuing to caress your clit. Your hips begin to rock again, fucking yourself against his perfectly-curled fingers that are hitting you in all the right spots, your speed quickly increasing with the overwhelming pleasure that has taken over your entire body. You feel it welling in your stomach, your orgasm growing nearer with each movement. You’re about to lose it when he slows your pace, looking at you with lust-filled eyes - you can tell what it is he wants. 

You reach down and undo his belt, unfastening his button and drawing down the zipper. His jeans out of the way, you pull the band of his underwear down, freeing his hardened cock - he lets out a groan as you begin to stroke its length. Precum has already begun to form, your fingers taking the wetness and gliding it over the head. 

“Please… wanna fuck you so bad…” He’s practically whimpering at this point.

You slide your pussy up and down his length a few times, causing him to recline his head against the couch as he breathes heavily. Finally you take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and lowering yourself onto him, crying out at the sudden sensation of fullness. He groans as you slowly begin to ride him, his length hitting you in the perfect spot; you have to bite your lip to control yourself from becoming too loud - it feels even better than you’d ever imagined.

You begin to pick up the pace, bouncing on his cock as the sensation in your stomach begins to build again, even stronger now with him inside you. Your cries involuntarily become louder, prompting him to place his other hand over your mouth.

“Shhh, baby - don’t want anyone to hear us.”

You nod, tears welling in your eyes.

His soft grunts become more frequent - you can tell he’s getting close. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as you’re also nearing orgasm. He drops his hand from your mouth so he can grab onto your hips with both hands, holding you tight as he thrusts into you, full of vigor. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he says, his voice low and gruff.

“Want you to cum in me,” you reply breathily. He nods eagerly. You’re nearly there yourself. You cling to his face, giving him one more kiss before you can’t hold it in any longer.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you manage to get out before the white-hot sensation takes over your whole body. You cry out, your walls clenching around him, immediately sending him over the edge - his cock pulses as you feel his cum release inside you. 

As you come down from your high your body melts into his as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. He plants a few soft kisses on your cheek as you sink into him, his cock still inside you. You lay there peacefully for an unknown amount of minutes, the rock music still playing in the background as he rubs your back gently. Eventually you sit up, pressing your nose against his.

“Does this mean I get an A?” you ask jokingly.

He laughs, his nose crinkling as he smiles. “You were going to get one anyway, I assure you the fact that I just had the best sex of my life will have no impact on your grade.”

You break out into laughter. You pause, then ask hesitantly, “Soooo, what does this mean?”

His brown eyes rest on yours. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to figure that out later,” he says pragmatically. A slight tinge of sadness comes across your face, but before you can say anything he continues.

“How does tonight over dinner sound?”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile back at him. 

“I think that sounds perfect.”

[end]

[leclucklerc]

A Fool's Flowers MV1 - Oneshot

Pairings: Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: She's a fool in love. Too in love and way too enraptured in her own romantic delusion to see the signs.

Words: 6.2K

Materlist

“So, university in Monaco,” started your mom. “You really didn’t meet anyone during your time there?”

Y/n laughed, tone light and airy as you continue to mix the cake powder on her hand. “I met many people you know,” she said, a bit teasing. “Many friends, many acquaintances.”

She hoped the woman doesn’t realize the tensioning of her shoulder. Or how her words waver a bit at the start. She hopes, she doesn’t realize the obvious sign of nervousness and fear that started to creep into her throat. 

Slowly but surely. As if, it’s going to chock her silent.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” replied the older woman as she raised her eyebrow. Her hands still busy with the batter in front of her. Kneading it firmly.

“Why?” asked the younger, a bit teasing. “A bit sudden don’t you think?”

Truthfully, this question had been something that she dreaded to hear when she decided to move back to her parents house after her short stint in Monaco. That her mother – who’s lately been wanting more grandkids after seeing her older sister second child – will surely notice that there’s something wrong with her.

The older woman huffed. “Well, I just can’t wait for you to bring home a boy,” she replied wistfully. “How about one of your guy friends? Max? he seems cute.”

It was such a sudden name drop that you immediately froze on spot. Brain going thousands kilometrets an hour to process that statement.

“Max?” you said, a bit shaky and hoped your mom didn’t catch it. “No, we’re just friends.”

“You never talked about him anymore,” prodeed her mom. “You used to go on and on about Max this and Max that. Though you’ve been surprisingly silent about him lately.”

Ah, she thought. How to put his delicately.

“We’re fighting, currently,” she managed to say. “Nothing serious.”

“Hmm..” hummed the woman. “The both of you look cute, I think.”

Yes, she wants to reply.

Yes, they look cute together.

Attending a university in Monaco had never been in y/n’s plan.

Maybe it’s because she had grown up in a big city all her life, making her childhood home pretty accessible to many universities without her needing to even move out. Maybe it’s because she had lived her life here, all of her family and friends resided in the residential area around her house.

Maybe it’s just for the simple fact that y/n doesn’t want anything to change. Too afraid to disturb this comfortable rhythm that she called her life.

Though everything changed when she visited Monaco for the first time.

There’s just something different about the small country. The beautiful streets and the warm feeling that the country exudes. The flowers that bloom on the side of the street and the busy shore full of yachts and private party. The close-knit community that blended perfectly with the wealthy extravaganza that the country is known for. 

It was something that y/n had never seen before.

It was something, that made y/n fell in love with the country.

She throws all of her plan sideways and decided to attend a university there. Her parents had objected, of course, considering she used to plan to go to Oxford or other reputable universities all around the world. But y/n had always been a bit too headstrong. A bit too caught up in her own want and needs.

It really was not long before she began packing and her life in Monaco starts.

The change of scenery is a good thing for her. She started meeting more and more people. She began opening her heart, letting more and more people inside of her orbit.

She never thought that making friends and spening time with them could be so enjoyable. After all, as an introverted at heart, she was used to have a small friend circle. But there’s must be something in Monaco’s air. Something that made her a bit wild and uncontrollable. Something that made her want to live her life unlike before.

The nightlife in Monaco is always bustling.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that majority of the country consisted of too rich person with too many time on their hand. Maybe it’s due to the fact that the casinos are open all night. Or maybe it’s just for the simple fact that people in Monaco can enjoy their nightlife better than any other countries.

Whatever the reason is, y/n always enjoy her trip to the club with her friends.

Tonight, was such night. One of her friends had just gone through a terrible breakup, making their whole friend group mission to be absolutely hammered at the club.

Y/n knows she was pretty. She knows that there are couple of guys that wants to talk to her every time she went to a club. Tonight though-

“He’s staring at you,” murmured her friend, a teasing grin already on her lips as she gulped down from her glass. “Ever since you arrived here.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Which one?” asked y/n, discreetly looking around.

“The cute one,” said her friend as she nudged her chin softly towards one corner of the club. “Blond, blue eyes, white shirt.”

It took y/n a couple of second to locate the man that her friend mentioned. Though, the moment, she saw him, she felt her world stopped for a bit.

Tall, blond, blue eyes. A cute face and a nice body.

Her type.

“You are sure he’s been staring at me?” she whispered out, averting her gaze once again to not make it to obvioys that she’s been ogling him. “He’s cute.”

“I know,” giggled her friend. “Definitely your type.”

Y/n was about to answer when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey,”

She turned, eyes meeting blue ones. Oh, she thought, a bit dazed. It’s the cute guy.

The lighting at the club is a bit dim and the music is so loud that it hurts her heart a bit. Though she swears when the man let out a huge grin, her world cleared up a bit. It was as if the both of them are not in the middle of a loud and bustling club. It was as if that they’re not standing in the midst of sweaty and drunk bodies.

It was as if, this meeting had been decided by fate.

“I’m Max,” he said, smile almost blinding.

Y/n felt tongue tied as she stared at him.

She really can’t suppress the smile blooming on her face too. “Y/n” replied the girl. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Really?” pressed on her mother once again. “No cute boys that gives you flower or anything?” 

Y/n laughed at that. “Who still gives flower now? That’s so old school mom!”

Y/n stared at the bouquet of flowers in front of her.

The grin that appeared on her face must’ve looked a bit silly and dumb. Though, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“You brought me flowers,” she breathed out, taking the bouquet from the man in front of her.

“I did,” replied Max. “I didn’t know what your favorite flowers are, but I hope you like this.”

It’s roses. A classic and safe choice for a first date. And yet, Y/n found herself liking it way too much.

“I love it,” she said, marveling the flowers with a large smile. “You’re a gentleman aren’t you?”

Max laughed at that, hand curling around her waist as he guided her outside of her apartment. “I try,” he said. “Though with how beautiful you look tonight, I don’t think I can.”

It’s such a cheesy thing to say that it made her broke out into a laugh. “I don’t give kisses in first dates, Verstappen,” she said, cradling the flower close to her chest. “It’s my dating policy.”

The man hummed at that. “Well, there’s a first for everything I guess?”

“Unbelievable,” she giggled. “The date should be exceptional then.”

Their first date was exceptional indeed. 

Max seemed to have done some research because everything about their first date had been perfect. From the dinner that they shared to the walk that they did across Monaco’s harbor. Everything about that night had been so unbelievably romantic that she could swoon at the mere thought of it.

It was a perfect first date. Something that came out of a romance novel. Something that she had imagined to herself during her period of girlhood. Still too young to have a romance of her own and yet never stopped daydreaming about prince charming and princesses.

Tonight, she felt like a princess and Max is her very own prince charming.

“I look like a fool,” laughed y/n as Max escorted her towards her door when their date is ending.

“Believe me schat, no fool look as beautiful as you,” said Max with a grin.

“No, no, I mean,” she started. “I look like a fool because despite all of my declaration earlier about my no kissing policy in a first date, I think, I really want to kiss you right now.”

Y/n felt warm after that, mouth still smiling like a lovesick fool as she stared at Max’s blue eyes.

“Yeah?” breathed out Max as he leaned closer. “Then I must’ve been a fool too?”

Their face is so close that she could feel their breath mingling with each other. “Why?” she asked.

Blue eyes stared at her and y/n felt as if she was going to drown in them. As if, the entire galaxy is in there and she wants nothing but to gaze it all eternity.

“Because I want to kiss you too.”

Their lips met each other for the first time that day.

“I really don’t believe you,” sighed the woman. “How can you stay single throughout university?”

“What can I say?” laughed y/n, humor evident on her tone. “No one wants me.”

“But you’re a really beautiful girl-“

“You’re beautiful,” breathed out Max, eyes unblinking.

Y/n giggled, mocked curtsying towards the man in front of her who let out a burst of laugh at that. “You think so?” she said, eyes crinkling from how wide her smile is. The dark dress she’s wearing made an amazing contrast on her skin, hugging her figure at the right place.

She looks beautiful. Almost divine even.

“I know so,” said the man as he curled an arm around her waist. It’s a tight gripped. As if he doesn’t want to let go of her. “I don’t want anyone to see you like this.”

“We’re going to be late,” she replied simply, hand goes towards around his neck as she cuddled closer towards him. “I don’t want to make Daniel waiting.”

“Daniel can wait all night long,” grumbled Max.

The girl let out a laugh at that, releasing her hold. “Come on, Romeo,” she said, dragging the man towards the door. “We have a dinner to catch.”

“-And a charming girl!”

“She’s a charming one, isn’t she?”

Y/n stopped, hiding herself behind a pillar.

A few moments ago, she had left the table to go to the bathroom to do some touch ups, leaving Max, Daniel, and Heidi on the table.

She didn’t expect that she will accidentally eavesdrop their conversation.

“I know,” replied the dutch, making Daniel grin wider.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” murmured Heidi as she leaned towards Daniel closer. “The both of us knows you when you’re still a teen and we’ve never seen you looking so…”

“In love,” continued Daniel without missing a beat. “I never saw you so infatuated with someone before.”

Her heart hammered wildly inside her chest.

Love?

… Love???

“I think so,” replied Max, much to her surprise. “I know that we started dating not too long ago, but really, I think she’s the one.”

Daniel let out a loud laugh at that as he pat Max’s back violently. She could hear the teasing that the Australian gave Max and how the younger male let out a chuckle. They continue to talk after that, though Y/n doesn’t even bother to listen.

After all, she’s a flustered mess there behind the pillar.

She could hear the blood rushing towards her face and how her heart began to beat loudly on her ears. She knows that her relationship with Max is good. More than good in fact. It was as if she had met her soulmate in the form of Max Verstappen.

They have many shared interest with each other. Max had always managed to make her laugh and she too, had always managed to make him laugh. She felt comfort every time she goes with Max.

As if, the man that she now called her boyfriend, is the very man that the universe had shaped specifically for her.

But love?

My,

Oh my.

She could feel more and more blood rushing towards her face.

Is she, in love with Max Verstappen?

(Yes)

It should scare her a bit how fast she knows the answer to that question.

“Really, I can’t understand why you don’t have any boyfriend,” lamented the older woman dramatically.

“Maybe it’s my personality,” laughed the younger. “I think I have a really bad personality.”

“Of course not,” replied her mom. “You’re an angel, darling. Always willing to listen to everyone problem and make it your mission to solve it.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” admitted Max once upon a time. The both of them sat on the floor right in front of the sofa. The tv in front of them is playing a movie that they don’t even bother to watch at this point.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” answered y/n immediately. “You’re perfect.”

“No, I’m not,” said Max as he leaned towards her. His weight is a comforting presence next to her. “I just- I don’t think I should be doing what I’m doing.”

Y/n stared at him, a bit shocked.

After all, this is Max Verstappen. Formula One worl champion. A prodigy of the sport. The very man that had dominated the track with his style of driving. Max had always looks confident and sure, especially if it relates to Formula One.

He had started driving an F1 car before he have a normal driving license! He had been the youngest world champion in the history of Formula One! He had been what many dubbed as a once in many years talent.

And he too, is a man who’s questioning about his position in Formula One.

“What made you say that?” she asked softly as one of her hand began caressing his hair. She had learnt that Max likes something like this. The gentle touches.

“I just think… I think my path in Formula One is not my decision,” he said. “It was just always there, you know? My dad is an F1 driver, and ever since I was small, he had always encouraged me to take on this path… So I just thought that maybe in actuality, I don’t even like to drive. But considering it’s the only thing that I ever know i…”

“Because you think that F1 is the only think you ever know, it made you love the sport?” finished Y/n.

Max was silent a bit before that before he let out a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe like that.”

“Have you ever feel forced every time you drive?” asked Y/n. “Have you ever feel that you don’t want to drive?”

“No,” replied Max. “No, I don’t.”

Y/n let out a hum at that. “Don’t you think that’s enough of an answer?” asked the female with a soft chuckle. 

The female pondered about that for a bit. There’s a silence between the two of them before he let out a sigh. “Maybe it is,” he murmured. “But i… Schat, people doesn’t even like me there.”

Ah, she realized.

Max, despite his tough demeanor and aloof personality, is a bit of a soft heart.

He thinks way too much about everything. About himself and about people around him. To people that doesn’t know him, they would never guessed that Max is the type of person that actually listens. That he’s the type of person that will think way too deeply about people reaction of thoughts about him.

It was something that she tried to change about him. 

“Babe, you are welcome, people doesn’t hate you, especially F1 fans,” said the female softly.

She could hear the scoff that he let out. 

“No, no, no, you have to believe me,” she said, moving her posture so that she could see straight to his eyes. “You have to believe me, no one dislike you. You are an amazing driver, and moreso, an amazing man. People who hates you must’ve been crazy.”

Max let out a bitter chuckle at that. “There must’ve been a lot of crazy people in the world then?”

“Well, we do live in a crazy world,” she replied. “But that’s not the point. Babe, I really don’t want you to question your place in Formula One just because there are people who doesn’t like you. You’re talented. You love F1. Don’t you think that’s enough of a reason for you to be welcome in F1?”

“Maybe,” answered Max. “It’s just… never mind. I- I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

“No, no, no, let’s talk, okay?” said Y/n. “If… if you really think that there’s may be something out there that you like more than F1… do you want to try it out?”

The male stared at her. “Try it out?”

“Yes, let’s try to find you a hobby,” said the female. “We could sign up to short classes or maybe try something online. You know, to try and find something that you might like.”

Max stared at her as silence bestowed between the two of them.

“A shop down the street will actually have a pottery class next Wednesday, I could sign us up. Or maybe you like to try new sport? I heard padel tennis is popular these days? Or we could-“

She stopped her rambling when she felt Max’s lips on hers. He didn’t stop kissing her until he hovered on top of her as the both of them parted their lips to gasped for breath.

“Max?” she breathed out, hand reaching upwards.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he closed their distance once again. “I just want to say thank you.”

There’s a bouquet of roses on her kitchen counter.

Y/n reached out to it almost immediately, giddy and heart hammering loudly.

“Please,” replied the female. “I know you’re my mom, but you can’t overpraise me like that.”

The older woman laughed at that. “I’m not overpraising you!” exclaimed the woman with a good humor. “You’re a beautiful and smart girl, I remember your first piano recital as if it was yesterday.”

“Mom,” she whined out. “I was like, six, when I did that recital!”

“Oh, but you played it so beautifully!”

“You can play the piano?”

Y/n grinned. “Took lessons when I was a kid and I guess it stuck,” she replied, taking his hand and drag him to sit next to her in the piano chair. It’s a snug fit, but the laughter that the both of them shared made as if they’re sitting in the comfiest chair in the world.

She guided his hand towards the black and white keys, making him touch some of it.

“Sorry, schat, I’m afraid my only talent is driving a car,” said Max, letting out a laugh as she continued to make him press some of the keys. 

“I can see that,” replied the female cheekily. “Do you want to hear me play?”

Max hummed as he rested his head on her shoulder. She began playing, fingertips touching every keys as if it was her old friend. Her mind began to wander to the countless recitals that she had attended when she was a kid.

Her mom had been convinced that she’s the next Mozart in the making. That her musical talent will soon take over the world.

Though, the woman had to hide her disappointment when Y/n doesn’t become too interested to play piano professionally. Now it just become a hobby to her. Or a good way to impress someone at a party.

Max lightly hummed as she continued to play the instrument next to him. His hand had found itself wrapped around her waist as the soft sound of her playing slowly lulled him to dreamland.

Y/n doesn’t know how much time passed, the only thing that she knows was when she finished the piece, the man besides her had been sound asleep. The fond smile that crept into her face made the moment a bit more tender.

“You sound as if you regret letting me to stop playing the piano,” teased the younger female as she bumped her shoulder to her. 

Her mother shook her head at that. “I probably would’ve become more regretful if you’re a bad student, but you’re such a good student!”

Y/n gave Max a small kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered out. “I really want to come to the race, but you know I have exams coming.”

“It’s okay,” answered Max as he wrapped an arm around her. He nuzzled his face towards the crook of her neck, staying in that position for some time before he looked up towards her. “I know how important it is for you.”

The female bit her lips.

Truthfully, she really wants to go and support Max. After all, racing is his lifeline. It’s practically already on his blood. All his life, it had always been racing and racing for him. She really wants to go there and support him in what he loves.

But alas, her professor is a jerk.

“I’ll come during the Monaco racing calendar,” she said, regretfully. “I’ll… I’ll check my classes schedule to see if I can sneak one or two travel in between to see you race.”

The joy that appeared on Max’s face made her a bit giddy.

“You will really do that?” asked the male.

“Of course,” she said, cradling her face. “I want to support you in your element you know,” at this, a smile crept into her face. “So you’re better leading the championship when I come, okay?”

Max laughed at that. “I will,” he said. “I already can’t wait.”

The kiss that they shared before Max left is way too warm and tender. Y/n can’t help the giddiness and the love that’s threatening to burst from her chest.

“Welcome back,” she greeted him with a kiss. “I saw the race live, congratulations on the win.”

“Thank you,” he said, hugging her tightly. “I passed by a florist earlier so I just thought-“

Y/n can’t contain the giddy grin that appear on her face at the sight of the fresh bouquet of roses.

Good grades had always been the norm for her. It always come easily, good grades and praised from the people around her.

She knows that she’s someone with a good head on her shoulder. That she will always be able to think rationally and logically. That she will never let her emotion influenced her decision on anything. Always doing something logical and rational. That’s why, y/n never thinks that she’s a fool.

But alas, often times, love will make you a fool.

“What is this?” asked the female, hand shakily holding her phone. “Max, what is this?”

Max doesn’t even meet her eyes.For her, it’s enough of a confirmation.

On her phone is a video that’s clearly being taken in the middle of a nightclub. It’s loud and the lighting is a bit bad, making the numerous people inside the place a bit hazy to see through the phone screen. Though, y/n will never mistake the man dancing in the video.

It’s Max. Her boyfriend.

It’s Max who’s in the middle of the dance floor. Dancing and sloppily making out with another girl that’s not her.

“Max!” she said, voice raising. She ignores the tinge of nervousness that appeared inside of her. After all, she had never raised her voice like that towards anyone before. “Max, answer me- what- what is this!?”

“Y/n” said Max, finally opening his mouth. He reached towards her hand, intertwining their fingers together. She really wants to slap it away. To turn her back from those blue eyes of his that never fail to make her knees weak. “Baby, please, I- I was drunk.”

Drunk? 

He was drunk?

Why is he saying it as if that simple act justify him cheating on her? Y/n had been drunk plenty of time before. But she had never-

She had never even thought to make out with another man when she has a boyfriend. She had never thought to cheat on her significant other even when she had been batshit drunk.

“Why are you saying it like that?” she asked, voice shaky. “So what if you’re drunk? That doesn’t even explain anything!”

“I don’t remember anything about that night,” replied Max immediately. “I- I must’ve thought it was you!”

Does he think she’s a fool? 

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she grits out. “I’ve been drunk before Max and I never even thought to cheat on you!”

“Well I probably wouldn’t have done that if our relationship is not like this!”

The sudden yell from the man in front of her made her flinch a bit. Her eyes stared at Max’s blue ones as the man too, continue to stare at her. There’s a sudden silence between the two of them as Y/n try to process what the man had just said to her.

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Our relationship,” started the man as he sat on the sofa, dragging her to sit besides him, knees touching. “I- you know my job demand a lot of things from me,” he continued, hand flying towards his hair in frustration. "It's been hard, every races, especially when I don’t have my own girlfriend to support me.”

“You know why I can’t,” the female protested immediately. “I have university, classes, my own life- i- I just can’t drop everything for you!”

“But other drivers girlfriend did that!” said Max, turning his attention back to her. He sighed in frustration before he slumped back towards the sofa. “All the other drivers significant others are in the paddock constantly and is supporting them throughout the season, I just think that I should’ve been nice if my own girlfriend can come and support me in one of my races!”

And oh.

Oh.

Max… had been comparing himself with the other drivers. That he saw other drivers to have a working support system around him and him, not having any.

She knows how deeply rooted insecurity had ingrained itself inside of the male heart. That from he was a child, he was always comparing and comparing himself with people around him. That he’s weak with that.

Maybe,

Maybe, just maybe.

There’s a reason why he did what he did.

Was he lonely?

Was he craving for her presence? Does he really need her support that much?

(She ignores the fact that she knows that Max’s parents and sisters often come to the races too. She ignores the fact, that his very own best friend is a F1 driver too. That Red Bull had become his family. That he has a whole support system in the paddock besides her. That even without her, there will always be someone supporting him.)

Her anger and the feeling of being betrayed slowly seeped away as regret and sorrow made its way up. Max seems to notice too as the hold that he has over her hand tightened.

“I’m sorry,” said Max, bringing her closer for an embrace. “I really missed you and i- I thought that she was you.”

The female in the video does have the same hair color as her. Maybe he missing her that bad back then. That’s why he did what he did.

“I’m sorry too,” said y/n, enveloping her arm around his neck. “I- I should’ve supported you more.”

Y/n had never thought she’s a fool.

She’s a woman with a good head on her shoulder. She’s a woman with vast knowledge and high education. She’s a woman who always think rationally and logically. Emotion had never affected her decision.

But that decision, is the start of her foolery.

“I- I forgive you,” muttered the woman. “Just- please make sure you will never do that again.”

At that, the smile that Max let out brightened up her world just a bit.

“I promise,” answered the man as he leaned towards her for a kiss.

As they sat there, lips touching with each other, Y/n can’t help the nagging feeling that made her felt as if she’s the clown of this story

“Yes,” she muttered softly. “I am… a good student.”

There’s a bouquet of roses on her kitchen counter. 

Y/n stared at it silently.

“But I think, I’m a fool,” continue the girl as the put the cake on the oven.

Her mother stared at her. 

“Dear,” she started, hand reaching towards her. Her touch is soft and warm. It’s always welcoming. Something that she had always fall into when she was a child. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

There’s so many things that she’s not telling her and she wants nothing but to tell her all of those things.

All of those months full of agony and tears. All of those sleepless night and insecurity.

Everything that she had felt these past few months, she wants to tell it all to the older woman.

But no.

She didn’t.

She decided long ago, that these emotions- this feelings that she had buried inside of her heart should never be uttered out loud. That the only closure that she will ever have, is by burying all of these messy emotions deep inside of her heart.

Not opening her heart anymore. Not letting anyone in.

A fool.

A girl, with nothing but a clown costume.

Well, y/n is a fool indeed.

There’s a bouquet of roses on her kitchen. Sitting there unmoving. The previous bouquet had not even wilted yet. She felt a bit sick at the mere thought of it.

Roses after roses.

Tears after tears.

She should’ve known that this relationship would never last. That this blissful feeling and tender care that they share with each other is not something that will last forever.

A famous formula one superstar like him with a normal university student like her.

How laughable.

Y/n felt stupid that she actually thought that this relationship will last.

Because it’s not.

“You said you won’t do it again,” she said, eyes staring at her plate intently. Not wanting to see the man sitting in front of her.

How many times is it now? She doesn’t even bother to count.

It was always like this. Every time she saw him with another girl – always though social media, or through a friend. Never had it been from Max himself. There will always be a bouquet of roses on her kitchen. As if, those roses are enough.

As if, those roses are enough for her to forgive him.

(It did.)

Max shifted, “You have to believe me,” he said, hand reaching towards her own. Though, she immediately flinched, retreating. The male seems to have noticed it too, as he too, froze up on his spot.

“Schat,” he called out, tone pleading. “You have to believe me. I- it was not my intention to touch her like that.”

“And yet you still did,” replied the female, curling herself into a ball. It was a bit dangerous position considering she’s sitting on their dining room chair. Though, she really can’t help it. She wants to disappear. To stop this hurtful feelings that’s threatening to overflow.

She hates this so so much.

“I was drunk!” exclaimed Max as his tone went higher and higher. “I thought she was you- that’s why I was so receptive!”

There was something on his tone that sounds almost frantic. As if he’s desperately trying to put everything together. To make this thing between the two of them works. Max too seems to realize as he stood up, circling the dining table so he could stood by her side.

Y/n could feel his hands curling around her shoulder. “I thought it was you and I was missing you really badly because we haven’t met each other in weeks,” he said, face so close to hers as his hands scrambling to wipe of something from her face.

Oh.

Oh.

She’s crying. She didn’t even realize that.

“I miss you so much, that’s why I went with her to the hotel and-“

And that really is the thing that made y/n snap. 

Because the way he said this, the way he’s trying to direct this conversation, was as if he was going to blame her about this mess of their relationship. As if, him cheating was her fault. As if, him sleeping with another girl is her fault.

She hates it so much she wants it to end.

The last string, finally broke.

She should’ve known that this relationship of theirs is not something that could last forever. After all, the both of them led such a different life with each other. 

Too many differences.

Too many hurdles.

Back then, she thought that she could face all of it. All of those hurdles and problems. She used to believe that both Max and her could resolve it. That they could triumph each one easily.

But now?

She’s far too tired.

She’s too tired to hang around this relationship of theirs. Too tired of the countless sleepless nights and all the overthinking that she did. Too tired to scroll through her social media only to see her with different girl each time. Too tired, to put her expectation to this man before her.

Y/n is not a fool. 

She doesn’t want to be a clown anymore.

And so, this is the end. The end of everything that they had built. That this sacred commitment between the two of them is nothing but a thorn on her side.

“I’m tired,” the family let out, eyes still streaming with tears as she stared at Max’s blue eyes. Blue eyes that used to make her weak on the knees. The blue eyes that never fail to make her heart race.

Though this time, she felt empty as she stared at those blue eyes of his.

“I’m tired, Max,” she repeated once more. “Let’s end this.”

Y/n moved back to her parents’ house not long after that. Transferring university to that of her country. Leaving all the memories that she had made in Monaco in that country.

There are many things that she wants to left there. Too many things.

(They didn’t even managed to say I love you yet. Those simple words that remained inside her heart.)

And as she landed back on her home country, eyes staring at the plane that had taken her from Monaco, she can’t help the small smile that appeared on her face.

Yes, this is a new start for her.

She’s tired of being a fool.

“There are many things that I want to say,” started the younger as she stared at the older woman with a bittersweet smile on her face. “But I think- I think I’m still not ready for it.”

Her mother hummed at that. “Of course,” she muttered, hand enveloping her in a hug. It’s warm and it reminded her so much of her childhood. She wants to stay like this forever. Enveloped in her mother embrace forever. “You can always tell me later. I’m always here, remember?”

“Yeah,” y/n said as she released her embrace. “Yeah, I know.”

That answer seems to have brightened her mother up a bit. “Well okay then, enough of the depressing talk!” she said with a clap of her hands. “Tomorrow is a big day for us so-“

What her mother was going to say was interrupted by the loud sound of a ringing bell.

Both female exchanged glances with each other, eyebrow raising. “We’re having guest?” ask y/n.

“I doubt s,” said her mom. “Will you be a dear and open the door? I’m going to call for your dad.” She muttered out before she’s gone to call for the man.

Y/n shrugged, not seeing any problem with that as she walked towards the front door not expecting anything. After that shocking and a bit emotional talk with her mom, she’s not in the mood to entertain any guest today. 

Maybe it could be a mailman? Doubt so.

Her sister? No, she’s on a vacation to Greece.

Then who could possibly be ringing their door?

She opened her door, not expecting anything, only to found herself rooted on her spot as she stared at the sight before her. Because there he stood, blond hair, blue eyes, and white shirt. Somehow, her heart started to betray her and it began hammering wildly inside her chest.

“Hey,” said Max Verstappen, standing in front of her door with a bouquet of roses on his hand.

Ah, thought y/n.

Maybe she is a fool after all.

[iheartnerdz]

🍰 Baker!Miguel O’Hara x reader (headcannons)

Content warning: SFW, grumpy miguel, sunshine reader, fluff ♡

A/N: I’ve been thinking about this for a few days! Gender neutral! <3

Slightly proofread/edited (6.6.24)

Miguel’s day starts at 4 am

Always in a crisp, white apron and rolled up sleeves (ahh!)

Miguel despises flirtation and has a reputation for being brusque with customers who try to woo him

His favorite cake flavor is definitely chocolate and anything caramel

I picture you working at a travel agency (get it? 😜)

You go to the bakery that your co-worker, Miles, has recommended

You go in to buy a birthday cake for your co-worker, Cassie

Very quiet and calm first interaction with Miguel

As you’re about to leave, Peter B runs after you, urging you to ask Miguel for a date in exchange for a lifetime supply of sweets from the bakery

You’re hesitant, but c’mon, lifetime supply of baked goods? Who can pass that up?! So, you agree, not knowing it would be a challenge

You go back in the bakery and ask Miguel on a date

He frowns slightly and replies curtly, dismissing the request with a nonchalant, “I’m not interested” (ouch)

You’re not giving up

“LIFETIME SUPPLY OF SWEETS” you remind yourself

You visit the bakery more frequently, trying different approaches to engage Miguel in conversation about his baking

Over time, Miguel starts to notice your genuine interest in his craft rather than just trying to flirt

This piques his interest (😏)

You make small talk about various travel destinations, sometimes bringing Miguel exotic ingredients from different places, which starts to break the ice

Miguel begins to share small details about his baking process and personal stories, slowly warming up to your easy-going nature

After numerous visits and many conversations, Miguel finally agrees to a casual coffee date, more out of curiosity than anything else

The date is surprisingly enjoyable for both. Miguel finds your relaxed nature refreshing, while you discover Miguel’s hidden softer side (aww)

You continue to visit the bakery, and Miguel, though still reserved, starts looking forward to these interactions

This is definitely a slow-burn

Miguel appreciates your persistence and genuine interest, while you enjoy uncovering Miguel’s layers (emotionally, guys 🙂‍↔️)

Miguel starts teaching you how to bake, leading to laughter and a deeper connection

True to Peter’s promise, you start receiving a steady supply of sweets from the bakery, each treat more delicious than the last

But what if Peter is sneaking you these sweets behind Miguel’s back

And what if one day, Miguel sees you picking up a cake and you don’t pay

“Peter, did they forget to pay?”

Bonus: You and Miles go to the bakery on your guys’ lunch break. Gwen is helping at the register, and Miles is smitten (🤭)

Let me know if y’all want a part 2! 💝 Might keep this as SFW/fluff, we’ll see!

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw - minors/ageless dni I will block you. yami x f!noble reader. cw it is implied that reader is a virgin, slight age/experience gap though reader is in her 20s, mentions of marriage. thigh riding. reader is wearing a nightgown. | divider thanks to @cafekitsune, wc 1.1k

you can find more of these two here and here

“Husbands do this for their wives?”

There’s something exceptionally enticing about you to Yami right now.

You’re straddling his thighs but unmoving, the collar frilly nightgown you insist upon wearing for these dalliances pulled below the fullness of your tits and the skirt up over your belly button, bunched up in the middle of your torso. The lace neckline frames them perfectly and he reaches to playfully and gently tap one of them with his index finger, causing them both to jiggle. The expression on your face is one of soft bewilderment, features he noticed were pretty the first time he saw you twisted into something he’d rather see expressing your enjoyment.

“Hell if I know but I’m doing it for you, aren’t I?”

His smugness is nearly palpable. He glances at you, smirking. You scoff, cheeks warming. Despite your expression, the sheer force of whatever is drawing you toward this man feels too strong for you to even feign annoyance or disgust toward his attitude. He is doing you a favor, after all, by preparing you to be a good little wife for whoever will eventually wear the title.

You may be comfortable with the arrangement though Yami isn’t so sure he is when he thinks about it. Leaving you for some noble pretty boy seems like a waste of a good woman, someone naive but intelligent slowly rotting in the background of her husband's life.

But if that’s the life you want, it’s none of his business.

His hands fall to your hips and grasp them firmly, soft flesh spilling out between his fingers. Before he can think to stop them, his hands reflectively begin massaging your hips, slowly dragging you over his leg. The gossamer moan that leaves you draws his eyes to your face, heavily lidded eyes drinking in the half open state of your mouth and the flutter of your lashes when your eyes close. The motion is repeated, a slow back and forth grind over a clothed thigh, and you whimper this time.

“Tell me if you like it.”

The reminder that he likes to hear you helps you feel a bit more confident. You trap your lower lip between your teeth, eyes opening enough to look at him, and nod.

“Feels good but I want more.” Yami chuckles at you, big hands overwhelming your senses between the soft kneading and intentional way he holds them. “Don’t start getting greedy, kid. You’re still learning.”

Your needy walls throb embarrassingly in response to the nickname, the anticipation of eventual release sending sparks to your nerve endings, sodden panties clinging to your labia. Every sensation is heightened for you right now and you can’t quite put your finger on why. Glancing into his eyes you lean forward, pressing your hands to his chest. The change in angle and the feel of his muscles beneath your palms make you gasp.

“That’s a good girl.” He compliments and you don’t bother to hide your smile, leaning into him and further tilting your hips forward. “I’m doing such a good job teaching you how to be a good wife, huh?”

He raises his leg slightly, jostling you in the process, giving you a larger length of thigh to rub your pussy across. Your hips begin a rhythm of their own and now he can see the you he likes so much emerging from the trappings of her polite little life, whimpers puffing out of you with every breath you take.

“Speakin’ of,” he mutters with a deliciously low grumble, flexing his thigh enough that it makes you gasp, hardened muscle giving you the friction your aching clit has so desperately desired since the moment you first straddled it. “How is that going?” Your hips grind, dragging your cunt along the surprisingly well kept leather of his pants, your breasts bouncing gently and catching his eye.

“How’s what going?” You ask breathlessly, head angled slightly toward the ceiling, exposing your neck to him. He leans in and dares to press a kiss to the center of your throat, eliciting a whimper. One of Yami’s hands drags up your side and cups your breast, thumb circling your nipple. “The whole marriage thing. Have you found him yet?”

Speeding up your hips, you are too lost to the way you feel to respond to his ribbing. Your body feels exactly like it did the last time, lighter than a feather yet too heavy to do anything but this exact motion over and over and over again. Your clit bumps against his muscle with every forward grind.

“I’ll take that as a no.” The man chuckles, leaning in to capture one of your nipples between his teeth.

You gasp, again with those delectable noises, and even he finds himself lost in the moment, giving your nipple the same attention he gave your pretty pussy the last time you let him taste you. Licking, nibbling, lavishing you with attention. Manicured nails dig into the visible skin above the collar of his tank top.

He releases your nipple from his mouth, giving one last lick with the flat of his tongue that you clearly enjoy, moaning loudly. His hands naturally gravitate back down to your hips.

“Don’t forget to tell m—“

You cut him off, pressing your forehead against his chin, brows furrowed.

“You make me feel so good, Yami.”

That’s the last damn thing he needed to hear from you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take and he can tell you are so close to coming undone, his own cock throbbing beneath his pants.

Do you even notice what you’ve done to him? God, do you even know what to look for? This isn’t a reciprocal situation yet but his mind races imagining the day that it could become just that, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock or thighs locked around his waist.

Could you even take him if he tried to fit the girth of himself into you?

Think of something else, he warns his subconscious. Anything but that.

“I’m gonna…” you start but you’re cut off when he uses his grip to speed you up. “Come on, do it for me,” he mumbles back but it comes out in such a flurry you can’t make heads or tails of what he’s saying.

Only when your babbling has subsided and your head unceremoniously falls from his chin to his chest does he stop. His hands remain on your hips, your nightgown still bunched. Daring to look down at you, only to find you looking up at him, he half smiles.

“Any good?”

All you can do is nod.

“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 2

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments. Thank you for your continued encouragement!

Bucky leaned back in his chair, studying her reaction keenly. "I understand your concerns," he said, his tone surprisingly understanding. "But trust me, this is a business matter. We're not in the business of hurting innocent people."

"If someone died, I'd probably get deported," Bucky added casually, his tone belying the seriousness of his words.

"You're American too?" you blurted out, your voice tinged with disbelief. It was only now, under the stress of the moment, that you noticed Bucky's lack of a British accent.

"Yup. Just like you. So we have something in common," Bucky replied, his smile masking the underlying tension between you.

Leaning back in your chair, you feigned deep contemplation, buying yourself time to process the weight of Bucky's request. "After thinking thoroughly, it's not gonna happen," you finally declared, your words a thinly veiled refusal.

Bucky's easygoing demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a steely resolve that sent shivers down your spine. Drawing closer, he rested both arms on Rupert's study table, his gaze piercing you unwaveringly.

"Your Grace, because of my friendship with Rupert, I'm giving you this last chance," Bucky declared, his voice low and commanding.

With a swift motion, he produced a business card from his suit pocket and slid it across the table towards you. "I'll be waiting for your call."

As he retreated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping over you. The stakes had never been higher, and you knew that the choices you made in the coming days would shape the course of your future in ways you couldn't yet comprehend.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket as you surveyed the room, your eyes landing on the familiar photos adorning the walls.

Among them, a small picture frame caught your attention, capturing a moment frozen in time: you and Rupert, smiling at a polo game.

Your voice faltered as you addressed the silent figure in the photograph. "Why did you choose me?" you whispered, the weight of the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. "Dad."

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, you pondered your next move. Should you confront your mother, who seemed to have kept secrets hidden all along?

Or seek answers from the twins, who had already distanced themselves from the burden?

After careful consideration, you decided to turn to your childhood friend, Eddie, for guidance. With a sense of determination, you grabbed the car keys and set off for Halstead estate, hoping that Eddie might offer some much-needed clarity in this sea of uncertainty.

As you stepped onto the familiar grounds of Halstead estate, memories of summers past flooded your mind. Despite the initial awkwardness of being left behind by your mother, the warmth of Eddie's family soon enveloped you in a sense of belonging.

The memories of summers spent here flooded back. Your mother left you behind, as the twins didn't want you to join the holiday. So, your mom left you here since Eddie's manor was closer to you.

Initially awkward, but it became enjoyable with Freddie always cracking jokes and Eddie, the adventurous one.

Reminiscing about fishing trips, horseback riding, and clay shooting, you couldn't help but smile at the fond memories made in this idyllic setting.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to see Freddie, Eddie's brother, approaching with open arms. Despite the passage of time, Freddie seemed unchanged, his jovial spirit shining through.

"Y/N! Come here. Give me a hug."

You embraced him. It had been 15 years, and he seemed different, almost radiant.

Freddie said, "I'm sorry about Rupert. I lost my dad last year too."

You replied, "I'm sorry too."

"So, it's obvious you're not here for me. You want to see Eddie?" Freddie asked.

"I am," you confirmed.

"He just finished a conversation with a guest. Let me take you there," Freddie offered, leading the way.

When you walked into the study room, you heard an elegant female voice saying, "I'll give the info later."

As she walked out, you noticed her stylish demeanor and sensed a mysterious aura around her. There was a hint of leadership in her presence, but what struck you as odd was the faint smell of weed lingering in the air.

She smiled at you before departing.

"I didn't expect you to come here so soon," Eddie remarked with a smile as you turned to face him. Seated in a leather chair, he exuded the air of a true duke.

"I didn't know where else I could go," you replied.

Freddie cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two alone."

Eddie offered you a seat and poured a drink, which you gratefully accepted.

"I heard you got the title. Congrats," Eddie said, raising his glass in a toast.

You chuckled softly. "The title is useless when all I've got is debt."

Eddie fell silent for a moment. "I went through a similar situation myself. What kind of problem are you having right now?"

"Do you know Bucky Barnes?" you asked.

Eddie clicked his tongue in response.

Crossing your arms, you continued, "So you know him. That means you knew about my stepdad's weed business."

Eddie leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Rupert got into the business earlier than me," he began, his tone reflecting a mix of resignation and regret. "The woman you saw before is Susie Glass."

"He had a business with her," Eddie continued, his voice tinged with disapproval.

You clenched your jaw, the realization sinking in.

"I didn't know much about the details, but your father was on the list that worked with the Glass," Eddie explained, his expression troubled.

"He wanted out," you interjected, your voice firm with determination.

Eddie nodded grimly. "And that's where Barnes came in. He's a syndicate, setting up a branch in the UK from New York. His business was unique and deadly."

The dimly lit study seemed to take on a more sinister atmosphere as Eddie spoke, shadows dancing across the walls like flickering flames. The air was tense, each word carrying the weight of unspoken truths and hidden dangers.

"Rupert owes Barnes 8 million pounds," you stated, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before responding, his expression thoughtful. "That's..."

"I know, it's insane," you interjected, your voice tinged with frustration.

Eddie met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and determination. "I could pay off your debt," he offered quietly.

You recoiled slightly, taken aback by his proposal. "Then what? I'll still in debt. It never ends," you countered, a note of bitterness creeping into your voice.

You sighed, the weight of Rupert's decision heavy on your shoulders. "Why did Rupert choose me?"

Eddie nodded in understanding, his expression reflective. "I asked the same thing when my dad chose me instead of Freddie."

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked at him, prompting Eddie to chuckle softly. "Problem solver," he explained simply.

You nodded slowly, considering Eddie's words. "Both of us did join the military. Is it because we went through difficult situations?"

Eddie leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with you. "Probably," he agreed, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "But I'm sure you could handle it. If not, I'll be here to help you."

A warmth spread through you at his words, and you felt a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you," you murmured gratefully, appreciating his caring demeanor.

You nodded firmly. "I've got all I need. I'll go now," you declared, trying to maintain composure as you turned to leave.

Eddie nodded in response. "Sure. I'll see you next time," he replied, his tone gentle and understanding.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a swirl of emotions inside, like a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and feelings. You tried to keep a cool facade, but deep down, your heart was racing.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched you go, a flicker of concern crossing his features. Then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Did she notice?" someone asked quietly.

Eddie glanced over, meeting the gaze of the speaker. "Not yet," he responded softly, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated the situation.

You drove for what felt like an eternity until you finally arrived back at your own manor. As you stepped inside, you noticed Hugo playing in the living room with Susan. Ignoring your mother, your focus was solely on your little step-brother.

You were just ten years old when you first met Rupert, and he had quickly become the best father figure you'd ever known. During the eight years you spent here, you learned to appreciate Rupert's love for his legacy and the history of the manor.

Sighing heavily, you knew you were about to make a risky decision.

Heading to Rupert's study again, you picked up Bucky's business card and dialed the number. After just two rings, his voice filled your ears. "I've been waiting for your call, Your Grace," he said smoothly.

Rolling your eyes at his confidence, you replied, "Just one job and you clear the debt?"

Bucky chuckled, his tone dripping with assurance. "It would be a big explosion. They'll think it's a terrorist attack. But no, Your Grace. Five small explosions, and we're done."

Bucky's voice crackled through the line, his tone both humorous and tinged with an unmistakable edge. "Think of it as fireworks, Your Grace. Except instead of pretty colors, we'll be making a statement."

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, the gravity of the situation juxtaposed with Bucky's nonchalant demeanor. "And what kind of statement would that be?" you asked, trying to match his casual tone.

"The kind that says, 'Don't mess with us,'" Bucky replied, his voice dripping with a dangerous charm. "We'll leave 'em scratching their heads and scrambling for cover."

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you couldn't deny the thrill of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And you're sure this will work?" you inquired, a hint of skepticism creeping into your voice.

Bucky's confidence was unwavering. "Trust me, Your Grace. When it comes to making a scene, I'm the best in the business."

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[ewyuzu]

rainy day retreat

suguru geto x reader

the rain patters softly against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to the otherwise quiet apartment. you sit curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket wrapped around you, while the outside world is obscured by the downpour.

suguru geto enters the room, his usual composed demeanor slightly softened by the sight of the rainy weather. he glances around, taking in the cozy setup you’ve created with pillows and blankets strewn about. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“it’s really coming down out there,” he remarks, his voice calm and steady.

you nod, glancing up at him from your comfortable spot. “yeah, it’s perfect weather for staying in. I was just about to make some hot cocoa. want to join me?”

geto raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “hot cocoa? that’s not really my thing, but I suppose I could give it a try.”

you smile and motion for him to sit beside you. “it’s really simple. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

as you make your way to the kitchen, geto follows, his usual air of detachment replaced by a rare, relaxed demeanor. he watches you with an intrigued expression as you start preparing the hot cocoa. the process is soothing and familiar, and you find a pleasant rhythm as you work.

“do you want marshmallows or whipped cream?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“surprise me,” he replies, his tone light, but his eyes show genuine interest in what you’re doing.

with a small laugh, you prepare two mugs of cocoa, adding a generous amount of marshmallows to one and a dollop of whipped cream to the other. you hand him the mug with marshmallows, watching as he takes a tentative sip.

“not bad,” he admits, his usually stoic expression softening slightly. “it’s actually pretty good.”

“see? I told you,” you tease, settling back on the couch and patting the space beside you. “come join me. we can watch a movie or just hang out.”

geto takes a seat next to you, carefully balancing his mug as he looks around the room. the warmth of the hot cocoa and the cozy atmosphere seem to put him at ease. you pick up the remote and start scrolling through options, eventually settling on a movie you’ve been wanting to watch.

as the movie begins, you can’t help but notice how geto seems to be more relaxed than usual. he leans back against the couch, occasionally glancing at you as you both enjoy the film. his rare, genuine smiles throughout the movie make the experience even more enjoyable.

at one point, the movie reaches a particularly emotional scene, and you find yourself moved. you glance over to find geto watching you with an unexpected softness in his eyes.

“are you okay?” he asks, his voice quiet and concerned.

you nod, feeling a warmth spread through you, not just from the cocoa but from the care in his voice. “yeah, I’m fine. it’s just… really nice to have this moment.”

geto doesn’t say anything in response but shifts a bit closer, his arm brushing against yours. the simple gesture is surprisingly comforting, and you lean into him, appreciating the rare display of affection.

the rain continues to fall outside, and the world feels distant and insignificant compared to the quiet comfort of the moment you’re sharing with geto. the movie plays on, but you find yourself more focused on the warmth and closeness you’re experiencing.

as the evening progresses, you both continue to enjoy each other’s company, the simple pleasure of sharing a rainy day together making it a memorable and special experience.

[moonpie016]

Eh? The little dudes again.

---

---

Just the dudes doing random stuff. Like Heart being upside down and all fancy.

(And some funny thing about his eyes, but I forgot that I wasn't drawing my designs for the album, and instead the headspace dudes. So the whole "Love Interest" joke is completely...well. Odd. In a sense. Still fits though with how he/I react to such a thing.)

And Heart's hair while fancy is in two puffs.

One Mind doodle with his hair up. Yay.

Seeds being himself, trying to be cool, does it work? A little. But he's just chilling.

And some Myst thingy. I don't draw her as much anyways, but there.

I didn't feel like coloring it, but then I just did because it would be fun. And I'm also in the process of working on writing something again, though that'll take a while. Like with everything that comes to mind... No pun intended. The feeling of doing something is there, but the more I want to continue something, the more it becomes an afterthought. Or just left alone for something else. But I'm motivated. Surprisingly.

Lots of talking, but I love explaining or just talking about whatever, so. Uh, wall of text for enjoyment! :]

Still need to name the other two. And there's not really a "Darrell" with them. Kind of. Different animal, same role. Maybe I'll draw that.

---

Anyways, enjoy these silly lads and their vague sense of existence.

---

[milffies]

Hiiuuu luv hru!? ❤️ you're LITERALLY my favourite writer who writes angel devil so well!! If you're well and still into csm, is it possible for u to write for him? Maybe more nsfw? (Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing this!) MISSED U SM

hiii nonnie , i'm good , just real busy!!! i'm so glad u like my writing :3 i'm still into csm, just haven't seen the fandom that active but i love angel a whole lot so i enjoyed writing this sm . <33

— ౨ৎ : warnings angel devil x chubby! reader . basically a smutty character study, very tame.

to start things off, angel is terribly gullible !! either he doesn’t care enough, or hasn’t been exposed to people for that long to understand when he’s being 'played'. sweet boy is very, very mallible !! <3

with that said — getting him into a contract that’d allowed for you to freely touch him without risking your lifespan wasn’t all too difficult. once again, it’s between equally likely possibilities that angel let this happen because he admittedly craves touch, or simply didn’t expect himself to get tricked. if you’d ever ask him about the matter, all you’ll be met with is a lazy shrug and an ‘i’dunno’ on his end.

butbutbut!!, once you’ve introduced him to physical contact, and he see’s that it’s something enjoyable, angel very quickly becomes a lovey, mushy, needy puddle. calls you his ‘favorite human’ and all !! though, he is still a devil before all else, and combined with his already nonchalant personality, he’ll process emotions ‘n whatnot very differently. give the poor thing time, though — he’ll get better at this for you !!

the first time you touch angel’s hand — you note that it’s surprisingly soft. after a second of thought, though, you conclude it isn’t too shocking considering this is angel devil. the devil with big, expressive eyes and pretty pink lips. lips you often times find yourself imaging not being lethal.

he jerks his hand away from yours after you’d two had made a contract that’d give you free reign to touch him. you watch as he looks at his hand as if you were the one that could drain his very life essence away. the thought makes you wonder if devil’s even have the life force to even get sucked away.

those same doe-like eyes of his blinks in succession a few times before landing on you.

“soo,” you’d drawl, a small, knowing grin on your lips. “i feel fine. i’m guessing that didn’t take off any of my time?”

you’re met with a shaky nod from the smaller figure. he licks a stripe over the thin expanse of his lips your eyes still haven’t fully moved from.

“can….can you touch me again?”

the only, truly proper way to describe an early ‘relationship’ angel is as a needy kitten. the ones that very and visibly clearly want affection and attention — but never initiate physical contact first. at times, he’ll reluctantly sprawl himself on you, a guiding hand on your wrist being led to his head. nono — of course he doesn’t need your attention !! you just happen to be a convient source of it (he convinced himself this to be the reason why he likes being around you.)

as angel is exposed to more affection and touch — and you bring him to the revelation that it can be sexual — a noticable spike in his clinginess is very obvious. constantly seeking out reassurance when nestled into you — a shy, reluctant: “we can uhm…cuddle…right?”, an unsure: “work was soo tiring today, can we hug ‘n stuff…?” to the suprise of none; he didn’t really do any devil hunting — but that’s an afterthought to him when you coddle him as if he’s some little, helpless thing. he’s too precious like this, how can you not take advantage of the moment !! <3

if you’re chubby: angel is all over you even more !! so soft, so warm — you’re pratically his own heated, weighted blanket. angel knows he’s more petite and lithe, by human standards, and clearly by devil standards. loves how nice his smaller frame slots so perfectly against your own larger body though, constantly nuzzling up against the softest parts of you.

“stop movin’ s’much,” a muffled voice murmurs, the owner of the voice’s head comfortably buried in your chest.

“tryin’ to get comfy.” angel lazily says, gazing up at you, his pretty long lashes obscuring parts of his irises. he’d been that close to probably having the greatest nap in his life, but he couldn’t find himself fully drifting off because of you shifting around. truly, you were a blessing and a curse. cozy and soft to the touch, but always moving — interrupting his plans to laze around. </3

with a small smile and a hand to his scalp, a muttered apology is given to him. how can you not adore him like this?; pressed so close to you as if he’s trying to melt into you, breathes shallow and not completely taken with the bratty front he usually puts up.

angel feels your own rising chest even out, letting out a content sigh. finally, it’s hard trying to get proper shut-eye when your human pillow can’t stop moving.

“thas’ better…” the devil murmurs, pretty eyelashes fluttering, before closing.

like i wrote about in this post, angel, like everything else, is very lazy when it comes to him and sexual encounters. this doesn’t in specific mean that he’s not a good partner, or unattentive to your needs — he just doesn’t know. that, and, he never puts extra energy into anything he does, even if this, (to him) unknowingly jeopardizes his own pleasure. baby doesn’t just yet grasp the concept that, the thing that already makes him feel good and overwhelmed, could somehow be better !! </3

very, very sweet and absorbed in what makes the two of you feel the best. especially you. kissing this part of you makes you let out those pretty noises for him? noted. pressing, and rubbing his fingers in unsteady circles has you closing your doughy thighs around his hand? angel’s certainly keeping that tucked away in his head. will want you desperately to talk him through it, guiding him where to touch, suck, and kiss. actually puts in effort when you praise him, don’t acknowledge the fact he lives off this though — he pouts !!

angel’s hips rolls against your own softer ones at a languid pace, occasionally pistoning down to give a proper thrust.

“w—warm…” he lets out — the sound a mix between a murmur and a whine. he bites his bottom lip and hides his face in your neck to cut the sound off prematurely. feels too good for him; too squishy, too syrupy. god, how did he manage existence for so long without ever feeling this ?

“yeah?” you tease, a hand coming to comb through his slightly damp locks. at the touch, angel properly lets out a whine, his hips giving one, two, then three quick thrusts into your too-tight pussy. though his moves are uncoordinated, the shakey rocking of his pelvis against yours has your pussy rewarding his movements with tight clenches. and of course—

“yeah.” he echoes — he whimpers. "feels s’good — feels good f’you too…right?” how eager he is to please. though, he’d never admit it. but you can tell, especially with how he’s zeroing in on rolling his hips in tight circles — knows that gets you to tighten up around his pretty cock and let out hushed moans of your own.

“good boy, angel.” you sigh, head lolling back, prompting him to bury his face deeper into your sweaty flesh. needs to be close to you, needs to know this is real.

angel’s too precious like this — not fully understandant on how to please sexually. the small devil is unintentionally edging you, you’re so close to making a sticky mess over the petite man — if only he was a ‘lil bit more experienced.

though, that’s what you’re there for, right? <3