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#thanks for your help nonetheless
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I saw you wanted to be asked about autism, so what’s the first thing you remember that pointed to autism?
Mine was having meltdowns any time I was cold.
Hello! First of all, I wanted to say thank you for asking me about something autism-related! I did do a post on my page saying how I wanted to be asked about autistic things, however I didn’t really expect anyone to read it, and even if people did I didn’t expect to actually be asked anything 😅, so thank you for asking! It is appreciated.
The first thing I remember to kind of be an “autistic thing” (that is also non-violent, non-traumatizing, non-ableist, essentially, not a “bad” memory) is:
Once upon a time, when I was younger, my parents set up a tv-system in the minivan, where there were tvs strapped to the back of the head-rests, or strapped to that thing in the center of the middle-seated area that you can open up. Anyway, movies could be watched on the mini tvs and I was in charge of it. I even had a little “remote” and everything. I remember loving a song in the movie, “Oliver and Company”. The song was, “Why Should I Worry” by Billy Joel, but the song is not important/significant. The reason why I mention the song, however, is because I loved the song, and I think I stimmed to the song. Because it’s unusual to expect to finish an entire movie in a single car ride, I would have to skip ahead to where the movie left off, however I would usually never skip this song, because I enjoyed listening to it so much.
I think this was one of the first instances where I learned it was “socially acceptable” or “ok” to stim to music. To this day, I find myself being ok to stim to music by listening to stuff on repeat, or stim mostly through sound and auditory stuff. But yes I think this was an auditory stim moment for me, and thanks again for asking.
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altruistic-meme · 2 years
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I saw you were in the mood for drabble prompts, and I am in the mood to be unhinged. So with that absolutely destructive pairing, I went to a sentence generator, and I was given this absolute monstrosity.
"That must be the tenth time I've been arrested for selling deep-fried cigars."
I do not know what this means. Please, please do something with this. I am laughing so hard that my stomach hurts.
truly a destructive pair, but i am certainly not complaining. this was delightful. i'm cackling trying to imagine how you can be arrested TEN TIMES for this. is it even a crime??? i don't know. i love it. anyway i never actually answer the question, but i hope you still enjoy this silly little thing!
Wilhelm was pretty sure he wasn’t actually supposed to hear it. He had only come to this café to work on his homework, some big project about some baroque artist, without being bothered by August for once. The stranger had sat behind him some time after he had arrived, and they had both been working in peace – Wilhelm had his earbuds in, anyway. Well, up until they had died. 
He had taken them out with a quiet sigh, debating packing his things since he wasn’t sure how focused he would be without the music, when he heard it. 
“That must have been the tenth time I’d been arrested for selling deep-fried cigars,” the stranger behind him laughed into his phone. Wilhelm probably wasn’t meant to hear it, and he was sure he shouldn’t have turned around, but he did anyway. He knew he was making an astonished face, but he couldn’t really help it. The stranger looked over and their eyes locked. 
“Huh?” Wilhelm gasped without meaning to. The stranger smiled brightly at him, a small giggle falling from his lips. Hm, maybe Wilhelm shouldn’t be looking so closely at his lips. 
Quickly, the stranger said his goodbyes to whoever was on the phone with him and leaned forward in his seat. With a shit-eating grin, he asked “Can I help you?”
Wilhelm was quiet for a moment before turning around fully in his chair to face the person in front of him. He looked about Wilhelm’s age, he was… quite handsome. And he had such a beautiful laugh. “Would it be weird to ask what you were talking about?” Wilhelm gave a small smile of his own when the stranger shut his laptop. 
“Depends on how much time you have, I guess.” Wilhelm gestured to the empty seat at his table, so the stranger gathered his stuff and moved to sit across from him. 
“I’m Wilhelm,” he introduced himself. 
“Simon.”
“Well, Simon,” Wilhelm grinned. “Why are you selling… deep-fried cigarettes?”
Simon let out a soft laugh, and for a moment Wilhelm thought he would love to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. 
“Cigars,” Simon corrected.
“Deep-fried cigars, then.”
“Well, it’s a long story involving way too many twinkies, a couple of angry salesmen, and a cat…”
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dreampearls · 1 year
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albedo/durin + finn/fern… :-(
MY GOD FERN THE HUMAN.
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animationismycomfort · 3 months
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wait okay i need to ask genuinely because I'm not understanding very well. i promise im trying not to be rude
but how are mspec/bi/pan lesbians valid/a thing?
Lesbian quite specifically means "woman who loves women", therefore, someone who loves men or someone who identifies as a man, couldn't be a lesbian? It feels like stealing the term from... lesbians, does it not?? "words are just words, gender is made up" but these terms, these words, they do hold meaning, don't they? They were made for a reason, after all. Lesbians feel a bit... pushed out when it comes to certain things sometimes, if that makes sense. I'm a lesbian myself and I sincerely feel like this label isn't "just a word" really and this invites male-aligned people into our space. We made these words so that we can describe ourselves, not even just lesbian, more words than that of course. Most, it not all identities, were named so that we could put words to our identity. for us thats women who love women. I'm not fully educated, and I'm open to it, and sorry for ranting but the term just does... bother me a little.
most of my friends, who also identify as lesbian, agree to this sentiment, and I do feel it's important to listen to wlw who say these things, we feel pushed out of our own space by people who could very well have their own space without taking a word we have always used to identify ourselves and mixing it to have a different meaning.
I’m not really good for this type of question as I myself do not fully understand(mostly because I am not of that minority specifically)but I get using labels that might be strange to others to explain yourself which is why I’m open and greatly love people who use them as well
you might wanna ask someone who does actual research and has a big understanding about it I could recommend some if you wish I know a bi lesbian blog that could help or you could search some up as well
sorry I can’t help but as someone who doesn’t have first hand experience I feel like I can’t really give a good one
but I think they’re valid because gender can be complicated and so can sexuality and I think if people truly feel that these labels fit them then so be it
I’ve noticed most people who use these terms are mostly people with more genders
or with different romantic and sexual attraction
or or they themselves are a system with multiple different people in there
or or or it can be for people with preferences as well
doesn’t mean they have to be of that to use em but it’s the most common
I personally think if you truly feel that you are this thing
then you are
gender and sexuality are all about feelings are they not?
and these terms were made to explain feelings and emotions we ourselves back in the day could not understand isn’t that true?
so….why not in my opinion
I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but that might be an issue you yourself need to solve other then that I can’t give much else
also also how have y’all felt pushed out of your own space as far as I know mspec lesbians have their own?
as do male lesbians so how have you been pushed out of your own space?
I think you have some stuff to figure out but that you can do in your own time
though you again could find some help in the spaces and blogs I’ve talked about
either way I hope you find whatever your looking for
and I thank you for trying to understand and for being brave enough to ask even with your complicated and pretty strange views
#bit of a complicated ask with some complicated feelings#thanks for it nonetheless#and I wish I could help more but I’m not a professional on these things#also for the whole definition thing I think we used basic words to describe our complicated feelings as that’s all they were aloud but now#that we’re evolving we’re learning more ways to understand our complicated feelings#and one of those ways is finding out that though these definitions have a fit already they can also fit you#and I don’t think that’s a bad thing we as a society are changing everyday#words have meaning but these meanings and words were made up by people trying to understand themselves and though they have a basic#definition that is not all they are or made for#once you realize that everthing gets a bit easier to understand#also if I accidentally cherry picked your ask that was not my intention and im sorry if it felt like it was#I’m just trying my best with it seems a very long and serious issue of a problem for you#forgive me if I accidentally misunderstood anything#and if I offended you or said something personally innaporpraite please tell as I’m not good with telling when it comes to text#anyways have a good day or night wherever you are#and I hope you find some peace of mind and I hope you get the knowledge your seeking elsewhere#I hope no one gives me asks like this again#like not gonna fault people who wanna learn but I’m not that type of blog or person#mspec lesbian#mspec#boy lesbian#lesbian#question#asks#answered#not really#my stuffy stuff#if I offended anyone or got anything wrong please let me know#and feel free to educate me as well im always willing to learn#if this post hurts anyone I will gladly delete it
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ickadori · 7 months
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
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“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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awearywritersworld · 3 months
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megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader
tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.
ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.
gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"
gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"
gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"
honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?
he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?
apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.
he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.
while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.
his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.
and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.
he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—
"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.
while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"
oh.
gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.
megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.
"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.
you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."
gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.
"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.
your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.
"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"
"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.
the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.
you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.
he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."
this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.
gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.
"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"
just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.
"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"
nice.
"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.
you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.
megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"
"shut it, kid."
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ririblogsss · 24 days
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Danny pulls an uno reverse card
ok just hear me out.
Danny decided 'you know what this man needs adult supervision' Danny had just moved to Bludhaven as small business weren't questioned even it was owned by a teenager.
So Danny opened up a very cheap mechanic store, prices were to die for and people were thankful he didn't ask questions as long as they did the same for him.
Que one very malnourished and exhausted cop coming in for a check up on their cop car. So Danny took one look at that man and thought he needed someone to help him.
Dick is so confused why plates of food keep appearing everywhere around him, with little post it notes saying he should sleep more and drink water. At first dick thought it was Alfred who finally gained teleportation powers, but one call later confirmed that his original theory was wrong.
He took the nest meal to analyze and found that it was perfectly healthy for consumption. Alfred even said that he thought the person behind it all just wanted Dick to have a more healthy life style.
Dick tried to piece together who could possibly be doing that, especially going into his house undetected. Then one day it was his one day off and the doorbell rung thinking it was one of his brothers because go the short black hair and overall build, he opened the door not to any of his brothers, but a teen nonetheless.
'good at least your taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods, now I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them appropriately without running yourself to the ground' the teen pushed past Dick who had his jaw dropped "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow. Any questions"
"Yeah... just one who that fuck are you kid"
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ellemj · 4 months
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Strawberries
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT
Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.
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Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?
Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 7.5k
A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.
            Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.
            Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.
            “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.
            As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.
            “You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.
            “He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.
            Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.
            Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?
---
            It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.
            When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.
            “Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.
            “If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?
            When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.
---
            You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.
            Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.
            “Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.
            “Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.
            “Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.
            You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.
            When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.
            Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.
            “I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.
            “You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”
            “I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”
            “You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.
            “Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.
            Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.
            “What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.
            “You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.
            “Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.
            “Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.
            “Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.
            When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.
            “Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.
            “I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”
            His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.
            “You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.
            Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.
            You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.
            “Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”
            “I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.
            “You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.
            Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.
            “Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.
            “You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.
            “I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.
            “You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.
            You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.
            “Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.
            “Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.
            “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.
            “Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.
            “I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.
            Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.
            “Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.
            “Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.
            “I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.
            “I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.
            “Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.
            “Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.
            Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.
            “We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.
            “Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.
            “You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.
            “I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”
            “Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.
            “I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.
            “It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”
            “Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”
            “I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.
            Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.
But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.
“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”
“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”
Shit. He might be in love with you.
4K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 4 months
Note
Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.
In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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peachypinkygloss · 10 months
Text
cherry — jjk
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Jungkook has a crush on you and he does everything to conquer your heart (like eating your pussy whenever and wherever he feels like it).
⚡︎ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
⚡︎ genre: friends with benefits to lovers, college au, smut
⚡︎ word count: 2.9k
⚡︎ warnings: pussy drunk jk because there's no way he wouldn't be, jk's a simp, they're kinda corny but whatever i like that about them, public sex, unprotected sex, oral (f & m), cunnilingus, handjob, overstimulation, cum eating.
a.n.: jk in a tank + hooded jacket has me acting up bruh, quick put me in jail ‼️ literally wrote this in one night send help. as always, don't thank me 💋 please, tell me if you liked it or not 🫶
"Stop..." You whine, gripping his hair in your fists. "Jungkookie!" You insist even more as you try to push his head away from the area between your legs, but Jungkook doesn't budge an inch. You squirm around and cry pathetically, but it doesn't alert him at all.
He keeps licking and slurping until no arousal is left, but more always comes out of your hole, so he continues and continues... Oh, you wonder how this man can be so hungry even after eating the whole plate he ordered. You told him to not follow you into the bathroom, but Jungkook never listens, does he?
You pull on his black locks and the only answer you receive is a disapproval grunt from him. You sob, so overwhelmed and tired, but you can't deny how good his tongue feels on your naked core.
He already got two orgasms out of you, one with his fingers patting gently your sweet spot and the other by sucking avidly on your clit. You don't remember which one came first and maybe they both happened at the same time. You don't really know.
You're so overstimulated, but his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud have you over the edge again. It hurts badly good. Does it even make sense? Whatever, it makes sense to you.
You two hooking up in a bathroom while your friends are waiting outside is bad, while having Jungkook's head between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man is good. A little too good.
You place a hand behind you on the counter, the other holding tightly his hair in your fist, not caring if you pull too harshly. If his scalp stings, it's in no comparison to the heavy pulsations in your clit.
"Jungkook, fuck," you curse, throwing your back against the wall, just beside the mirror. "God, this is too much!" You yelp and close your legs, pushing his head away from your drenched pussy.
He doesn't fight back and he peeks out from between your thighs, looking up at you. Your heart skips a beat when you see his face and how messy he looks because of you.
His lips and chin are glistening in your juices, tongue darting out to lick them clean. Some of his curls are broken, hair tousled around, and you really can tell you were pulling on them seconds ago. Just the thought that his face was buried between your legs, insanely making out with your cunt, makes your stomach clench.
How can he be so passionate about something that isn't even his? He's really trying hard to make you fall in love with him and you have to admit he's doing good so far. If dating Jungkook means receiving head everyday you might stop rejecting him and consider letting him have a chance.
But you don't feel like it right now, even though he's treating you like a real princess. Being chased is really fun, you're about to become addicted to that treatment.
"Just a little bit more, okay, baby? Just another one, let me do that, please," he begs, but in the end he always does whatever he wants to you. You rarely say no to him and his filthy mouth, and even if you would say no, you doubt he would listen.
"My clit will fall out," you sigh, so weak against his pleas. Nonetheless, you slowly pull your legs apart, revealing your core to him again, totally at the mercy of his insatiable hunger.
He looks at your crotch, pouting slightly, showing a bit of compassion. But him having pity for you doesn't mean he'll stop, oh no, not at all.
"Don't say that," he scolds, staring at your swollen clit. "It'll feel really good, I promise, baby," he coos and you can only believe him. He softly blows on your sensitive bud, making you flinch, and a smug smirk appears on his face.
"Okay..." You capitulate, gasping when his mouth finds its spot on your pussy a second time.
On the other hand, there are your nipples, hard and puffy, wanting Jungkook's attention badly. You wish he would focus on something else than your cunt, but he's stubborn and when he wants something, he has it.
You play with your nipples through the material of your dress since you decided to not wear a bra today. You pinch and pull on them, moaning sweetly as the knot at the pit of your stomach tightens with Jungkook's ministrations.
His strong and veiny hands hold up your thighs while he enters and exits your pussy with his sturdy tongue, his big nose brushing against your clit so deliciously.
You can't believe he uses his nose voluntarily, actually knowing it's doing something, unlike most men who literally have no idea what they are doing with their hands and mouth. Jungkook is so passionate about cunnilingus, you're lucky to have him, honestly.
"Close," you warn him hurriedly, scrunching your eyes shut as you feel your high approaching really soon. It's going to be intense, you sense it. It burns in your belly, it twists and it tightens, making you go crazy over Jungkook's mouth. "Fuck, Kookie, please!"
You rub your pussy in his face and he groans deeply, appreciating your enthusiasm for his incredible skills. He hears you and fastens the pace of his tongue, moving his head from side to side, his nose pressing against your clit.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you moan out your pleasure, cumming hard on Jungkook's tongue. He hums contently as your thighs shake beside his head, his hand palming your soft flesh, leaving beautiful marks behind.
You come down from your high, letting out a long sigh, totally pleased with what just happened. He licks you clean, collecting your arousal on his tongue and drinking it as if it was pure water.
He stands up when he's finished, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. You look absolutely dead, which is understandable after Jungkook just forced three orgasms out of your poor body.
He looks satisfied, and you wonder if he's still hungry. He probably is, which would be insane, but what's not crazy with this man.
He doesn't waste time before he's kissing you sensually, tasting yourself on his tongue, fighting for dominance as you let him have it. After all, you're too tired to fight for anything.
Though you're exhausted, the bulge in his pants catches your attention. He presses it against you and you feel it really clearly, erected and hard just for you.
You break the kiss, trying to catch your breath as you slide off the countertop. "What do we do about that?" You purr, sneaking a hand between your two bodies and reaching his hard cock trapped in his jeans.
He hisses, grabbing your wrist as if to remove your hand, but he keeps it there, even though he's really sensitive. "We leave it as it is," he says seriously and you frown, a pout forming on your lips.
"Oh, don't be a gentleman, Kook," you reply quickly, determined to return the favour. "Let me suck your dick, please. I'll be such a good girl," you insist and he can't refuse you.
"I'm all yours, then," he grins, letting go of your wrist.
You push him against the nearest wall and you drop on your knees instantly. Your bones hitting the floor tile isn't gentle, but you'll suffer through any pain if it means sucking this pretty man's dick. Right, maybe you're a little whipped for Jungkook, but that doesn't mean anything. Or does it...?
You stroke him over his pants, feeling his length and his girth under all those pieces of clothes. You extend your arm to reach the zipper of his hooded jacket, tugging it down open. You look up at him while doing so, noticing his tongue toying with his lip piercing. He's focused on your movements, watching your hands on him as if it's a movie, wanting to remember each second of it.
You go under his white tank top, running your delicate fingers over his abs, loving the feeling of his muscles under your palm. They tense a little bit at your contact and you can't help but smile, enjoying how much Jungkook isn't indifferent to your touch at all.
"Stop playing," he breathes out, wanting you to get your hands on what's really aching right now.
"I'm sorry," you apologize in a low tone, even though you don't really feel bad for him. He gave you three orgasms one after the other without listening to your complaints, didn't he?
You finally free his cock out, this one springing out excitedly, standing tall against his stomach. Jungkook releases a breath of relief, burying his tattooed fingers in your hair by reflex. You don't mind the pulling, you love it, in fact. It tells you he's enjoying himself and it reminds you he still has control over your actions.
"You know what happens to bad girls, sweetheart," he says and it sounds like a warning. A quite exciting warning, you won't lie. "Make me proud and act good," Jungkook orders from above, your eyes up on him as you nod your head in response.
Your gaze shifts down to his hard cock, slightly curved with a vein along it. You lick your lips, now understanding the hunger Jungkook felt when he had your pussy in his face. The eagerness to please him is real.
You wrap your fingers around him, liking how stiff he feels under your palm, and put his leaking tip into the warmth of your mouth. "Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath, his head rolling back and hitting the wall behind. He closes his eyes, feeling every inch of his length that enters your mouth. "So fucking good."
As he praises you like you're nothing less than a goddess, you swallow his dick, exactly the way he likes it, the way he showed you. You breathe through your nose, Jungkook being specially big for your mouth, but you surely won't give up so soon.
You said you'll pay him back and you stick to your words. Especially after those fantastic orgasms he gave you tonight.
You palm gently his balls — which he's really sensitive to — while you start bobbing your head over him. Your eyes are quick to water and you blink to pry the tears away, unbothered if your makeup gets smudged. You hear deep moans and groans from Jungkook, telling how good you're being.
You keep your tongue flat underneath him and hollow your cheeks to maximize his pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your head over his cock as he watches it disappear and reappear between your lips.
He's entirely coated in your spit, length glistening under the bathroom's lights as you bounce your head over him. The situation feels really filthy and the fact that you're in a restaurant, your friends probably wondering what's taking you both so long, is making everything more arousing.
Jungkook didn't even hesitate when he discreetly followed you to the toilet, locking the door before sneaking his large hands under the skirt of your dress. You've let him touch you, let him sit you down on the sink counter, let him slide your panties off. And you don't regret it.
You're even grateful he followed you because now you have to listen to his beautiful moans like it's a melody and suck his dick like it's a cherry lollipop — your favourite.
"Let me... Let me," he rasps out, swallowing to ease his dried throat. You glance up at him when you hear him begin to talk, wondering what he has to say. "Ask you out on a date," he finishes and the lopsided smile on his face has your stomach fluttering.
You pull him out with a 'pop', stroking his wet cock as you collect your thoughts. Is he really asking you out right now? As you're sucking the soul out of him?
"Aren't we already on a date?" You wonder, knowing it's not the answer he wants. You're just not totally ready to give a response to that, not even think about it. You prefer to avoid, prefer to tease.
He frowns cutely, passing his fingers through your tangled hair. He wets his pink lips and looks at you as he reflects, shaking his head. "This isn't a date," he replies. "I want to be with you, only you, baby."
He's referring to your night out with your friends, explaining a real date will be you as his only company. He sounds sure of himself, completely convinced that what he wants and needs is a date with you.
Somewhere you'd choose because he believes the place doesn't matter as long as you're happy with it. Somewhere he can learn more about you, more about your personality and the people you love. He wants to get to know you, know how much sugar you put in your coffee and know if you take your shower in the morning or at night.
He wants to know the simple and the difficult things.
Everything. He wants you to tell him everything about you because he's absolutely in love. Stupidly, drunkly in love with you.
"I want to know you," he confesses and you swear your heart just did a jump in your chest.
"You know me more than anybody else, Jungkook," you flirt, smiling as you stroke him gently, elongating the pleasure. "In every way and angle possible."
It makes him chuckle, his eyes blown out in lust. He shows his cute bunny teeth, a smile you realize you don't want to lose — yes, even when giving him a handjob.
"Let me have my chance, you won't regret it," Jungkook promises, his thumb passing over your cheek, leaving your poor heart incredulous, but still wanting to believe every single word that escapes his mouth.
You don't respond right away, a bit lost in your own thoughts. You've only said good things about Jungkook since you started hooking up and all of your girlfriends are team Jungkook since the beginning. You've even lost the count of his green flags.
Maybe you should let yourself be more vulnerable and be open with him about your feelings. You realize that all this time the one you weren't trusting with your emotions was you, not him.
"I'll fuck you right every day, you'll just have to ask," he adds on and you roll your eyes playfully, smiling at his silly words. "Even on the week-ends. Especially Sunday," he smirks, saying everything to convince you, even what seems stupid because at this point, he knows you've already fell for him.
You swallow him in a swift motion, lubricating his cock more as there was a bit less saliva left on him. You pull out and start pumping him again.
"Why Sundays?" At your question he grins even more, as if he knows his answer will please you.
"Because it's the day of the week you hate the most," he explains, biting down on his bottom lip as the knot in his stomach begins to tighten. "Gonna make it the one you love the most."
You can't help but grin back, connecting your gaze with him. You break eye-contact to tilt your head down and take him back into your mouth. He takes a hold of your hair again and his grip is rough, making your scalp burn.
You whine around him, sucking him like there's no tomorrow. He quickly comes close to his high, saying a bunch of profanity under his breath. He directs the movements of your head, making you take all of him at once, then sliding back up to just have the tip in your mouth.
"Shit, baby," he slurs out, wet curly bangs covering his forehead. His big brown eyes don't leave you, watching you like you're a living piece of art. "Gonna cum, don't stop," he announces and you doubt you'll stop with his hand behind your head, controlling each one of your moves.
You hum around him and place your hands on his strong thighs, sensing his muscles tensing up as he comes undone in you. He steadies your head over him, nose pressed down on his shaved pelvis.
He softly moans, pink lips parting to let the sounds out. He fills your mouth up with his cum, cock twitching as he spills everything he can in you.
He carefully slips out of your mouth and you don't wait to swallow everything before sticking your tongue out to prove him. He smiles, patting your head gently. "What a good girl," he compliments, satisfied with your instant obedience.
You stand up on sore legs as Jungkook stuff himself back in his pants, pulling the zipper of his jeans up. He replaces his tank top over his stomach, covering the band of his Calvin Klein boxers that peaks out.
He brings you closer to him by the waist and you giggle, playing with his silver chain he wears around his neck. "What do you say?"
You sigh, pretending like he annoys you, but your smile totally betrays you. "One date," you accept and he's about to kiss you, but you stop him before he can. "But I chose where we go... and you can't follow me to the bathroom anymore!"
Jungkook chuckles, cupping your jaw and giving you a kiss on the lips. "Deal." As you're about to go back to your table, he hands you something and your eyes widen when you see your panties. "Don't forget that, I'm the only one allowed to see what's under that pretty dress."
You take back your underwear, stepping into the holes then sliding them up your legs. "Shut up," you quickly say before exiting the bathroom, Jungkook behind you.
.
.
.
Do not ask for a part 2.
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Text
Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
Text
Comfortable
Summary: Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Fluff. Aftercare. Oral sex. Pillow humping. Innuendo. Mentions of masturbation.
Word count: 3.3k
It's a wavering sequence of whimpers that catches Astarion's attention just as he arrives at camp after a late night hunt.
The blood on non thinking creatures seldom presents itself as a decent meal, but he finds it unfair to depend exclusively on you.
The boars in the outskirts of Baldur's Gate are delectable enough to blind his hunger for a few hours – maybe a full day, if need be.
The camp seems peaceful and quiet with everyone still catching some rest after in their respective tents, and as the pale moon glows up high in the dark blue sky, he notices the dawn isn't breaking for at least a few more hours.
Maybe he can indulge in a trance to ease his mind and body after feeding, even though it's not a dire necessity.
But it seems that the night has other plans reserved for him.
His steps are light and sure, following the crescendo of sounds that seems to come from near his tent.
He would recognise that voice anywhere.
You.
As he draws near, trying to make out the origin of said whimpers, he vaguely wonders if you're having a dream.
That is the most reasonable explanation.
But then he hears what resembles a muffled groan.
A nightmare?
Instinctively, an eyebrow quirks as he approaches your tent.
And then he freezes.
Even through the obvious failed attempt at reining yourself in, he knows exactly what he heard.
His name. Muffled and barely intelligible, but his name, nonetheless.
An amused smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him that you are indeed pleasuring yourself. Risky and unexpected, but beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Cheeky…
He could simply entertain this, and leave it to you to reach your peak on your own.
Unfortunately for him, he has just fed.
And unfortunately for you, he has every intention of interrupting your solo endeavour.
His usual cool body now flooded with the warmth and vigour that make it extremely easy not to succumb to your sweet and melodic whimpers.
As such, he tugs at the strings that hold both flaps together, successfully drawing a surprised gasp from you.
“You scared me!” 
He finds you propped up on one elbow before rushing to sit and pulling a blanket to cover yourself, a mortified look splattered across your face.
The sight in front of him is enough for the recently drunk blood to rush downwards at record speed. 
Predictable, but such is the nature of his body when it comes to you.
Flustered and quickened breaths. His senses are so sharp from the recent blood intake, that he can hear your heartbeat drumming fast in your chest.
By now, he knows you well enough.
So well, that he's sure he has just interrupted your climax.
The confirmation comes in the form of a low growl of frustration.
He almost feels sorry for you, but what crosses his mind is the offer of a moment of pleasure so great only he can provide.
“You were close.”
It isn't a question and he doesn't expect an answer.
But you're so visibly irritated that you scowl deeply. “Yes! Yes, I was. Thank you so much for interrupting.”
“My pleasure,” he retorts, knowing fully well he's about to set off a bomb if he doesn't choose his words carefully.
You have a temper he adores to test. He's used to dancing to your tune and knows exactly which strings to pull to get you riled up in ways that often lead to very enjoyable outcomes.
His cock welcomes your huff of annoyance with a faint twitch.
“Why didn’t you just… wait…” you almost cry out in sheer frustration.
He lets out a taunting laugh. “What, and miss out on all of the fun, darling?”
A dramatic pout settles your lips and it takes all of his self-control not to wipe it off your face with a kiss in an instant.
“How many did you take this time?”
It is a glaring taunt.
And your mouth drops open.
Maybe he should have eased his way in, considering the current predicament.
But the way your body is all flustered and heated from your own touch is enough to flare desire inside him. And whenever desire begins to swell inside him, the fine line between reason and pleasure begins to blur. 
Mostly because he knows he was the one on your mind when you had your fingers deep inside you.
Your eyes widen slowly, and you clutch the blanket closer to your lower half, still hiding the proof of your arousal from his prying eyes.
You don't reply at first, your pride keeping you silent.
But Astarion doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys your resistance at first. Makes it all the more enjoyable when you finally give in.
“How many, darling?”
You frown, averting your eyes.
So stubborn…
His cock adores it.
“How many?” his tone is firmer this time and you slowly meet his eyes again.
“... two.”
He clicks his tongue, crouching before you. “Oh, darling…” 
Two fingers are not nearly enough to provide the fullness and stretch that only his cock can. But he appreciates your effort nonetheless.
It's quite adorable and enough to have his cock hardening even more.
Your fingers still glisten in the faint candlelight and he feels the sudden urge to have them in his mouth. He never tires of tasting you in more ways than one.
“You do not need to hide from me,” he says tenderly, but still not moving an inch. He wants you to feel comfortable enough under his gaze. “You've bared yourself to me many times, love.”
Still, you don't let go of the fabric, a slash of defiance crossing your face. “You took too long.”
Ah. “Did you miss me?”
You bite your lip, face softening as you nod twice.
And you were so desperate for him that you just couldn't wait?
Gods.
His cock stirs even more against his trousers at the silent realisation.
“And I am here now,” he says, dropping to his knees, as a wicked smile turns his lips. “So, allow me.”
He reaches out with his hand to tug at the fabric, silently looking for your permission.
A shaky sigh parts your lips and he spots a shiver as he pulls the blanket that keeps you from him.
His eyes drop to the sweet spot between your legs and he almost regrets having interrupted you.
Almost.
Your clit is so swollen it deliciously peeks from between your folds, parting them gently. It throbs faintly as he catches your clenching a few times, wetness dripping out.
After a moment, he manages to tear his gaze away, ignoring the twitches of protest from his cock.
He finds your half-hooded eyes. “May I?”
You hesitate at first, nearly pressing your thighs together, but he stops you with both hands on your knees, a reassuring grip that has you slowly but surely loosen up under his touch.
“You don't have to…”
No, he doesn't.
But he wants to.
In fact, he thinks he needs to.
He rubs circles along your flushed skin, wanting your full attention on him before he speaks, “I appreciate the concern, darling, but I'm impossibly hard and you look incredibly delectable.”
It's more than enough to have you yearning for more, as a surprise gasp parts your lips.
You finally nod, spreading your legs and leaning back as you settle on your elbows.
He offers a sly grin, lowering and positioning himself right where he craves to be.
But not before he eases some of the growing tension on his lower half. The blood coursing through his body is more of an inconvenience for now, and he's sure, under different circumstances, he'd have better control over this.
Or maybe not.
Maybe you're just that good for him.
You jerk slightly when his mouth draws near your slick folds.
“Wait.”
And he does, his concentration slightly shaken as he promptly scans your face for any cause for alarm.
“Just… don't leave afterwards.”
Don't leave–
Astarion's lips are so close to your clit, he has to pull back slightly so he can have a proper look at you, his hardened cock still straining against his undergarments.
“What do you mean?” he asks, perplexed. 
There is hesitance in your eyes. “You tend to leave after… like you don't want to be here with me.”
That sounds like a whiplash to him, because it is not true at all.
Your words take him by surprise  and he immediately worries he may have said or done something that could be interpreted as mixed signals.
“Darling, I–”
But you immediately shake your head. “If you can stay after… I'd appreciate it. Only you want to, of course,” you quickly add. “It doesn't feel right otherwise…”
It isn't a request. Nor a plea.
It's just what feels right.
He's done this many times to the point of instinct. It comes natural to him to please others. The aftermath, though, is something that he's also used to forgoing. The mess, the sweat, the fluids… the unnecessary and forced talk…
But you are different, aren't you?
You are not… the others.
And after all you've been through, he feels his mind nearly snap in half as he realises just how much he's still holding back with you.
Even something as simple as just staying still felt… tainted.
Slowly, he nods. 
And slowly, your lips turn into a tender smile that he's grown to adore beyond comprehension.
“I'll stay.”
You heave a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Astarion counters the impromptu detour with unmatched expertise, lowering his head and admiring just how eager your body is for him.
Before he drags his tongue along your folds, he slithers his hand down to reach for the front of his trousers, hurriedly undoing them.
It's his turn to sigh in relief as his cock is set free.
But now he misses the friction and the carpeted floor of your tent feels too rough.
His eyes roam around in search of something – anything – more comfortable.
And then he's caught off guard by your offer.
“Maybe this will help.”
A pillow.
He chuckles deviously, appreciating your creativity in moments such as these. Promptly, he takes it in his hand and positions it under him, his cock welcoming the soft surface.
“I adore that mind of yours,” he says cheekily.
You are about to voice a reply, but no word comes out when his tongue hits your entrance. 
Immediately, your hips buck and his smile never wavers.
He knows what you crave, but he will take his time even if you're already close to the edge.
After all, he's addicted to his devotion to you even if he never utters it out loud. He prefers his actions speak for themselves. Words are treacherous and deceiving. Actions speak louder.
And so he indulges in you. He indulges you, because that is what keeps him from reaching the frayed ends of his mind. 
You're what grounds him these days.
And he will ground you with him.
As such, he drags the tip along your folds, collecting your wetness and he only stops once it finds your clit.
A soft moan escapes your lips and he hopes you have it in you to keep it down so as to not wake the others. 
He locks eyes with you one last time. “Are you ready, darling?”
Your hips roll twice, but he knows you're not ready. You never are for the pleasure he offers to you so passionately. 
Another roll and he knows you're growing impatient, so he gives your clit a quick swipe of his tongue before he latches.
He doesn't begin suckling hard right away, as he needs to ensure he can steady you for what's to come. Both arms loop around your thighs and he allows his eyes to flutter shut, losing himself in you.
It amazes him how your body responds to him, and your hips try to find a desperate rhythm as if you're riding his cock.
The pillow under him provides enough friction for him to roll his own hips, eager to match your tempo.
He could feel the wetness drenching the fabric, but he can't bring himself to care.
Your hand finds his curls and he growls against your clit as you tug gently, but evidently craving more.
And more he gives you.
He's sucking more fiercely this time, taking his time to savour the swell in between his teeth. From this angle, he can feel your wetness coating his chin. He can't directly feel it, but he just knows you're clenching desperately around nothing.
Maybe he should take it slower.
Maybe he should pry you open with two of his fingers, even though you're wet enough to take a third one.
But the unexpected friction caused by the pillow is begging to edge him beyond belief.
Is it from the blood he drank? Is he just so ridiculously aroused? Why is your clit so swollen this time? Is it from his incessant suckles? 
His mind turns into haze and he decides he's not looking for any logical answers.
He simply allows his hips to move on their own accord, matching the face with each suckle.
“Astarion… Gods…” 
You're fortunate his mouth is kept busy, or he'd hurl a snarky reply. Gods have no place here. The delicacies of carnal bliss are reserved for those who tread the earth.
He's the only one who'd ever worship you, and you'd worship him right back, because that's how it's meant to be.
Precum drips from his tip at an alarming rate. He's too hard. He's too aroused. His body is seeking to be inside yours.
But he decided against it.
No.
He wants to see you unravel for him and in front of him.
His eyes open once again and he takes in the sight of your body undulating. Skin all flushed and eyes read to drop close as you near the precipice.
As always, his latch is impeccable. He never lets go and takes pride in leaving you dripping for him.
A few droplets run down his chin and dangle from it, bestowing upon him the most enticing silent praise he could ask for.
He knows you're close when your fingers close around his curls, desperately rocking your hips against him.
A low growl of approval rumbles in his chest and he's starting to struggle to keep his pace.
He has to find a way to still his hips before you reach your climax in fear you'll drag him along with you far too soon.
And so he does.
This time, he wants to see it.
He wants to see you as you come for him.
He's mostly perplexed that you found a way to muffle your moans, your shirt rolled up and captured in between your teeth, granting him the privileged view of your heaving breasts and hardened nipples.
Momentarily, his hips threaten to buck driven by pure instinct.
But he manages to hold back.
And when he's sure you're too far gone, head tilting back and legs shaking ever so slightly, does he unlatch from your clit.
He pulls back enough to witness the first sets of contractions course through your body. 
Wetness drips from his chin, and he can't tear his gaze from the mesmerising way your entrance clenches rhythmically before him.
He's felt those contractions many times. He is well aware of just how vicious and relentless they can be around his cock, never failing to draw every last drop of his cum deep inside you.
Your muffled cries and the way your hips still momentarily, are all he needs to get lost in his own pleasure again.
He props himself high enough to place his hips at the right angle, rolling them urgently against the soft fabric of the pillow.
He's so close… so deliciously close.
Your taste lingers on his tongue and the vision of you still writhing under him holds his gaze almost painfully.
Your fingers ease on his curls and he feels the familiar tightening of his balls warning him that he's about to reach the point of no return. 
It comes and overtakes his body so violently his mind blanks for a brief moment, as his mouth drops open.
He wants to groan and growl and hiss, but no sound comes out.
The friction is so overwhelming, he can't help but to lose balance, his lips finding your swollen clit once again.
And just like before, he latches instinctively and you try to jerk away from him, definitely being hit with a sting of oversensitivity. 
He comes undone, suckling on you harder than ever before.
Ropes of cum spill from him rhythmically, his own contractions taking over. He can feel the fabric underneath him drench with each thrust, and he vaguely wonders how much of it he still has left in him.
Your clit is now the only thing grounding him as he rides out his climax and, in the far corner of his hazy mind, he's thankful that you eased into him once again, granting him the solace he is seeking so desperately.
There's only so much he can withstand as his senses are flooded with overwhelming pleasure, and he finds himself unlatching and almost slumping against your lower abdomen.
He's spent.
Utterly spent.
He thinks he hears a tender giggle, but maybe it's simply his mind playing tricks on him.
With effort, he hoists himself along your body, collapsing, the side of his face resting against your stomach.
He wants to say something, but he's rendered silent by the aftershock of his climax.
And that's when he feels your fingers again, raking along his scalp and through unruly curls. 
“Are you leaving?”
He says nothing.
Your fingertips work their magic along his skin and he's sure you can lull him into a trance if you so wished. 
You're too powerful and he's too in love with you to care.
“Astarion.”
Your voice is low and sweet and he hums in return, arm wrapped around your waist.
“Can we stay like this for a while?”
Who's he to deny you of it? Or himself?
He's sweaty and his cock drenched in cum and precum and you're a mess yourself. Hardly the epitome of romance.
Or maybe he's wrong because when you bring a soft piece of cloth to his temple and drag it along his face, he suddenly gets it.
He finally understands why you want him to stay.
Why it makes sense.
His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your tenderness and adoration. 
You hum a soft tune under your breath, cleaning him up.
Face and neck first.
“Can you shift higher?” you ask.
He realises your intentions and lifts his head to stare at you.
“You don't have to.”
All you do is offer him a smile. Your smile. “I want to. Allow me, lover.”
No one has ever taken care of him. No one has ever bothered to. Not until you. 
He silently does what you asked, too stunned to come up with a clever tease.
His eyes flutter shut in what comes close to embarrassment. For some reason, he feels more exposed than ever when you wrap the cloth around his cock.
“Tell me if it gets too much,” you say, your voice but a whisper.
He immediately shakes his head. “Not with you.”
A hiss parts his lips as you tenderly take care of him.
Astarion rests his head just above your breast and 
“Do you wish to talk?” he asks.
Your lips find their way through his damp curls, placing a kiss atop his head.
“Do you want to?”
He chuckles, feeling his cock soften in your hand – definitely a first. “I fear I'm too drained to do so.”
“Silence it is,” you say and he feels your warm breath against his skin.
Not just any silence.
Comfortable silence.
The rare type old romance books mention in passing and that many seek to no avail.
But he's found it because he's found you.
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babyleostuff · 5 months
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when their strong independent s/o suddenly wants to be babied | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
oh, he’d love that. as much of a baby as he is, cheol adores taking care of people that he loves, especially you, and especially because you’re never the one to lean on others or ask for help. so the second he notices you’re a lot more touchy and that your gaze follows him everywhere, his arms are wrapped around you in an instant, and he’s asking if you need any food, water, more pillows, or if the TV is too loud, while running his hand gently through your hair. he would never tell you this, but he’d be so thankful to you that you trusted him enough to let your guard down around him and allow yourself to depend on him a bit more sometimes (if it was his way, he’d like you to be a bit less independent, because he knows how tiresome it sometimes is, but nonetheless, cheol would always be there for you).
❥ jeonghan 
he’s already babying you, even when you're being your cold and independent self. he doesn’t care that you want to open that jar, he’s going to take it out of your hands and do it himself. you’re sitting on the couch while watching a movie with a popcorn bowl separating you? no problem, jeonghan moves it out of the way and pulls you down, so you could rest on his chest, while he’s throwing a blanket around you. he doesn’t do that because he thinks you’re incapable of taking care of yourself - he knows you can, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t depend on him. besides, when he notices how exhausted you are but still doesn't want to depend on someone else, it makes him angry. so, be as independent as you wish, jeonghan is still going to baby the shit out of you. 
❥ joshua
same as jeonghan, you’re already getting that princess treatment, darling. but unlike hannie, joshua does that unconsciously - he doesn’t pay attention to the way he pets your hair whenever you succeed in something, how he grabs your waist to move you out of the way, so that he could reach for that plate, or how he always made sure you’d walk on the inner side of the sidewalk. he knew you were an independent, strong person, but he wouldn’t let you carry all of your burdens yourself, and he’d try to help you in any way he could to make it a bit easier for you. whenever you got a bit more baby around him, joshua would activate his physical touch and cling to you like a koala, because he knew how much, deep down, you enjoyed his clingy, and puppy like side.
❥ jun 
give him a second, because he’s freaking out. will turn into the fluffiest fluffball to ever fluff, because he wants nothing more than to make you happy when you’re in need of a bit more love and comfort. but before smothering you with his kisses and cuddles, jun makes sure you’re feeling fine mentally and physically - he sits you down, takes your hands in his, and when you assure him that you just need to be taken care of for a bit, he goes into teddy bear mode. He loves it when you depend on him, when you snuggle a bit closer to him in search for warmth, when you follow him around everywhere, when you link your pinky fingers when you’re out for a stroll. 
❥ hoshi 
giggling and kicking his feet. this man lives for taking care of you, even if his methods are sometimes a bit questionable. he loves your independent side, soonyoung finds it so cool that you are able to take such good care of yourself, but it makes him sulk sometimes, because “why don’t you depend on me a bit more?” so, whenever you are in baby mode, he tries to make the most of it - hug the shit out of you, follow you wherever he can, squish your cheeks, and call you corny pet names that would usually make you puke. but he would also be a bit more protective over you whenever you let your guard down like that, because he knew you were extra vulnerable in times like these. so, he’d bundle the both of you into a blanket burrito, and hide you from the world for a while. 
❥ wonwoo 
silently screaming, crying, throwing up. you are just as independent as he is, and sometimes he worries that you don’t consider him someone you can depend on or lean on. that’s why moments like these - when you are a bit more clingy and touchy, when you play with his hair a lot more, when you come waddling into his room with a blanket around you to sit beside him and watch him game - it reassures him that he does a good job as a boyfriend, and he tries his best to comfort you, without making you feel like you’re being weak for letting your guard for a bit. the biggest reward for him was when you fell asleep next to him while he was reading you a book in bed. 
❥ woozi 
in the past, woozi was a bit insecure about being the caregiver - he wasn’t sure he was the person you needed to baby you, or give you extra comfort and love. but after you made multiple threats, and changed his password to his studio, he kind of got the idea that yes, he was the person you needed. woozi secretly loved how you leaned on him from time to time, it gave him a peace of mind that you could rest a bit in his presence, and let go of your strong persona, and just be your adorable, little self. he always kept extra blankets in his studio in case you came pouting and asking for cuddles, so he could always have something to wrap around you and keep you warm. 
❥ dk 
endless cuddles incoming. once he notices that you want to be taken care of and babied, there is no way he’s going to let go of you. even if you’d want to get up for a glass of water, worry not, your puppy of a boyfriend would be right behind you, his (buff) arms wrapped securely around your waist, just in case you tried to get away from him. but he’d also understand that you usually acted like this when you were emotionally and physically tired, so he would make sure to talk to you, and comfort you in any way you needed (even though you insisted that cuddles were enough, he knew you were silently asking for a couple of kisses, and for him to sing to you, so you could finally rest without worry). 
❥ mingyu 
puppy nr. 2. the second he’d see you following him with a pout on your face, he’d know it was his time to put on his best husband act, and baby the shit out of you. he’d lift you up without saying anything (giggling in his mingoo giggles), carry you to the kitchen, place you on the counter, stand between your legs, playfully peck your lips, and get ready to make you your favourite ramyeon. mingyu would make a total fool out of himself just to make you laugh, because to him, as long as you were happy and smiling, it was all that mattered. after eating, he’d bundle you up in the most oversized hoodie he owned, wrap you up in a blanket, and put on a scary movie, just so he could cuddle you really, really, really close (his eyes were closed for the whole duration of the movie). 
❥ minghao 
cue in heart eyes. hao’s acts of service or physical touch were always low-key - you always knew he was there for you, but he didn’t push his love into other people’s faces. but, when you needed to be babied, when you needed that extra warmth and comfort form your boyfriend, minghao was always more happy than to turn into your personal teddy bear. he loved how independent you were, it made him so proud that you could take care of yourself, but at the same time it made him worry that you were draining yourself too much. that’s why when you needed to be babied, YOU WERE BABIED. whatever you’d ask for, he’d do it in an instant, no questions asked - it could be the most stupid thing and he’d do it with a smile on his face. 
❥ seungkwan 
mom mode activated. at first he’d get a bit worried that you were acting a lot more baby with him, letting him hug you without side eyeing him, or letting him squish your cheeks without you throwing a tantrum. but after he’d catch on to what was going on, seungkwan would make you sit at the dinner table while frantically looking through the cabinets searching for your favourite ramyeon. after making you some food, and not burning the house down, he’d take you out on a walk around the neighbourhood, your arms linked, while he rambled about all of the funny stuff that happened during practice, to take your mind off of your worries. when you were in baby mode, you and him were like two magnets - you could not be separated, and even if you were, you immediately found your way back to each other.     
❥ vernon 
first of all, it would make him feel so appreciated that you turned to him when you needed to be babied. vernon didn’t get to be the caregiver often, but whenever he’d notice that you needed a bit more comfort and love than usual, he’d try his best, because he wanted to be someone you could always depend on. you’d either do something very calming and relaxing like cuddle under a blanket and watch a movie, or if you were feeling more bold, you’d bake (which with vernon means one thing - a disaster). whatever you decided to do, vernon made sure to always stay by your side, his hand on you hip, because you in baby mode also required him to include a bit more of physical touch, which to be honest he was very grateful for, because usually he was too shy to initiate it himself.  
❥ chan 
he’s been waiting for this. i believe chan thrives off of being the caretaker, so he’d be prepared and ready - pillows stacked up on your bed, comforters to keep you warm, all of your favourite snacks and movies, and his arms to keep you close to his body through the whole night. because he didn’t get to baby you often, he’d make the most out of the times that it happened, and it would honestly make him so so happy that even though you’re this strong and independent person, you still allowed him to take care of you from time to time. he’d finally be able to thank you for all of the times that you had taken care of him.
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @dkswife @marisblogg @whatsgyud @aaniag @jeonghansshitester @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @soul-is-a-strange-kid @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @f4iryjjosh @isabellah29 @hafsah-ali @mrswonwooo @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @chillseo @bangantokchy @hrts4hanniehae
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norrizzandpia · 13 days
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this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!
Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)
Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.
Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol
Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx
If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.
“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.
Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”
Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”
When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.
Unknown Number
Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…
Y/n
Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.
The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.
Unknown Number
WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?
Unknown Number
YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN
Unknown Number
If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit
Unknown Number
LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE
Unknown Number
Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder
Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.
Y/n
You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!
His response was immediate.
Unknown Number
Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?
Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.
Y/n
*Image Attached*
Y/n
I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.
The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.
Unknown Number
Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.
Unknown Number
You are very pretty tho
Y/n giggled,
Y/n
Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.
Unknown Number
Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.
Y/n
How do I know this for sure?
Unknown Number
Trust me?
Y/n
Okay, ig. What’s your name?
The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.
“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.
However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.
Unknown Number
Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?
Y/n
I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)
Y/n
Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny
🏎️
The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.
Bob!
Good morning :)
Bob!
Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?
Y/n
Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.
Bob!
GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n
Y/n
Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol
Y/n
I live in London! What about you?
Bob!
Monaco
Y/n
Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?
Bob!
NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho
Y/n
Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.
Bob!
😭
Y/n
No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces
Bob!
Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.
Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.
She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.
Y/n
Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.
Bob!
Ok! text me when you’re free?
Y/n
yesss
There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.
Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.
Bob!
Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!
Y/n
sry, i just got home.
Bob!
Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??
Y/n
yeah
Bob!
Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you
Y/n
that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?
Bob!
you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times
Y/n
thats love fr
Y/n
but yeah its been a long day
Bob!
oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?
Y/n
Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.
Bob!
Talk to me about it then <3
Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.
Y/n
it’s ok. Thank you tho bob
Bob!
Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?
Y/n
no one?
Bob!
you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.
Y/n
We barely know each other.
Bob!
Do i look like i care?
She laughs and types,
Y/n
Bob, I don’t even know what you look like
Bob!
We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything
Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.
Y/n
People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?
There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.
Bob!
I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.
There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.
Y/n
Thank you. That means a lot.
Bob!
Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.
Y/n
When were you experiencing it?
Bob!
A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.
Y/n
You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.
Bob!
There’s not much to tell, Y/n.
Y/n
You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?
Bob!
I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.
Y/n
VAGUE
Bob!
Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs
Her eyes twinkle,
Y/n
Haha yeah right brotha
Y/n
That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.
Bob!
Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.
Y/n
You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?
Bob!
If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha
She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.
“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.
She breathes, “Bob?”
There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.
“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”
He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”
The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”
“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”
Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.
Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.
“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.
Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”
She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”
He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”
The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.
Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.
🏎️
“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.
“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.
Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”
Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”
Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”
“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.
Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”
Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.
“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.
Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”
“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.
Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”
Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”
Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.
“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.
“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.
Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”
He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”
She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.
Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”
Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”
“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.
Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”
Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”
Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”
As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”
Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.
Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.
“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.
Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”
Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”
Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”
Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”
“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.
Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.
🏎️
There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.
Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.
“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?
But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.
Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.
A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.
Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.
This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.
Robert Dancing does not exist.
🏎️
Unknown
Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?
Y/n
Everything is fine.
Unknown
Can I call you now?
Y/n
I’m busy.
Unknown
It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?
Unknown
Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?
Y/n
Stop messaging me.
Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.
Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”
She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”
Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”
“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.
“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.
Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”
A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”
A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.
“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.
He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”
She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n, I-”
She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”
A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”
Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.
He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.
What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”
With that, she hangs up the phone.
Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.
No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.
“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.
A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”
Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.
“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.
Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”
Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.
Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.
It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.
The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.
From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.
Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.
She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.
Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”
The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”
Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”
He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.
Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.
Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.
With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.
🏎️
The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.
She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.
He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”
It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.
When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.
“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”
The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.
The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.
The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.
He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”
Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”
He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.
Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
He lifts his head slowly, “What?”
At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”
A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.
He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.
“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.
She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”
Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”
“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.
Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”
She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”
He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”
Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.
At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”
He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”
Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”
He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.
Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”
Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”
🏎️
The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.
Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.
So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.
“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.
A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”
Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.
When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.
Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.
He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.
He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”
He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.
The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.
Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.
“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.
She doesn’t know who he is.
He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.
“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.
Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.
“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.
“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.
“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.
Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”
What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.
“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.
She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.
“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.
“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”
Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”
He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”
Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”
Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”
Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.
“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.
He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”
Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”
His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”
She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”
Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”
Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”
She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.
🏎️
Y/n
Can you stop blowing up my phone
Bob <3
Why????? I’m bored baby
Y/n
im at work girly
Bob <3
girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me
Y/n
I think you might be obsessed with me
Bob <3
i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?
Y/n
girl
She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.
“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.
She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”
“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.
Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”
Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”
Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”
Lando hums, “An hour?”
“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”
Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”
She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”
He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”
“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.
He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”
She’d never get tired of saying it.
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highonakuweeds · 1 month
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POV: Your Alastor's wife and it's October
(A/N: I didn't read anything beforehand, so if you see any weird mix ups of whatever, I'm sure your brain can ignore it thank you <3)
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“My dear!” Alastor exclaimed towards you, who was at the bar, conversing with Husk. Your attention changed so that Alastor had it fully, which made Husk roll his eyes and chug a drink down. “Mon amour! How are you this hellish evening? I haven’t seen you all day.”
“Ah, yes well,” Alastor tugged on his coat, his grin somewhat strained. It wasn’t obvious for the majority of the others, but it was to his wife. “Just some irritating demons on the streets, is all; nothing to worry about.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Alastor, I know what that face means.” 
He raised a curious brow. “Do you, now?”
“Mhm.” You sipped the last of your champagne, and thanked Husk for the drink, earning a nod from him. “It means you’re horny.”
“What? Noo!” Alastor attempted to brush off, his eyebrows stitched with disbelief. “You know how I am about anything sexual, dear. I—” “Yes, yes, it’s not really your thing; we all know that. However,” light flickered through your gaze as you bore into Alastor’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t escape that month you hate so much.”
Alastor remained quiet, his eye twitching. You shrugged. “I mean, hey, if you want to wait it out, suit yourself. People will ask where you’ve gone, and you don’t want them to give in to curiosity, do you?”
He hesitated before grunting, grabbing your wrist, causing you to yelp. “Fine.” 
As your giggles of amusement echoed in the halls, Charlie tilted her head. “What’s he going to do to her? Oh, no, I hope it isn’t anything horrible…”
Angeldust snorted, swirling his pink cocktail before sipping. “Nah, he’s probably gonna fuck’er.”
“What!?”
“Angeldust!” Vaggie exclaimed, causing the spider demon to look at her in surprise. “What? You saw the way he looked at her, plus the way she was teasin’. I thought it was obvious.”
Cherri bomb grinned. “No shit they’re gonna fuck. But it’s kinda weird, don’t cha think? The edgelord finally wants to bang someone.”
Charlie thought about it. “Well, they are married.”
“Wait, they’re fuckin’ what now?”
“Wow, is this month that tough you gotta drag me to your room, Alastor?” You teased, causing him to groan. “You don’t even want to know how much I had to endure for the past couple of days.” He replied. 
Your brows furrowed. “Honey, if it was hurting you, you could’ve asked me way sooner. You know I would’ve been more than happy to help you.”
Alastor laughed, locking his door, and whisking the swamp side of his room away to not let anything disturb them. “Of course, you would’ve been, darling; you’re always so willing to help. Speaking of which, would you be a doll and soundproof the area?”
You cocked an eyebrow, obliging nonetheless. With a flick of your wrist, blue wisps coated his bedroom, leaving some sort of shiny residue scattered in the room. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was going to be a rough night for the both of us…”
“Oh, shut it.” Alastor mumbled before walking towards you. He crashed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks with fervor and slight desperation. You let out a noise of surprise before giggling and allowing your husband to do whatever he needed to do. You snaked your arms around Alastor’s neck, scratching the base of his ears, just how he liked it.
He let out a soft sigh of bliss, his steps making the both of them stumble onto the bed, with him on top of your. Before, Alastor normally just locked himself somewhere private, usually his radio tower, until this stupid cycle wore off. But now that his wife, his technical mate, was right where he was currently residing, it was way more difficult than it was before to be cooped up.
He had attempted to take matters into his own hands, both literally and figuratively, and the only thing it gave him was sheer shame and embarrassment, so he had stopped trying. So, to have you below him was such a relief.
And yet, he wanted more. He needed more. 
He needed to taste you, and mark you, and show every single demon that came your way that you were his wife. No one else’s.
Alastor pulled back from the kiss, planting small yet precise marks on your jaw, causing you to softly moan so quietly it riled him up even more. 
He tried his best to keep his composure calm, to hold himself back. But he truly couldn’t with how foggy his mind made everything become. Alastor sunk his teeth into your neck, right below your pulse. You let out an animalistic groan, your back off of the mattress already. “Alastor, love, calm down—”
“Apologies, my dear, but I don’t think I can.” He responded tightly, licking the wound he inflicted fervently, shuddering as the metallic taste hit his tongue. You chuckled, sweeping his hair away from his face. “Alright, then. Do whatever you need to, sweetheart.”
Alastor tried to think clearly, to regain any sort of control he had in his sexual desires, but he so miserably failed. The urge to bite you and mark you and make everyone know that you were his overruled his mind. It was the only thing he could ever think straight at that moment.
“Mine…” He muttered, kissing and sucking on almost every single part of your neck. His hand had other plans, though, as it traced your figure until it reached your hips, and it squeezed hard. 
You let out a yelp and a moan, your breath practically nonexistent as you chuckled. “I’m yours, darling.”
His hand, even if it was just one, grounded you to the bed. You found yourself unable to move, not that you cared, anyway. Alastor rarely needed you in this sort of way, and to have him like this, so desperate, so needy, it made you feel things.
You were not quite sure what was going on hearing-wise, but you felt yourself saying Alastor’s name as a plea. He groaned, pulling himself away from your neck with a strained struggle. He drank you in, his smile still present. You almost laughed as his eyes didn’t match that, though, since they were looking at your outfit in disgust. He adjusted his position to balance himself before snapping it away, leaving you bare.
You gasped at the drop of temperature, causing you to scoff. “Alastor! At least warn a demon.” His deer ears twitched as he descended onto your collarbone, peppering kisses everywhere. “I apologize again, (name). I just…” He took a deep breath in and felt his eyelids fall heavy. “You’re intoxicating…”
At the mention of your name, you stirred slightly, feeling the heat pool down to your core. Alastor must have noticed this, however, since he started trailing kisses around your chest, his favorite part being the underside of it. He nipped at the skin and sucked like a dog in heat.
Well, a deer in rut, but one must digress.
You squirmed in your position as he bit down right before he resumed his trail of kisses down to your stomach. He could feel your arousal like it was his own, and that put him in quite the predicament.
“Aren’t you going to take care of yourself first, Al? You’re practically bursting.” You quietly asked, a hand running through red tufts of hair that was tickling your torso. A low growl escaped Alastor’s throat. “I will; have some patience, love.” Me? You’re literally bulging. “But right now, I need a taste of you…”
Your eyebrows twitched as they creased together. “What are you trying to do—” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Alastor planted a soft kiss on your clit, making your jump. “If I go too far,” Alastor started, gazing up at you through his bangs. “Tell me.”
You nodded, knowing that he never would go too far, and if he did, he would be too busy enjoying his meal to understand that. 
Alastor’s grin just stretched wider before probing his tongue into you, causing you to shudder with a groan at the feeling. You played with his ears, your breath being stolen away. Honestly, if it weren’t for his cannibalistic and homicidal instincts, he would’ve landed a spot in Heaven with how gentlemanly he was, giving you pleasure before indulging in his own.
Alastor was fully aware of the growing tent in his pants, but he paid it no mind, which he was glad he was at least able to do. With that, he knew his mind hadn’t succumbed to the worse thoughts that he dreaded the most.
He lapped and sucked up all of the juices you had to offer, his pace unforgiving and sloppy. You could feel your own claws puncture the mattress with how tight your grip was on it, but you were sure Alastor wouldn’t care later on. He doesn’t really…sleep.
With how quickly Alastor was working against you, you felt that knot in your stomach appear just as fast, making you curse under your breath. For someone who doesn’t really like anything inherently sexual, he sure is a master at it.
Alastor felt it. He felt you getting closer, and he wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in pleasure all because of him, and nothing, or no one, else. The hand that was gripping your thigh to the point of wounds hooked your leg onto his shoulder for the time being, holding it in place as he quickened his pace.
The only thing you could do was whimper and plead and whine. And every single syllable that dropped from your mouth went straight to his arousal, and he cursed internally. A string of violent curses escaped his wife’s lips as you tugged on Alastor’s hair, which led him to hiss in both the pain and pleasure it shamefully gave him. 
“Close—Alastor, wait—!” You managed to cry before snapping, waves of pleasure crashing into you intensely. You let out a demonic groan as Alastor drank you until your high faded.
Your head flopped onto the fluffy pillows of Alastor’s bed, staring at the red head of hair just where your abdomen started. The radio demon rested his head on the inner side of your thigh, catching his breath slightly, which caused a bit of feedback from the voice effect he always had on.
“Are you satisfied?” You asked, tilting your head. Despite the fact that Alastor kept smiling, his brows twitched. He was far from satisfied. 
You laughed, and Alastor could hear a bit of nervousness laced into it. Not that kind that was associated with fear, but the kind that was associated with excitement. 
It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.
You sat up properly before crawling to be in front of Alastor. “It’s quite unfair that I’m the only one bare right now.” You teased, undoing the buttons of his coat. Though, even as you did, he knew how much you enjoyed that power difference.
Alastor didn’t resist as you unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt underneath. You had stopped undressing him when his shirt hit the strain in his pants, and he felt an annoyed grunt scratching his throat at the lack of friction. “(Name), dear.”
“Hm?”
“You have to stop teasing…”
You scoffed out a laugh. “Is the radio demon attempting to beg right now?” Alastor’s face immediately turned bright red, the cold air that was hitting his bare chest not helping him, either. “Chérie, don’t make me do this—” “What, beg?”
You had figured out how to make it more fun for you, and more cruel for him.
It made him so embarrassingly hard.
Your positions were now flipped, since Alastor had tried (and failed) to cage you in, and so when he crawled towards you, you swiftly went behind him. So now, his back was towards the headboard, his ears pinned back slightly. Without his coat, you could really have a nice view of his small deer tail which was currently tucked in between his legs, barely covering the bulge in front of his pants.
His grin twitched. “So, how are you planning on taking advantage of our current situation?”
You laughed, a finger to his lips to shush him, which made an irk mark appear on his forehead. “Oh, dear Alastor, have some patience! You wanted me to have the same thing just minutes before, right?” Your finger swept to his chin to lift it up as you leaned in closer. So close Alastor heard your pulse.
Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips mere centimeters apart. Alastor sighed, ready to feel the sensation of your soft lips against his, but he only felt the cold air hit it instead. He opened his eyes to find you grinning with an eyebrow raised. His brows dropped as his smile strained, just as much as his pants were. Alastor cleared his throat before giving you an amused gaze. “Do you really think that would work on me?”
You shrugged, leaning forward to straddle yourself on him. He cursed under his breath (a rare scene, honestly. You savored every moment) as he felt himself buck against you. “Well, it did; there’s no real debate about it, hun.” You cupped one of his cheeks, in which he melted into, while tracing the outline of his deer ears with your other hand. You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry, your ears are just…absolutely divine.”
Alastor fought back every single moan and whine that you were pulling out of him from playing with his ears. “The things you do to me…” He whispered as he grinded against you slightly, that needed friction making him see stars. 
You almost lost self control at that statement. Just the way Alastor was slowly breaking under you purely because you were touching and prodding at his ears gave you such a power surge. Your hands made their way to his pants, where they undid them and freed Alastor, who had just hissed at the cold air hitting his cock.
You stared and ogled at the sight before you, your hand wrapping itself around it. Alastor tensed, his shoulders raised slightly. He let out a shaky breath, watching his own chest rise and fall to calm him down.
He was already leaking, and you used that to your advantage. You stroked painfully slowly, causing him to shiver. You glanced at Alastor’s expression with a sly smirk. “You’re enjoying this a lot, dear.”
Your tone was mocking; Alastor heard it. He tightly chuckled. “How would you know?”
“Alastor. You’re so hard right now.”
“Oh.” 
You snorted before increasing your pace against his cock. Alastor cleared his throat, feeling his mind fog with desire and lust, the two things he really wished hadn’t plagued his mind too much.
You felt a tentacle wrap around your left thigh, and your breath hitched. “Al?-” It started to massage your pussy, making you gasp and grip Alastor’s cock a bit too tightly.
He grunted in both pain and pleasure, that brief moment of extreme bliss washing away again. “(Name), love, I think you should calm down this time.”
“Well, it’s not my fault your stupid tentacles start to just—” You cut yourself by sighing in relief, the same tentacle you were referring to going in circles against your already sensitive clit. “I swear.” You muttered, quickening your pace against Alastor.
Suddenly, you stopped your hand, cursing when the tentacle wouldn’t do the same. At that lack of motion, Alastor swore under his breath, his grin showing annoyance as he grunted. Yet even with shocks of pleasure spreading across you body, you kept a steady face, the smile on your face absolutely shit-eating. “Is someone annoyed already? Doesn’t feel good when pleasure’s just taken from you, does it?” You swiped you thumb against his tip which made Alastor stir. He let out a low, dragged-out moan at the sensation. you repeated the motion, amused at the way Alastor took a sharp inhale and exhale, as if regulating his senses.
Alastor hated the way you pouted at him as if he were some pitiful creature. “Awh, does someone crave what he wants?” You scoffed, swallowing a gulp of saliva as the tentacle on your pussy quickened its pace. you attempted to think of something, anything, that could postpone your orgasm.
Ah, you knew.
Angeldust said something about Valentino having a waterboarding kink. Honestly, the thought of Valentino was enough.
You grinned, tilting your head as you set your pace to be irregular. When you knew Alastor was at the edge, you stopped, then when you knew that it subsided, you would continue. “You thought I wouldn’t make you beg for it?”
Alastor couldn’t help the lewd noises he was making, letting out strangled moans and whines and huffs. Just who do you think you are, making the radio demon beg for you?
Well, you are his wife.
Alastor tried to fight the urge to give in, but the way you were teasing him and playing with his pleasure made him want to snap. He averted your gaze as he muttered something incoherent, but you knew what it was.
You slowed your pace on his cock again, tilting your head in feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that. You better speak up.” Immediately after you spoke, you bit your lip and cursed internally. You were so desperately close because of what Alastor’s tentacles were doing to you. Hell, you weren't even sure if Alastor knew that his tentacles were pleasing you to the brink of insanity.
Alastor’s pride and ego got the better of him, though, as he mumbled it again, just a bit louder.
“Alastor.” You warned. “Speak. Up.” You quickened your strokes before slowing them down again, smiling as you got the reaction you wanted from Alastor.
“Hhngh, please, darling…” He moaned, his eyelids heavy. Alastor’s grin twitched once more in annoyance. “Please, finish what you started…”
You were going to say something before you felt you coming close. you cursed under your breath, something you didn’t know if Alastor heard you or not. And just as you was about to reach the highest peak, 
The tentacle against your pussy stopped its rubbing, and you whined, arching you back. You were grateful for it, though. You could tease Alastor even more.
“Awh, Alastor,” you taunted. “Surely you can do better than that…right?” You placed a kiss beside the tip, and Alastor suppressed (but horribly failed) the need to moan. “Beg like you mean it.” 
Alastor accidentally whined, his eyebrow twitching once he heard himself. “Please, darling… don’t tease me like this…” You gazed into Alastor’s eyes, a look of mischief on your face as you stroked quicker. 
He moaned heavily, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck, please let me finish already…!”
Your eyebrows shot up at that crisp swear, you grin stretching from ear to ear. “You’re getting there, love.” The speed of your strokes gradually increased. Suddenly, you felt the tentacles again, but this time, it was just one. It was two.
You discreetly attempted to glance back, getting interrupted by the thicker one prodding your entrance. you gasped, trying to regain your composure and control over him. You tried your best to focus on Alastor instead. “You’re so cute when you beg; you know that, right?” You propped yourself on your elbows instead of having your other hand support you to play with Alastor’s cock more.
More quickly than he would have wanted, Alastor felt himself losing control. He let out an animalistic groan, gritting his teeth. His shoulders tensed once more as he felt himself getting close. He bucked his hips into your hands, the friction making him whimper ever so slightly. “Please…please, please, please please…”
You had never heard Alastor so whiny, so helpless. It was unlike him, just allowing you to assert yourself in this kind of situation. But hey, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it.
You should visit more often.
The hand closer to his tip massaged it with the thumb, making Alastor cry out in response. His breath was shallow and ragged, and his voice was breaking. His radio filter was long gone, and just the sound of his real voice made you go crazy.
You felt yourself nearing your climax, too. With how quickly the two tentacles were either massaging or pumping into you, you realized it was inevitable.
You decided it would be ideal if you came together.
You immediately quickened your pace against him, the fact his whole intimidating facade was gone with how he was muttering pleas made your heart pump, if undead hearts could do so.
Alastor felt kisses against his inner thigh, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a cry of your name, strings and strings of white translucent fluid released itself from his cock. His hearing was compromised with a ringing sound, but he heard you moan his name out just a couple of seconds after him, your grip against him tightening as you never stopped stroking.
His breath hitched as he realized that you weren't going to stop. “Wait, (Name)—” He whined, his head hitting the pillow behind him. It was too much; the feeling, the pleasure, just everything. He hadn’t even touched himself in decades, so to just have someone stroking him even after he came felt painfully pleasurable.
Thankfully, you stopped after some time, your grip loosening as you caught your breath. Somewhere during that time frame, your right hand made its way to his thigh, acting as a pillow for your cheek. your eyes trailed down Alastor’s twitching cock, and you grinned, liking a stripe from base to tip.
He shivered, his eyes closed as he held his forehead. He placed his hand down onto the mattress and… Why were there punctures in it?
Just as Alastor was about to ask, he noticed movement behind you, his brows furrowed. Then, he saw it. He saw the shadowy tentacles he knew were his.
His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the now flushed out you who was half-lidded with your ass in the air. “My dear?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Why are my tentacles…out?”
“Huh?” You glanced back and sweatdropped as you finally realized just how thick they were. No wonder You felt full. “Oh, they–” You cleared your throat. “They were…fucking me. I thought you knew that.”
Alastor’s eye twitched before he let out a chuckle. “Well, I apologize for that, dear. Though, I hope you can still take more, since,” he sat up straight, helping you fix your posture before picking you up by your hips and straddling you against him, your pussy just mere centimeters on top of his cock. “I’ll be handling you now.” Alastor glanced up to look you in the eyes. “Do you consent?”
“You know I always do.”
Alastor huffed out a laugh. “Whatever you say, darling.” He strained himself as he held every ounce of the animalistic urge that he had kept constrained as he made you sink down onto him. A guttural moan forced itself out and he started to grip your hips tighter, using that as a way to bounce you on his cock.
You always knew and understood how mating seasons work, from their cycles to the subject’s attitude during. Well, you needed to read about it; one can never have too much knowledge, right?
You weren't sure about one thing, though: if demons experienced the same kind of cycle that their animal counterpart did. Well, this explains it.
It was obvious that Alastor was attempting to help you adjust to his throbbing dick but just the idea of being inside you drove him towards the edge. He bucked his hips at the same rhythm you bounced on him.
Your mind was clouded with lust and pure bliss. Alastor’s cock was kissing your cervix one too many times, and it sent you to absolute ecstasy. your lips formed a lazy grin as you kissed him hungrily, causing his hips to stutter.
With no ounce of shame left in his body, he allowed himself to groan and whine at every thrust he did in you, savoring how warm everything felt. How ironically heavenly you made him feel. 
The only unfortunate thing in Alastor’s mind was the desire to breed. To fill you up until his cum splattered onto his mattress. He wanted to make a mess of you, and possibly himself in the process. Alastor needed to make sure you knew that you were his, and his alone.
Somehow his lips made their way to your neck, savagely nipping and sinking his teeth into your flesh until he tasted metal. That sweet intoxicating flavor that always drove him wild.
you dug your nails into Alastor’s back, feeling your climax rising up again. It wasn’t long until you were spewing curse words that would make a normal man break down and cry as you felt the cord in your stomach violently snap again. 
But Alastor wasn’t stopping. He started to prioritize his release the moment he slipped inside of you. His pace never faltered; in fact, it quickened at an inhuman speed, causing your gasps of air to be just hiccups.
“You’re making me see stars.” He whispered into your ear, desperate and whiny. He could feel that build up happening again, and this time, he was going to get what he wanted as quickly as possible.
Fuck, just the idea of him cumming inside of you almost broke him. He knew that since you were both sinners, you could no longer have children, but it would never hurt to try, right?
His grip against your hips tightened to ground you in place as moaned as loudly as you had ever heard him. He pumped inside of you, thrusting harshly yet slowly until he felt himself fully inside you. you gasped, feeling your pussy stretch until something absolutely huge squeezed itself inside you.
Wait, did Alastor just–
Loads and loads of cum painted your walls, filling you up to the brim. Alastor’s teeth bit your shoulder as he released inside of you. you felt your mouth dry as you finally gasped for air, involuntary moans coming out for you.
You stayed like that for a minute or two, chests heaving as you caught their breath. Alastor’s knot finally deflated, yet it felt like he didn’t want to leave the position. However, you were still at the hotel, and the others might probably be looking for them.
Even worse, they might think they did something steamy.
Well, you did, but Alastor didn’t want that thought in their heads.
He planted a kiss on your forehead, his lips slightly burning from your skin. “We should get going, my dear.” He whispered, his radio filter back on.
“Did you know you could do that?”
“Do what, love?”
you looked at him through lazy eyes. But even if you did, he could practically feel the mischief beaming through them. “Knot.”
Alastor stitched his eyebrows together, confused. “What’s…knotting?”
you tilted your head. “You don’t know how your cycles work?” He averted your gaze, his ears flopping down in embarrassment. “I’ve never really done this before, dear.”
Your grin turned devilish. “Well…”
Oh, deer (hah). It’s going to be a long night for them.
“Where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, looking around. “I’ve been trying to call him for an hour or so but I haven’t seen him.”
Angeldust snorted before it turned into a cackle. “Like I said, toots! He’s probably in his room, fuckin’ the shit outta (Name).”
“I really doubt tha–” “Good evening, everyone!” Alastor exclaimed, his usual outfit now on. His grin remained constant as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “I do apologize for not being present for the past couple of hours. I had some business to do.”
“Yeah, her.” Angeldust mumbled, a smirk on his face. He lifted his face to look at you. “How was it?”
You just smiled, tilting your head. At that, the whole crew saw what you were trying to show.
Marks and marks of bites all over your neck, bruising it a little. They were surprised that it wasn’t bleeding with how wounded it was. 
Angeldust’s mouth went agape with a smile. He wasn’t entirely serious about that statement, but for it to actually be true? This was a day he never saw coming. “Ho-holy shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize it was actually true!” 
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Text
✨Dress Up, Part 1: The Proposal✨
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IT IS DONE HOLY SHIT! Yeah, I had to change this fic 3 different times, I'm really sorry this one took so long. Hopefully you all like this one and thank you for your patience <3
Consider this a reward for kicking Vox's ass in this poll and declaring our short king the ACTUAL hottest character in Hazbin Hotel lmao
Edit: This is now going to be a multi-chapter story! Look forward to more! Thank you all for the support 💖
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer takes you dress shopping for a special night out, but for some reason he's been acting a little strange lately...
Warnings: 18+, smut, public teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v
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Lucifer excitedly told you that he wanted to take you dress shopping today. It wasn't out of the norm for you two to go out on the town and indulge on some sort of spending spree together. Plus Lucifer absolutely loved buying things for you; whether it be precious jewelry, beautiful flowers, or brand-new clothes. But you had to admit it's been a while since you've gone out, what with Lucifer spending a majority of time at the hotel assisting his daughter Charlie. You were so happy that they were able to rekindle their bond after so many years of being apart. You were more than happy to help with the hotel as well! You found ways to help Charlie with whatever she needed, which somehow ended up being more than you initially thought. It was exhausting to say the least, but you enjoyed it nonetheless! You were very much looking forward to going out today with your beloved king. And of course he was taking you to one of the most esteemed shops in all of Hell, Vivacious by Velvette. He truly spared no expense when it came to you.
But for some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was…off about Lucifer today.
He didn't seem upset or angry or anything of the sort. More like, he was scared? Or perhaps nervous about something? You couldn't think of anything that could be making him feel this way. The hotel was doing great, Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship was better than it’s ever been, and you and Lucifer have been nothing but enamored with each other. You were just clothes shopping after all. You two had been dating for some time now; you remembered how Lucifer used to be all kinds of flustered during your first few outings. You thought it was adorable the way he stumbled over his words when he brought up the newest duck he had added to his collection or when he complimented every single outfit you’ve ever worn. He still did those things, of course, but he slowly became more and more comfortable and confident around you. But today was something you’ve never seen before. The wary smiles he’s been giving throughout day, the jitteriness of his movements anytime you approached him, his rapid speech patterns…was he hiding something from you? You intended to get to the bottom of it.
You walked down the streets of Hell with Lucifer by your side, his arm linked with yours. You stepped into the lavish shop, dresses of all kids hung from the racks: ball gowns, sun dresses, cocktail dresses; anything you could think of was there! Lucifer told you to take your time and to pick out as many as you wanted to try on while he waited for you by the dressing room. Despite the plethora of options at your fingertips, you only found yourself intrigued by a handful of dresses. Some with more material than others but you'd thought you'd give them a try regardless; you weren't shy when it came to your body.
You grabbed the three dresses that appealed to you the most and made your way towards the changing rooms. Just as he promised, you saw Lucifer standing at the end of the hall waiting for you. But he didn't seem to notice you at first, his attention was elsewhere. Next to the changing rooms was the most impressive collection of wedding dresses you'd ever seen in Hell and even on Earth, each more breathtaking than the last. You noticed Lucifer staring at the wall of dresses with an almost wishful expression, reaching out to touch one of the dresses' lacy sleeve, gently massaging it between his fingers. You smiled and quietly walked over to join him.
"They're really beautiful, aren't they?," you said, snapping him out of his trance and making him jump a bit. He smiled at you, his hand still holding onto the sleeve.
"Absolutely stunning," he beamed. Although, with the way he was looking at you, it didn't seem like he was referring to the dresses. You felt a small blush creep across your cheeks.
One of the employees walked up to you and directed you to an empty changing room. Lucifer waited outside patiently, smiling at you as you closed the sort behind you. The first dress you wanted to try on was a simple black sheath dress. Once you slipped it on, you reached behind of and attempted to grab the zipper. You can only manage to pull it up so far before it wouldn’t budge anymore, causing you to huff in frustration. Slowly, you opened the door to see Lucifer’s eager face staring back at you.
“I need your help, hon,” you admitted. “I can’t reach the zipper.”
Quickly, Lucifer stood up and followed you into the changing room. You turned your back to him and lifted your hair up and out of the way so the zipper couldn’t catch it. Lucifer placed one hand on your hip and the other on the back of your dress. You heard the zipper moving, but it only took you a second to realize it was moving in the wrong direction. Cheeky bastard, you thought to yourself.
“Up, Lucifer,” you said with a smirk, glancing at him over your shoulder. You heard a light chuckle escape him.
“Sorry, darling,” he apologized almost insincerely, peppering kisses down your neck, “can’t help myself when it comes to you.” Lethargically, he pulled the zipper up to the top, finally letting your hair fall back down. If he wanted to play games, you were more than happy to participate. Because you knew how to win. And just maybe, you could get him to admit to whatever he was keeping from you.
“I wouldn’t start something that you’re not ready to finish, sweet pea,” you threatened with a smug grin.
Before Lucifer could get a word out, you spun around and pushed him gently against the wall, eliciting a small yelp from him. You placed both of your arms on either side of his head, effectively trapping him. His eyes widened, sucking in a breath as he realized how vulnerable he was in this new position he had found himself in. His head and hands became flat against the wall as he looked into your now ravenous eyes.
“My love, p-please,” he began to stammer, “I-I didn’t want to-HNG,” you effectively cut off his meek pleas as your one hand traveled down below his belt. You maneuvered your hand up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. Nonetheless, you felt him start to harden underneath his pants almost instantly. You flashed a devious smile, but he didn’t see it, as he had screwed his eyes shut. Baring his clenched teeth, he tried desperately to hold his breath as to not make any lewd noises. You took that as a challenge, of course.
“So it’s only alright if you get to tease me, is that it, Luci?,” you questioned, leaning your head forward with your lips now pressed against his ear. “Now that doesn’t seem fair at all, does it?”
Lucifer gulped as you continued your teasing ministrations. “I’m s-sorry, sweetheart,” he looked at you doe-eyed. “P-Please don’t-mmph…don’t do this, not here. I won’t be able to hold back, not today…”
“Oh, I’m counting on that,” you retorted. “You know you’ve been acting out of sorts all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Maybe if you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll show you some mercy.”
Lucifer audibly gulped at your words. "It's…it's nothing, angel, I promise, I just-fuck," you pressed your hand in harder against the growing tent in his pants, silencing his response.
"You hesitated just now," you told him. "If that's how you want it to be, so be it. You don't have to tell me. But you're not off the hook, not by a longshot." You pulled away from him, giving him a chance to breathe normally once again. You gave a quick glance to the mirror to finally get a look at the dress you had adorned. It looked nice! But it came off as something you would wear in an office setting; not really your style. You looked back at Lucifer who was instantly frozen in place from your gaze.
"I'm not feeling this one," you remarked, "help me with the zipper?" You turned your back to him once more, feeling his hand tentatively grab the zipper. "You can only touch the dress, understand? I'm off limits."
"M-mhmm," Lucifer agreed. He behaved and only tugged the zipper down halfway until you could reach it yourself.
"Good boy."
You discarded the dress quickly, leaving you in only your lacy black bra and matching black panties. Lucifer forced himself to look away from you, trying to reach for the door handle.
"And where do you think you're going?," you asked coyly, stopping him in his tracks entirely.
“I umm, just uhh…giving you privacy?” He tentatively went for the handle again, but your arm shot out, keeping the door in its locked state.
“Oh, we’re way past decency here, Lucifer.” You maneuvered him away from the door and sat him down on the large white bench that was affixed to the wall. You leveraged your foot against the area just below his hip and rested one hand on the top of your thigh, the other on your hip. “Besides, you’re not really in any condition to be in the public view” leaning forward and shooting a quick glance down at his crotch, “now are you?”
Lucifer could only shake his head.
"Glad you agree," you smiled and pecked his lips, a pathetic little whine leaving Lucifer's throat. "I have a few more dresses to try on. You can look, but you cannot touch unless I say, alright?"
"Yes, love," he murmured obediently. You smiled and turned around to pick up the black dress you had let fall to the floor. You bent over slowly to pick it up, giving Lucifer a lovely view of your barely covered ass. You heard a deep inhale behind you followed by a shaky exhale.
You hung up the black dress and moved onto the next dress; a beautiful lavender colored Bardot dress with sleeves that hung off your shoulders. Luckily this one didn't have a zipper, you only needed to step in and shimmy it up your body. You adjusted your bra straps and hid them under the sleeves for the time being. You liked this one more than the last, you did as few twirls in front of the mirror checking every single angle.
"What do you think of this one, hon?," you asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though he was gripping that bench with just a little too much force.
"Ravishing," Lucifer breathed. You had given him permission to look, and he was taking fully advantage of your generosity. He was chopping at the bit, fighting every urge to pounce right then and there. Lucifer's eyes were hungry, his lips curled into a smile to try and hide how badly he needed you at this moment. You admired his will power…but how strong was it truly? You made your way back towards him, chuckling playfully. Without warning, your knees found their way onto the bench, now fully straddling the mess of a man beneath you.
"W-what are you-mmph!" Lucifer tried to ask you but was cut short by your lips suddenly on his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a small peck to his forehead.
"You always say just the right things, Luci," you cooed as you began to shift your hips against him. Hearing the mangled moans coming from Lucifer was nothing short of euphoric. You noticed he had released his grasp on the bench and began to move towards your hips. You gripped the back of his head, his hair firmly between your fingers, and tilted his head back gently. Lucifer grunted softly as you brought your lips to his neck. "Ah, ah, ah, what did I say, love? No touching," you scolded, now sucking and nibbling at his tender skin, desperately needing to mark him.
Lucifer whimpered and reluctantly brought his hands back to their original position on the frigid bench that paled in comparison to the feeling of your warm body that was pressed against him. "I-I can't do this f-for much longer, darling," he whimpered, "I can only h-handle- hnng, so much, I…ssshhhhhhiiittt-" Lucifer's hot breath became increasingly labored as you continued to rock your hips against his painfully growing bulge.
Just then, you heard the sound of a door closing. Someone had just entered the room next to you. With the threat of being heard now looming, you lifted yourself from his neck to see that Lucifer's eyes had turned an ominous red. It felt as if his slit black irises were staring straight into your soul, attempting to burn you from within. He was losing control fast. But you weren't done with him just yet. With a smirk, you placed a finger over his soft lips. "Shh," you whispered almost inaudibly, "you may want to keep your voice down from now on."
A low guttural growl erupted from Lucifer, not of anger, but of pure lust. His obedience hanging by the thinnest of threads as you removed yourself from his lap and stripped yourself of the purple dress. At this point, you couldn’t really care less about the dresses. This was much more entertaining.
The last dress you had grabbed was a form fitting strapless dress decorated entirely in ruby colored sequence with a long slit up the side. You held it against your body in the mirror, but something didn't look quiet right. But then in donned on you, and a devious thought had crossed your mind. You made your way over to Lucifer once more, noticing his claws were now digging into his thighs.
"Can you hold this for just a moment, dear?," you asked innocently. He looked up at you with his still crimson eyes, outstretching his hand silently. Once he was holding the garment, you reached around the back of your bra and unclasped it, letting it hit the floor with a soft thud. Lucifer's eyes became saucers, bunching up the dress in his hand with a clenched fist. Your soft and tender breasts were mere inches from his touch and yet he found he could only sit there motionless, writhing under each new temptation you threw at him.
"You…you are…" Lucifer began, finding it agonizingly difficult to steady his breathing.
You smiled and tugged the dress back from Lucifer's powerful grip. "The dress wouldn't look right with the bra on, silly! I should have brought one of my strapless ones, but oh well, live and learn!" You giggled to yourself and turned away from the fallen angel who's resolve was deteriorating with each passing moment. And with that final move, you had definitely won the game.
Or did you?
While you were mentally congratulating yourself on your perceived victory, you hadn't noticed that Lucifer had moved from his seated position, picking up every article of your clothing that you used to torment him. All you felt next was something wrap around your waist tightly. Was that…his tail?
"What the-AHH!," you tried to question, only to be pulled backwards through a portal that had been summoned, dropping the red dress in the process. The pale white dressing room vanished from sight and you were left standing in the middle of your bedroom. “Lucifer, why did you-" but you couldn’t finish your question. When you turned around, your lover was on his knees behind you, his demonic horns now on full display. He lifted his head, his eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any moment. "Oh, Luci…"
"Please forgive me, I-I'm so sorry, my angel," he cried, "I know I've been acting strange all day and I know that you know I've been keeping something from you. I swear on my immortal life that I will tell you, but I'm begging you…" you kneeled down with him, cupping his face with your hand, "no more teasing. P-please…I-I need you…"
You gave him a loving smile and brought your lips to his. He melted from your touch, grabbing at your hand that held his cheek. "You know I love you, Lucifer," you breathed as you pulled away, "I'm sorry if I took things too far back there, I never want to upset you. You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready to do so. I can wait. But first…" You stood from your kneeling position and offered him a hand up. The way his demonic form had taken over from just your teasing had you desperate for him beyond belief. Not that your previous bouts of teasing him hadn't worked you up already. You needed him too. Now.
You laid flat on you back against the soft sheets, beckoning him closer with a curl of your finger. Lucifer finally flashed you a toothy grin and in an instant, snapped his fingers, completely removing all of his clothing. Normally he liked to make a show of his undress, but you were both too far gone to care at this point. His tail swished behind him as he excitedly climbed up to join you in bed. He stared down at your crotch, licking his forked tongue across his lips. Without hesitation, he removed your panties and spread your legs apart, taking in the sight of your completely drenched pussy. He leaned down quickly and began to leave sloppy kisses and nips along your inner thighs before stopping right at your entrance.
You chuckled lightly at his eagerness to please you. "Luci, you know you don't have to do this. Especially not after what I put you through today."
Lucifer, in response, let two of his fingers slide against your folds, earning a hardy moan from you. "Trust me when I say this, darling," his voice was low, dripping with lust, "I will never deny either of us this pleasure." You felt his steamy breath against your womanhood as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes, sending a shiver down your spine. "You may want to hold on, sweetheart."
Without another word, Lucifer ran his snake-like tongue against your cunt like a starved man. You arched your back in pure ecstasy, unable to focus on anything other than the way he was making you feel. He hooked his arms underneath your legs and brought you as close to his face as physically possible, digging his claws into your soft thighs and wrapping his tail around your calf. You realized what he had meant with his last statement and reached out to grip his devilish horns. Your grasp forced a moan out of him as he worked his tongue on your sensitive nub, circling it relentlessly. You knew how skilled he was with his mouth, but it never failed to awe you every time he used it. It wasn't long before you felt a different sensation, that of two clawed finger thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
"Lu-Lucifer, fuck, f-feels so good," you whimpered in between your heavy breaths, "right-SHIT… right there, d-don't stop, please don't stop!" Your pleas only fueled Lucifer’s hunger for you and his desire to make you come undone around him. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your knuckles were turning white with the amount of force you were using to hold onto his horns. You let one hand drop to tug at Lucifer's hair, another broken moan escaping him as you did. His fingers curled up into you, hitting your g spot repeatedly as his lips sucked on your clit with reckless abandon. That coil in your stomach was on the verge of snapping. "S-so close…gonna c-cum, fuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!," was the last thing you could utter before your walls clenched around his fingers, feeling yourself pulsate with waves of pleasure. Lucifer helped you ride out your orgasm while lapping up every drop that escaped your body as if it was the nectar of the gods. Once your body finally relaxed, Lucifer removed himself from your thighs, your mess glistening off his chin. He flashed you a wicked grin before using his tongue to clean up the remains of your essence from his face.
The King of Hell crawled up the length of your body until he was hovered directly above you. "I can truly never have enough of you, my queen," he praised. Through your lustful haze, your barely rational mind latched onto what he'd just said. Queen?, you thought, he's never called me that before. Not that you minded in the slightest, you loved it, in fact. Regardless, you clearly weren't in any condition to question his choice of words. Not when you were desperate for his cock to be buried inside you already.
Lucifer caught your lips, his tongue begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. You could still taste a faint amount of yourself on his lips as your tongues met in a fiery display of passion, twisting and fighting against each other as if trying to establish dominance of the other. You pulled his head closer as he devoured you, saliva dripping down the side of your mouth as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His tail refused to recoil as it kept its grip on your lower leg. His hard on pressed against your thigh and you were becoming increasingly impatient. You whimpering against him and bucked your hips up, essentially begging for him to take you completely.
“Please…” was the only word you could force out once you pulled away from his lips. Lucifer smiled, pressing his lips against your ear just as you had done to him earlier.
“Your heart’s desire is my command,” he cooed as you finally felt that familiar pressure between your thighs that you so desperately craved. You felt the head of his cock finally press into your sopping wet cunt, slowing inching himself into you he bottomed out inside of you. You moaned together, now feeling completely whole. Together as one again. Out of nowhere, Lucifer’s wings sprang out behind him once he was fully sheathed inside of you, adding a bright angelic glow to his otherwise hellish appearance.
He was beautiful.
He laughed awkwardly, a hard blush spreading across his face. You reached up and captured his lips once more. He hummed into you, folding his wings around you, completely blocking the outside world. In that perfect moment, the only thing that existed was you and him. After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer finally began to shift his hips, pulling himself out only to thrust right back into you. Slowly at first, relishing every single mewl and whimper you let escape your throat as he rutted into you. But it wasn’t long until his pace quickened, the sound of your slapping skin driving him to the brink. He rested his forehead against yours, refusing to look away from your loving gaze. You felt that coil in your stomach begin to clench once more, making it near impossible to form any coherent sentence, the pleasure his cock was providing was overwhelming you in the best way possible. He noticed this and brough his hand between you two and started circling your already overstimulated clit. You were not going to last much longer. And you could tell his composure was falling apart at the seams as well.
"Hng…fuck…me," Lucifer stammered, his breath hitching on every word "close…I'm close, g-gonna…c-ffffuuucckkk!" He resorted to latching his sharp teeth onto your shoulder, causing small patches of blood to flow out as he came, his hot seed painting your walls white. His wings twitched and spasmed when he finished inside you. His orgasm coupled with his hard thrusts and torturing of your sensitive nub pushed you over the edge for a second time, screaming his name as you clenched around his thick cock. Lucifer lapped up the blood he had drawn from you before he collapsed on top of you, his demonic form finally subsiding, as you both tried your best to catch your breath. You both laid there for a minute or two before even thinking about moving again. Besides, you loved the feeling of his full weight on top of you, it was comforting.
"Remind me to tease you more often," you joked, running your fingers through Lucifer's soft blond hair. He shot his head up and glared at you with a clear 'don't even think about it' look. "I'm kidding! Mostly…" Lucifer rolled his eyes playfully and planted a small peck to your lips. He finally found the strength to pull out of you and roll over onto his side, exhaling heavily.
"That…didn't really go as planned," Lucifer chuckled nervously. Up until now, you had completely forgotten what had even led up to this moment! You guessed you weren't getting a new dress after all, not that you minded, you had more than enough in your closet as it was. "What SHOULD have happened was you were going to pick out a new dress, I was going to take you out on a beautiful romantic candlelit dinner, and then I...I was…" he paused and gulped. "Oh, to hell with it!" He quickly sat up straight and turned to you, using both of his hand to grab onto yours. You sat up as well, your stomach filled with butterflies for a reason you weren't really sure of. "You were right, you know. I was keeping something from you. I am a very bad liar and I'm even worse at keeping secrets. Especially from you. You told me that I didn't have to tell you right now. But that was the problem! I was fighting with every fiber of my being to not tell you immediately! Because I love you with all of my heart and soul and I want to spend the rest of eternity with you by my side and...and..." he exhaled harshly. With a wave of his hand, a small black velvet box appeared. "My love," he opened the box to reveal a ring, "will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my bride?"
You looked down at the precious jewelry before you. A golden snake for the band, with its body wrapped around a beautiful ruby gem in the shape of an apple. Your eyes swelled with tears, you couldn't stop them from flowing down your face. Lucifer panicked and started to wipe them away.
"I-I'm sorry! Please...please don't cry! I didn't mean to-HMPH!" His apologies were cut short when your lips found his. After you pulled away, you laughed, tears refusing to stop. Lucifer's mouth was agape.
"Yes, Lucifer," you bawled, "yes yes yes, a million times yes! Of course I'll marry you, I've never wanted anything more!"
Lucifer sat there in disbelief. But only for a moment before joining you in your crying, wrapping his arms tightly around you, both of your sobs echoing throughout the room.
"You've made me the happiest person in all of Hell, my dear," he cried as he peppered kisses all over your face, clearing away more of your tears. "I love you, from now until the end of time. I promise to be the best husband I can possibly be."
"You're already the best person for me, my King," you smiled. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you, Lucifer Morningstar."
"And I you, Mrs. Morningstar."
~~~~
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Congrats on becoming the new Queen(s) of Hell babes 😘
Taglist: @alastor-deer-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)
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