#though I also feel that his lack of the two despite others

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Are You Sure?! - Episode 8 Observations

10/10 ☆

"If you just watch my trip with Jungkook here, you'll know exactly what I do every day at home."

Jimin - Are You Sure?!, episode 8

Something had shifted that last night in Sapporo. The tongues were looser, the flirting was back in full force, the laughter out of nothing and everything could be heard throughout the house. After two days of activities and always on the move from one place to another, this was now a time to just be. Like they usually are when they hang out together. And it was a peek into how easy it would be for things to escalate. It was like I could finally see how Jungkook could spin Jimin around and then receive a bite/hickey because of it.

A lack of actual objective and purpose cracked the facade that somehow they both tried to maintain and succeded more or less. Especially Jimin. But even in that context, this trip was Jimin and Jungkook stripping away the filters. Add some alcohol in the mix, together with tiredness and soreness and it almost strips them bare. So much so that it leaves enough room to blatantly check the other one up from head to toe while being almost naked. It leaves room to use words like "baby" and "honey" without the other one finding any of it remotely weird.

Going back to that quote from the beginning, despite Jimin referring to how he simply does nothing and lays around the house when he's not out working or on trips around the world, I think it also applies to the cooking session/impromptu show they had that evening. It also takes me back to their second night in Connecticut when Jungkook made pasta and both of them were in sync and knew exactly what to do and how to do it because it was a habit. The difference in Sapporo was that it had the humor twist on top. But even then, it all fell into place immediately. They laugh at the same things and they probably must have put on similar acts in similar situations before. Jungkook is good at making Jimin laugh and how can he not try his best at succeeding that when Jimin is almost falling over because of it?

Which is why the next morning is such a blatant contrast to their good spirits the night before. Reality came crashing down. Impossible to hide. The mood was down, some tears and snifling even before they left the place. Not even shared jokes about puppy Jimin could work anymore. Not even the feast they have each time they go to a resturant. Not even Jungkook opening up all the windows in the car to distract Jimin. And how could it possibly work?

The lack of filter was there that next day, but in very different circumstances. There was no point to put on a brave face and end it with a classic "it was fun, hope we'll do it again, bye". These were the last three days of spending significant time together before 18 months in which most of the closeness probably had to be contained in just being in each other's presence. They didn't hide the sadness. It was not only palpable, but vocalized. Wanting to go back to the first day, feeling down because it's the last one. And ultimately, for someone in his position that has travelled countless times for business and pleasure, the time he spent with Jimin filming this show remains as the most significant for Jungkook. That's a big statetement, but no words were minced.

The memories made during AYS?! will hopefully make their lives easier during their military service. And even though another winter is getting closer and snow is something to be shoveled there, I hope they'll remember running around the streets of Sapporo and only feeling pain in their knees from skiing.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but if you areeee

Can you write smth about Ford x reader where they obviously got a crush on each other (but they dont confess they’re shyly dumb) but the crush got bigger bc reader decides to peck Ford on the cheek as a “Thank you” bc he helped them with smth, yanno yanno :33

Ps: I really really love your writing waaa keep up the good work!!

The crush you harbour on Ford and him on you was the least subtle thing ever, everyone could see the way you looked at each other as though the other hung the stars in the sky; you were both smitten kittens but were too scared to admit it for one reason or another.

You didn’t know when exactly you started having a crush on Ford, you merely assumed that was always the case ever since you met the man with the beautiful brown eyes, and you were perfectly content with that but what you weren’t content with was how everyone wanted you to confess.

‘He doesn’t like me like that, I’m not sure he likes anyone within a romantic aspect.’ You’d use as your excuse whenever anyone brings up the fact that you had yet to bear your heart to Ford.

‘Then you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.’ They’d respond and you could only look at them as though they’ve grown a second head. However they spoke the truth as Ford was equally as infatuated with you and would find himself pushing back the work he didn’t think required all his attention, all in favour of spending time with you whether it be star gazing or anomaly hunting.

Ford couldn’t remember the last time he felt light on his feet, head in the clouds and as though he was thirty years younger then he actually was and it was all thanks to you. While he wants to confess he found himself unable to do so when he looked into your eyes and found everything he could ever wish for within them; only to end up speechless as your eyes flickered with multiple emotions at once as he remained stood still as a statue, staring at you with a fondness within his eyes as you spoke random things to fill the silence.

This half attempts to confess -or lack there of an attempt- was enough to annoy the people close to you both as Stanley wants to put his head through a wall, Dipper vowed to himself to never be this bad and Mabel was on the verge of screaming at you both to kiss and get it over with at this point; the slow burn was killing her with how hesitant or chocked up you both become in each others presence.

They just wanted you two to cut the bullshit and start being a couple, solely just to make up for the months they’ve all have to suffer from seeing you both obviously pine for one another.

So currently you and Ford were looking for a so called ‘flying pig that may or may not be waddles parent or ancestor’ as Mabel had said to you both that very morning. So when Ford asked dipper if this was true, you swore you’ve never seen a boy sweat as much as Dipper did when he tried his hardest to convince you both that such a creature exists within the woods; you and Ford shared a look that spoke your unwillingness to believe, before agreeing to go out and look for this flying pig that may or may not be waddles’s ancestor.

‘Even if this flying pig is waddles’s ancestor, wouldn’t waddles also have wings by that logic?’ You asked.

‘Not necessarily my dear as the wings could be a hereditary trait that can skip multiple generations and appear in someone later down the line.’ Ford replied as he pushed up his glasses that were slipping down his nose, ‘however even I have to admit that this flying pig phenomena being real is slim to none despite everything else we’ve encountered here.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Then the billboard should read as this: Gravity falls, we’ve got everything to satisfy a diehard supernatural fanatic, just no flying pigs.’ You said in a goofy voice as you playfully nudge Ford in the side as he smiled softly, looking at you and feeling his heart become full; but before he could say anything a demonic squeal echoed throughout the forest causing you both to stop just as the birds stopped chirping.

Ford instinctively stood in front of you protectively as you tried to deduct where the blood curdling squeal came from. ‘What was that?’ You whispered my resting your chin on Ford’s shoulder as he reached for the gun at his hip upon instinct.

‘No clue dearest but I believe we might’ve found our anomaly.’ Ford replied lowly for only you to hear, only for the sound of wings beating filled your ears as a plump silhouette of a winged creature could be seen from a distance. You couldn’t help stop yourself from commenting ‘that could be a thousand things before it could be a flying pig-‘ just before you could finish the sentence the plump silhouette must’ve spotted you as it started flying towards you both at high speed; it was downright frighting.

‘FLYING PIG!’ You screamed the moment the figure got close enough to identify as both yourself and Ford ran began to run away from it as fast as your legs could carry you. ‘And here I thought Mabel had eating too much of that edible glitter and hallucinated.’ You added as Ford quickly took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulled you with him to hide behind a random tree, pulling you in close to his chest where you could hear his heart against your ear.

The demonic flying pig flew past you and it was them did you notice how massive those wings were for a creature that was of the same size of an average adult pig, but still it was scary to see a pig with teeth as sharp as razors; what was even more scary was the fact that pigs would eat anything and everything. You cuddled up closer to Ford instinctively as he held you close in order to comfort you. ‘It’s okay my dear, it’s gone now.’ He whispered against your head, kissing it as his hands rubbed up and down your back. ‘It must’ve gotten mad that we were within its territory and felt the need to scare us off.’

‘Well consider this officially scared off.’ You muttered against his turtlenecks finding the honest comfort and protection within his scent as you allowed it to invade your senses.

‘We’ll go back home and forget that we were almost flying pig food and watch some movies while drinking hot chocolate. How does that sound my dear?’ Ford asked and before his brain could comprehend what had happened, you had kissed his cheek and Ford felt his cheeks blossom with heat and his eyes widened.

‘That sounds perfect as long as I’m with you to do all of that of course.’ You replied softly as you looked at Ford with a soft, almost pleading expression and Ford felt his resolve crumble to dust as he averts his gaze from you.

‘I would love nothing more my dear.’ He admits and you were quick to clutch his hand in yours and drag him from your hiding place and begin your walk back to the shack, all the while keeping your wits about you in regards to one flying demon pig. ‘Then it’s a date!’ You exclaimed as you could hear Ford choke on nothing behind you, which only made you smile.

You’ll tell Mabel that you didn’t see a flying pig, but got a date out of trying to make up for the disappointment.

[genericpuff]

What do you think about Reachel's new redraw?

I feel like the characters look good but the background is too gray compared to the original one 😕

It's pretty rough, ngl. Not even necessarily because of the art itself, but because it's not a panel she should have ever redrawn to begin with.

The whole point of that scene was to showcase Persephone bringing life into the Underworld, a place where only death existed, but in this redraw it completely lacks that messaging, resulting in a scene of Persephone and Hades simply hugging each other in the dark with very dead-looking foliage surrounding them.

On a structural level, the composition has gone from vertical to horizontal, giving us way too much empty space around them which, again, is failed by the background being so dull and lifeless; Persephone's somehow become even smaller; and worst of all (though I'm sure some people will think I'm overreacting) her hair isn't tucked up in Hades' arms anymore, it's just sort of falling perfectly over his shoulder as one solid goop of pink, strangely changing shape as if it's resting on something but there's clearly nothing there.

That said, my opinions should be taken with grains of salt because I also have a lot of personal beef with a redraw like this - that original panel was my phone background for like, 2 years, and the episode it came from is still one of my favorites of all time in spite of all the criticisms I now have of the series, with art that originally inspired me to want to learn how to draw like Rachel.

There's been a lot of evidence over the past year or so to suggest that Rachel has "fallen out of touch" with her own work and these redraws that she's been making lately feel like tangible proof of that. The context in which she created those original panels no longer exists so to try and redraw them fundamentally misses the point of why they were so iconic to begin with.

I can understand that feeling of falling out of touch with your own work, to the point of not even seeing the appeal of it yourself anymore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving forward, not back. The fact that she's still just muddling around with LO stuff despite announcing two more projects and seemingly not making any progress with either the TV show or Rachel Smythe Presents... it really does seem like she's stuck in limbo. The deadlines and contractual obligations aren't there to motivate her anymore, and while that may now have freed her from the burden of creating LO in such a cramped and unhealthy space - now being able to create it simply for herself - I think the years of working on it have definitely taken its toll on her ability to create the way she used to and so we're seeing those growing pains now.

The real bummer about it is that it's being celebrated as "growth" but it's about as much growth as the illustrated environment above - dead and bleak.

[evilmenshoe80]

ADAM & MIKA

The meeting  

(WARNING: this is a guitarhero endgame fic with past adamsapple, don't like don't read, pretend I don't exist and that's it, thanks! ❤️)

It was a beautiful morning in the garden of eden. The birds were happily singing announcing a new morning, the breeze of the wind gently rocked the trees, generating a pleasant melody that filled the entire place, the warm rays of the sun filtered through the trees creating a beautiful yellow and orange collage in the skin of the first man, Adam.  

He slowly opened his eyes, taking a moment to fully awaken, before rising with a yawn. It had been a decent night, no nightmares after what he had feel like an eternity of waking up crying in the middle of the night, maybe his father took pity of him an removed his capacity to dream, that would be the best, something he would gladly accept, why dream? When the two beings that he loved the most abandoned him without a doubt.  

Lucifer, his best friend, his guardian angel, the one that guided him on his first years of existence, the only one that didn’t kneel when god presented him because in his own words “they were equals”, the angel that had made beautiful promises of a bright future for both of them.......the angel he hated and loved.  

And Lilith, his wife, the first woman, the other half that he didn’t knew he needed, the other fundamental piece of God's plan so that both could give birth to humanity, his equal as a human....his first love and the person he though it would be by his side forever. 

 

He remembered the day he saw the two for the first time. 

~~~~~~*~~~~~~ 

The earliest memory he has of his existence was waking up in a room full of light, with creatures similar to him, but not exactly like him, their shape was similar to his, but most of this beings were taller, easily covering him with their body, they had wings, their body was covered by a strange material, some had two eyes, others only one eye and some had many more than two and as a weird extra, they all had a weird looking golden shape above their heads, gently floating and following them everywhere they moved.  

But despite the strange look of these beings he didn’t feel scared or threatened in any way, he actually feel at peace, at ease, like he belonged there despite so many eyes looking at him, As he moved his gaze around, inspecting his surroundings, it landed on the figure next to him. A figure that left him speechless, this one has more similarities with him, but like with the other creatures it had some differences, the middle of her body was smaller, her hair was longer and with a lighter colour, similar to the light that shined in the place, her skin a different tone just like her eyes, which also were sharper than his, but with a similar light, she was beautiful, the woman looked at him with the same curiosity.  

Before he could try to form a word, an imponent yet gentle voice filled the room, silencing the whispers of the other creatures and making both humans turn around to face the origin of it. Their father, the creator of everything, god. Their voice was strong, with clear autorithy but at the same time, it was the most calming and beautiful sound adam remembers to ever hear, no singing of any other being or instrument could compare to the beauty that it was the melodic voice of the supreme being.  

“Adam, Lilith, my perfect creations” said the being of light “I welcome you to the world” 

“w-who are you?” said the first man, in a trembling voice that was more for lack of experience that for being afraid 

“i’m your creator, you can call me father”  

After some time of pure silence and of the first humans looking at each other, both with the same confused expression, lilith asked in a curious tone.  

“why...did you create us?”  

“I created you so you can start a new world togueter, new life, a new race, the human race, that’s your purpose”   

“purpose? What's that?” asked the first men  

“It’s what gives a reason to exist to every being that I create, and yours, it’s to create new life”  

“why?” asked both humans at the same time  

To this question, god stayed silent for a whole minute, which make the angels feel nervous and start whispering again, not because god didn’t knew the answer, they knew, but their father not wanting to answer right away had a meaning none of the humans could handle, at least not yet, so, god only answered: 

“because the universe cannot exist without it” said the creator, making the angels shut their bickering again.  

Both humans stayed silent and before either of them could ask another “why?” the father of everything pointed their stare at one of the angels in the room. A short figure with white skin, his cheeks adorned with blue dots that matched with his crystal blue eyes, golden hair that was decorated with a big blue hat with a golden ribbon, and a blue tunic that moved gently with the fluttering of his golden wings.  

“Lucifer”  

At the mention of his name, the angel spread his wings and approached the center of the room where God and the humans were standing.  

“Yes, father” the angel made a reverence  

God pointed their gaze at lilith and adam again “the name of this angel is Lucifer”  

Lucifer made a reverence to both humans 

“what’s an angel?” asked lilith  

“another of my creations, his purpose is to teach and protect you, guide you through the paths of life” he pointed his stare at every angel in the room “that’s the purpose of all of them”  

At this, all the angels started to kneel, understanding the weight of their creator words. Yes, all of them, except one. The angel that was at their side, lucifer. All the room was in a dense silence, the angels looking at each other and some at lucifer without daring to say anything. The humans stared at each other, like trying to get some answers, though both of them where in the same situation, neither knew why suddendly the atmosphere had become more than tense, suffocating.  

God seemed to be staring at lucifer, with an expression no one in the room could really read, everyone were expecting, waiting for god’s next words, their next reaction.  

“Lucifer” said the lord with a calm but firm tone 

“yes, father?” answered lucifer with a smile  

“Guide adam and lilith to eden” he looked at the humans “your duty is to name all the animals and plants in the garden, let your curiosity lead you to create new things” then he looked at the other archangels, lucifer’s siblings “accompany them, any question that adam and lilith have, you shall answer them”  

“yes, father” answered the archangels at the same time  

“I will visit you once you have properly settled”  

And like that, in the blink of an eye god dissapeared. After some seconds the other angels began to get up and stretch. Their whispering started again.   

“I hope everything goes well” 

“they look so fragile”  

“do you think they can make it?” 

“I can’t believe Lucifer didn’t kneel”  

“I know, his new position is getting over his head”    

Both adam and lilith looked at each other again, restless, hesitating to approach each other wanting to search some comfort at being the only “humans” in the whole place, life? Race? Purpose? What did all that really mean?. These creatures seemed to be have a higher understanding of things, why did they needed them?  

“adam, lilith”  

Both humans turned towards the soft but playful voice 

“I’m so happy you are finally here, we all have been waiting to finally meet you!” said lucifer with a smile “I’m sure that both of you have a lot of questions, but don’t worry” he pointed his hands towards his siblings “we’ll help you understand”  

One of the angels behind lucifer reached his hand towards him, patting his shoulder.  

“yes, michael?” said lucifer with a bright smile towards his brother  

“can we talk for a moment?” asked his twin with a conflicted expression 

“right now? But we have work to do! Lilith and Adam need-” 

“I can’t believe you didn’t show respect towards father’s creations” said gabriel “you know how much father loves them, how much effort he put in making them!”  

“geez, calm down gabe, I made a reverence and that was enough for father, he didn’t got angry or complained about my behaviour”  

“wow, a reverence, how respectful” said uriel with his arms crossed and an unamused expression 

Lucifer’s smile twitched at his brother sarcasm but before he could answer, michael interfered  

“Luci, I know you don’t mean bad or try to be disrespectful, but, try to follow the protocole next time, As high of your position is now and as much patiente father has, we have to remember our place and duties, ok?” said michael, with a sincere smile, full of brotherly love towards his twin  

At this lucifer stayed silent for a moment, like analizing his brother’s words “ok mike” then, his crystal blue eyes landed on the humans, who were standing very close to each other, and looking at the tense scene in front of them “I promise to behave” said the angel with a smile that made adam’s spine shiver. 

~~~~~~*~~~~~~  

Adam blinked rapidly and shaked his head, finally standing and making his way towards the lake to wash up, breaking free from that memory that hunted his mind constantly, he tried and tried to not think about it, it hurted, everytime that he remembered lilith’s curious stare, how she smiled at him, the way she holded his hand when they were walking towards the garden for the first time, how the feel of her soft skin made him shiver and feel heat on his cheeks, it hurted, remembering lucifer’s soft touch on his shoulder, his friendly chatting and mischievous smile that filled his heart with something he couldn’t understand at the moment, it hurted, it hurted, it hurted, IT HURTS, STOP! 

His mind was begging, PLEADING for rest, so many things happened before the angel and the woman decided to leave him behind, but it didn’t matter if they were good or bad memories, they all made him feel bad, feel things he couldn’t name or understand at all, and that only served to increase his anger.  

Adam arrived at his favorite spot in the lake, he let out a little sigh of relief at the feeling of the cool water on his feet, he looked at his reflection for a moment  

“Eve” adam said in a sad tone, as if someone just asked him about who he was thinking about 

The second woman, his second wife, his third love but not less special, his other half, the person that was created from his rib to fill the void in his heart, while the extraction didn’t hurt, her creation left a scar on his body that burned once he woke up from his sleep, a burn that he could still feel once in a while, he noticed that it was stronger when he missed her, which was constantly.  

Her eyes were the first thing he saw, they were the same as his, golden, with long reddish brown hair, her skin a little lighter than his but with the same golden freckels and shine, she was a little shorter but not too much, and her smile, that sweet and kind smile that he loved so much, that made him forget about the mess in his head, the feeling of solitude 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you Eve” adam practically whimpered, feeling the hot tears running down his cheeks at the memory of eve being kicked out of eden, of her squirming and crying, trying to reach him, begging mercy from the angels, he had never see the angelic beings like that, it was the first time he felt an odd feeling towards them 

He had tried to reach her, but he was stopped, they couldn’t risk to lose him too, he tried to beg to sera, to the archangels, to every angel that was present at the moment but the decision was made, eve would be kicked out of eden for disobeying the only rule in the garden and try to tempt him to sin too, “luckily” for him the angels arrived before he could take a bite of the forbidden fruit, saving him from an unfortunate destiny. 

But the worst about all of it, as if the whole situation wasn’t terrible enough, is that she wasn’t alone in this, someone had tempted her, tricked her into disobeying god and ignoring her husband advice, the two beings that he had loved the most.... 

Adam couldn’t contain himself anymore and started crying, letting out whines of pain, letting out all the tears he didn’t though he had anymore, he already cried so much before, until his eyes hurted, until he felt like he didn’t had more tears to shed, but it seems like he was wrong.  

Why no one wanted to stay with him? Why no one choose him? Why it seemed like they didn’t cared as much about him like they said? would it be better if he took the apple from lucifer when he offered it? Would things have been different if he had the guts to bite the apple when eve offered it too? should he have fought harder to be with his wife? Was she doing ok? Where lucifer and lilith doing ok? Did they though about hi- 

The bombardment of questions in his mind suddenly stopped when he felt the soft touch of a large but delicate hand on his shoulder, soft and warm, he turned his head slowly until he found himself face to face with the owner of that hand.  

Seraphiel, or “sera” to shorten, the seraphim that was in charge of the order and correct progress in eden, it was needless to say that was not the situation right now, they had loss two humans and a powerful angel to sin, the plans for the progress of humanity had been put on hold until they could fix the current situation, the veteran angels were becoming more impatient and worried every day, and sera didn’t visit him as often as before, he was sure that she was angry with him, dissapointed, Adam was sure that they all would give up on him, that they would look for another way to give birth to the human race without him, since he was unable to keep his partners by his side. 

Adam was ready for bad news, for her to guide him to god and for his father to turn him to dust, to what he originally was, that would be merciful he though, that would stop his pain, his worries, every bad though in his mind, but no, for his surprise nothing like that happened, sera had that gentle and motherly smile she always gave to him, there was hope in her eyes, she didn’t say anything but something in her stare told him she has found the solution for all their problems.  

Without breaking her silence, she slowly moved, revealing a bright figure behind her. 

Adam was blinded for a second, before he laid his eyes on the person in front of him, it was a human, another man.....a very beautiful one.  

He was tall, taller than him, with a strong build and beauty marks in different parts of his body, his skin tone lighter than his with pink undertones, hair on his chest, arms and legs, he was wearing a short yellow chiton around his waist like him, his hair was long and blonde, some locks standing out from his shoulders, and his eyes, oh father, his eyes were sapphire blue, sharp and intense, locked on his golden ones, his pinkish plump lips curled in a charming smile that had adam practically hipnotized, he couldn’t stop looking, who...who was him? 

“adam, dear” said sera breaking her silence “this is your new husband, his name is Mika” 

“H-h-h-husband?”Adam stuttered 

Sera nooded and looked at mika “Mika, this is your husband, adam the firstman” 

Mika’s smile got wider before approaching adam and kneeling in front of him “hello adam, I’ve been told a lot about you, I hope we can get along, I’m really excited to spend time with you” 

Adam felt his body heat rise “I-I-I've been hope really excited to time with you”   

Mika gave adam an amused stare before letting out a giggle 

“sucessful introduction, excellent” the higher seraphim though to herself, now it was up to Michael. The warrior angel could do it, she was sure, after all, Michael never failed. 

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

(HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!! I FINALLY FINISHED THE FIRST EPISODE OF MY ADAM & MIKA (human!Michael) FIC!!! AAAAAGH I'M REALLY EXCITED! And omg, to the great writers of this fandom and any other, my respect for you is 100000 higher now, I erased so many parts of the history so many times, how do you do it?! 😭

And I'll be honest with you guys, this au at first was just an excuse to draw and write michael x adam smut hehe but know I really want to write something more meaningful for them, and I hope to do a good job, I'll do my best for my guitarhero fellows 🤝💕

also, I know what you may be thinking, "it's ridiculous how adam is so sad at the start of the story for his past lovers but sees Mika and suddendly he's happy and in love!" adam is shocked by his new mates beauty, that's all, Michael's new body was made specifically for adam to like it and feel attracted to, BUT believe me, I plan to develop their relationship more before we start talking about real love

thanks and good night!!! 😘)

@bluefrostyy I remember you wanted me to tell you when the story was out so, here it is 👍

[daily-tartag]

#31

hairstyle meme!

+with freckles & silly versions>>

[hamsternella]

PLEEEEASE a nsfw alphabet for Stanford??🥺

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG

Stanford Pines NSFW Alphabet

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Despite the tiredness and embarrassment once the heat of the moment wears off, Ford goes to great lengths to wrap you in his arms and hold you tight against his chest, where you can hear his heartbeat. He likes to let you know how well you did, and how much he loves you. Caresses and kisses, as well as laughter and sweet whispers until falling asleep are never lacking.

B= Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ford would always say his brain. He is a cool, methodical person who almost always finds a way to achieve great results. Thinking and ingenuity are like breathing to him. But of course in this case that's not the answer; considering that the last thing he can use is his brain when he has you in front of him. It is as if only his heart exists, beating wildly at the sight of the most beautiful and inexplicable thing he has been able to witness in his entire existence: you.

That being the case, he can't find any other part of himself that he likes enough. Maybe his hands, because he knows how much you love it when he touches you. And if it's you, it would be everything—Ford is unable to pick just one part of your body. If he had to, maybe it would be your waist; because he loves to grab you with both hands from that spot to keep you still, under or on top of him, and at whatever pace he can best get those sweet sounds out of you that fascinate him so much.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot and hard. Preferably inside you or on your face; sometimes pushing a little with his fingers to fill your mouth with his cum. He loves it when you clean his hand with your tongue.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ford would never tell you—there's a reason it's a secret. But do you still remember those times when you couldn't find your underwear, and suspiciously it was during the weekdays when Ford took care of the laundry, and oddly enough he took all the time in the world to iron and put the laundry away...? Yeah, well. I think you know what I mean. Don't mention to him how obvious it is that he's been stealing your underwear to masturbate with it. Don't tell him, really.

Also don't mention that you've actually felt him cling to you when you sleep; looking for more than just warmth at night. Don't tell him that you clearly feel him down there—hard and warm.

Or do. Who knows what might happen.

E= Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Technically no experience at all. Of course he had gotten to kiss other women, maybe a little touch with one or two, but that was many, many years ago; by now he hardly remembers anything at all. Besides he was very young; he used to think differently and be busier with his research. Now that the world is at peace and he can enjoy the calm and family life, it is more than obvious that the only thing he has to defend himself at the beginning of the relationship is all theoretical. It's not a terrible thing, of course. Ford is willing to experiment and learn with you.

F= Favorite position

There are still many positions to try and discover, but the most used —for comfort and practicality— are three par excellence.

Doggy, because nothing is nicer than being able to see you under him, with your ass and waist at his disposal to play to his heart's content.

Cowgirl/Cowboy, because even though he loves making love to you, Ford has to accept that at his age it's hard to stay steady all the time. Sometimes he needs a little help from you to avoid looking pathetic for getting tired after so much action—even if you tell him there's nothing pathetic about it. Besides, don't you look lovely on top of him, with your body shaking and your eyes glazed over? Best view of all.

Spooning, because Ford goes crazy holding you from behind, pushing his hips against your ass; with one of his hands working over your body and his lips on your neck, waking you up from a long night of deep sleep. This man is desperate to touch you.

G= Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ford is quite serious during the moment, but this is because he is a very shy person about approaching you to begin with. Even if it comes to playing along with you he is the first and last to get embarrassed. An occasional nervous laugh; sometimes little choked sentences if he notices you looking at him too much, and that makes him lose his concentration. But in general he is someone very focused, who seeks not to lose the thread of the moment. His biggest fear is disappointing you.

H= Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

A lot of things happened and he hasn't had the time, nor the desire, to get down to work there. That being the case, I'd say hairy; but at least he's started to take the time to trim it down a bit and make it halfway nice for you. If it's something that would bother you, Ford is willing to trim it further—even all of it.

But yeah. Super hairy.

I= Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ford takes care to be careful with everything he does or says, always seeking to satisfy the needs of your body and mind; every fantasy you have closely tied to everything he does to make you feel fulfilled. He is a dedicated man, with nimble hands and a sensitive heart. Sweet and witty words are never lacking, always driving you crazy in his arms and against his lips. Sensuality is never in short supply.

J= Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's been starting to do it more often since he's been with you. Not a lot, because he prefers to do it with you; but once in a while never hurts if he can't get you out of his head. He needs at least something of yours to make him cum—your underwear or the warmth of your body. He needs you.

He cums fast and hard, with the piece of clothing against his face, inhaling intensely; or with a free hand on your body, against your skin.

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Definitely role-playing and cockwarming.

L= Location (favorite places to do the do)

Private places, if possible. Ford doesn't want to risk the possibility of being seen by someone else. He loves to have you in the bedroom, or even in his study room. Any place where no one and nothing will interrupt you.

M= Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To see you in his clothes, to hear your voice, to come on to him... to suddenly appear dressed for some sensual and perverse role-playing... My goodness, how you drive him crazy.

Ford is a simple guy: he sees his partner existing and making eyes at him, and suddenly he feels his body warm and ready to go.

N= No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes, because he can't accept the idea of seeing you with someone else, let alone seeing himself with someone other than you. Ford is also unwilling to degrade you or physically harm you; just as he does not find it attractive to allow the same to be done to him.

O= Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ford loves to receive oral, but he prefers to give it. He loves to put his mouth down there, tasting you and pulling out sounds that haunt him in his best dreams. You are a delight. Even if he's inexperienced, he's so desperate to have you in his mouth that the guy learns in no time to meet your expectations. There's no way not to lose your mind when Ford is taking care of everything between your legs; with his hands holding you by the flesh of your thighs, with his fingers caressing your skin.

Imagine his face if you proposed sitting on it. Imagine that, I insist. It's the best.

P= Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual; deep and hard. Getting all the way in, Ford always gives a little push to press himself against you, hiding his face in the space of your neck. He will talk to you through this—be prepared for a couple of whimpers and muffled moans.

Q= Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't like them at all. He prefers to take his time with you. Although if you are very needy, then maybe he can find a way.

R= Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ford loves to experiment! And with that always comes risk. But when it comes to sex, this all takes a different turn; and while he's willing to try new things and experiment with you, he'll always be against anything that might hurt you or make you both uncomfortable.

S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The years and the various experiences out in the open have weathered Ford, and have made him a man with a lot of physical capacity to endure long hours without sleep and with a lot of work. Research work, of course; the physical stuff has always been for fighting or survival.

With this in mind, Ford is able to handle quite a bit of foreplay and sex itself, but he tires quickly after a second round—if the first one wasn't strong enough. Even if he feels he can't go on, he has no problem helping you by using his hands or mouth; as well as any other part of his body that comes in handy. Hopefully and maybe there will be another round if you manage to turn him on one more time.

T= Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Ford doesn't need toys. He only needs you. Now, if in a hypothetical case you would like to use one, he has no problem even designing his own to use with you. At first you tell him no, because it's easier to buy them; but after seeing some plans and listening to him talk so excitedly, seeing that he even starts to consider the idea of implementing other things when it comes to sex, you come to the conclusion that maybe it's not so bad.

Ford opts to use toys on you, not him. They don't get his attention that way.

U= Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not so much, really. He thinks it's cute to see you being so desperate for him. But at the end of the day it's something that makes him desperate too. Ford couldn't stand to play with you like this for long; he needs to accede to your needs in order to satisfy his own.

V= Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Whimpers A LOT, and likes to moan loudly—but tries to drown them out, fearful that someone might hear them.

If the two of you are in a place where you can be sure not to be overheard, Ford sets out to talk to you during the act.

W= Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's unexpected and always manages to sweep you off your feet, but Ford is capable of the hottest dirty talk you can imagine. When you least expect it you have him with his lips on your ear, his hot breath on your skin, and his husky, deep voice of desire spitting out dirty, kinky phrases that keep you with your hands pushing against his chest; his fingers pressing against the skin of your neck, surprising you with how much this man can separate himself from the real world and let you drown in his darkest fantasies.

Ford prefers not to talk about it after everything calms down. It will take some time.

X= X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not as long, but definitely fat. The tip is quite sensitive. Slightly curved downward.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Since he discovered how fascinating your touch is, quite high. Although it's more what he desires than what he can get to do. If he gets careless, he comes quickly. It's fun to play on his desperation and make him wait; that might help him endure his neediness with you a little longer.

Z= Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty fast; but he strives to see that you're okay after all, and that you're resting with him. His priority is you, after all.

[miserycanary]

BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you. 

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night. 

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you  

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind. 

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not. 

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you. 

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well. 

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows. 

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle. 

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt. 

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him. 

God, what has he done? 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

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check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[thelostconsultant]

A life well lived

pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

summary: Max has been in love with Charles's twin since they met as kids. When he finally has the chance to tell you how he feels years later, it turns out you feel the same. A wonderful life is ahead of the two of you, and Max couldn't love you and your son more.

note: 9k words + sm posts. I love them so much, I can barely put it into words. I hope you'll like this.

Whenever he was on the track, Max was competitive, and he didn’t lack the confidence he needed to win races. But he wasn’t the only one, Charles was equally good, and he also had everything a great driver needed to succeed. So the two of them naturally became rivals, the greatest of their generation, and despite their hate towards each other, Max couldn’t help but respect him deep down. 

Throughout the years, he got to learn everything about him on and off the track, so he knew about his siblings. And he was painfully aware of his twin sister being there with him at every race, the sweet, lively girl who always had a bright smile on her face as she talked to her relatives. Every single time he laid his eyes on you, he wished he was the one you were talking to, he wished you would finally say more than just a brief hello or goodbye. 

Whenever he did well in the race, Max liked to think your smiles and cheers were meant for him alone. They were always meant for your brother though, he knew that, but his stupid teenage brain assumed the fact you briefly glanced at him while smiling meant you would get married one day. That you were madly in love with him too, that you were yearning for his company just as much as he was. 

If it was up to him, he would have talked to you. He wanted to learn more about you, he wanted to be near you, he wanted to experience the innocent love only a teenager could feel, but how could he do that under his father's strict control? He couldn't even play football on the weekends, how could he have a girlfriend? And then there was Charles who was already giving him death glares whenever they met, if he found out Max had a thing for his sister, who knows what he would have done. It was better not to risk a possible fist fight it would end with.

So he was destined to watch you from afar, letting his imagination run wild to cope with the pain he felt for not being able to talk to you. In his mind you were sitting next to him on top of a large crate, asking various questions to pass the time, giggling and feet dangling as you listened to him. His brain fed him with the image of you running up to him to hug him after the race, your bright smile being a much better prize than the trophy he had left on the ground.

And then he and Charles ended up in different series, meaning you weren’t there at his races anymore. His race weekends became much colder and emptier, he decided to focus solely on racing, pushing every single thought related to you to the back of his mind. He kept an eye on his rival, of course, he needed to know how he performed, if he was still good enough to one day catch up to him. He also wanted to know if you were still following him around like a shadow, if you still stood next to him on countless photos that he would later share on social media. He just wanted to see you, to know you were okay. 

His mother was the only one who figured out he had a little crush on you. She noticed him staring at photos of you, and she was kind enough to start a conversation about you, giving him the chance to finally give someone a speech about how special you were to him, how nice you were to everyone, how pretty you were, and how much he wished he could talk to you. He didn’t even know why he told her everything without feeling embarrassed, but maybe he was just grateful to have the opportunity to get it off his chest after all those years. His mother told him to find you on social media and send you a message, after all that’s what those were made for. 

But he didn’t do it. His confidence was usually nowhere to be found when it came to you, and even now all he could think about was making a fool of himself. What if you said no? What if you told your brother and he would reappear in his life to give him hell for making a move on you? He didn’t want to risk that, so he just returned to watching you from afar. Sad and lonely, with the kind of pain in his heart that couldn’t be healed so easily. 

When he made it into F1, Max had a new challenge to face, and his head was always in the races, this cutthroat world forcing him to focus more than ever before. He knew it was only a matter of time before your brother debuted in the series as well, he just had to be patient and wait for it to happen, and once it did, you would be back in his life. So he waited and pushed himself, eventually winning his first race, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you saw him, if you were proud of him. 

But then one day he noticed that you suddenly disappeared from social media, all of your accounts were deleted, and he began to panic. Seeing your posts–even though he didn’t follow you–was always the highlight of his day, so what was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to know what was happening in your life? And to make things worse, you were studying abroad, he didn’t have the chance to accidentally bump into you on the streets of Monaco. 

And then it happened. Charles finally caught up with him and joined F1. Max couldn’t have been happier. For one, he finally got his rival back, even a rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins at the thought of continuing their competition, and two, you would surely be back in the paddock. Maybe not at every race, but you would without doubt show up every now and then. So he began to count back the days to the first race of that season, having a feeling that you would not miss it, and then he spent the remaining time checking your family’s social media accounts to see if they shared any new photos of you.

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 245,175 others

charles_leclerc: I want to say thank you to my team and my family for the support. It was a great first race with a decent result. I missed my baby sister though, she used to be my lucky charm.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

arthur_leclerc: Not bad.

pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so proud of you!

yourusername: What baby? I'm literally half an hour younger. That's not the baby category, you muppet.

⤷ charles_leclerc: You're a baby to me.

⤷ arthur_leclerc: You kinda are.

⤷ yourusername: Shut up, fetus.

⤷ charles_leclerc: And muppet? You spend too much time in London. Come back home.

⤷ yourusername: No.

You were back on Instagram apparently, and he had never tapped on a link faster before. His heart was racing from the excitement, expecting to see a bunch of photos of you, ones he hadn’t seen before, but to his disappointment, it was private. He couldn’t send you a request, he didn’t want you to know he was interested in your posts, and it was killing Max, because he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms by now. With your brother being back, he felt like that stupid kid again, which despite your absence came with the crushing feeling of a one-sided love he’d been suffering from for all those years.

Time passed, and he was just waiting and waiting, hoping one day you would show up, but you didn’t. There were posts on your family’s accounts, and you were glowing on every single photo, apparently having a happy life in London. He wondered if you were in a relationship. Did you have a special someone waiting for you? The thought of you being taken was devastating, because in his mind you were his, he truly believed that you were destined to be together.

[Nice to meet you, where you been?]

2023. He had to wait until the 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix to finally have you at a race. 

It all started with a burner account he created years ago to keep an eye on the posts from your family and other people connected to them. Just to see if they had any new content about you without the risk of accidentally liking a photo with his real account. It’s not stalking. It’s not bad. Well, not that bad. So that day he checked the posts in the morning while he got ready to leave, and he saw a post from Alexandra that the two of you were having breakfast together before heading out to the track to see your brother. 

His stomach did a flip, his heart rate jumped, and he suddenly felt like throwing up from the anxiety. He had always imagined this day would be easy. He catches you in the paddock, just “accidentally” bumping into you, greets you with a big, friendly smile with a short comment about how long it’s been, and he tells you how proud you must be of your brother. And then maybe they would have to talk about Charles for a while, but once you eased into the conversation, he could start to shift the conversation to you. How are you? Why haven’t you been to his races? Are you seeing anyone? If not, would you like to have dinner with him? 

But now that it was time to actually do this, he felt sick from the thought. He couldn’t do it, he didn’t feel confident enough to talk to you. It felt like he had traveled back in time, turning into a nervous, awkward kid again. How stupid did he have to be to assume you would be interested? Sure, he and Charles didn’t hate each other on a cellular level these days, they could tolerate each other, but they were still each other’s biggest rivals, so why would you be with him? 

Since it was sprint day, Max decided to focus on his job, but when he caught a glimpse of you as you celebrated your brother’s sprint qualifying win, he knew it was a futile attempt. You didn’t even look at him, even though he watched you for a few seconds with a stupid smile on his face and went over to congratulate Charles, which resulted in a kicked puppy feeling. The sprint race wasn’t any better, his head wasn’t really in it, but at least he could see you again. But then, just as he once again watched you with a smile, your eyes locked with his and you smiled back. Unlike back in the day, now he was sure this smile was meant for him. 

He got drunk on this lovely feeling, and as pathetic as it probably was, he found himself lingering around the Ferrari motorhome after the interviews and the debrief. There would be photos and rumors, he was aware of that, but he had to see you. He had to give himself the chance to say hello, to see if you were also interested, if you were willing to talk to him. Deep down he hoped you would be looking at him starry-eyed, giggling like you used to, your bubbly personality coming to the surface as you talked. 

Then he saw you step out on your own, looking around hesitantly as you probably tried to figure out where to go. You looked lost, but Max was more than happy to offer his services as a tour guide, so he walked over to you and stopped with a small smile on his face. “Need help?” he asked.

You turned to look at him with a surprised look, but then your features softened and you flashed the bright smile he missed so much at him. “I’m looking for the exit.”

“I can show you the way,” he offered, and he was surprised to see you quickly nod in response. As you began to walk in the right direction, Max’s brain worked in overdrive to figure out what to talk about, but in the end all he managed to come up with was a trivial question about why you were leaving on your own. 

“I came with Alex, but now she’s going back to the hotel with Charles. I figured I could take a look around the city before dinner, so I won’t wait for them,” you replied as you pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head.

This was his best chance to ask you out, he knew that, which is why he let out a low hum with his hands behind his back as if he seriously had to think about it. “I can show you around if you’d like. And I know a really good restaurant, one that’s not the crowded fancy kind,” he said as he glanced over at you. 

He didn’t miss the way you blushed at the thought and he had to do his damn best to prevent a proud, cocky smile from appearing on his face. You clearly liked him, you were interested, what more could he wish for? After all those years here he was with you on his side, having a real conversation without your brother’s murderous looks, and on top of it all, he had the courage to ask you out on a date. Because he could tell you knew it would be a date, otherwise you wouldn’t be this shy all of a sudden.

Max came to a halt and gently put a hand on your arm to stop you. “I promise I won’t bite. Come on, just say yes,” he tried. 

“All right, let's do this.”

A wide smile appeared on his face upon hearing this. “Great. Let's get my stuff then we can leave.”

His fingers slowly slid down from your elbow to your hand so he could take it, pulling you after him as he took a sharp turn and headed to the Red Bull motorhome with you by his side. When you were finally on your way out for real, it was you who reached out for his hand, the contact making him involuntary blush. It made you both nervous, unsure of what this meant, but it still felt so natural, like you've been tied to the other by some invisible string.

The two of you spent the following hours walking around the city, with him telling you interesting details he had picked up throughout the years, and you listened to him talk with shining eyes, accompanied by a big smile that sometimes temporarily made him forget how to speak. It was new, it was exciting, and he could have sworn it was just the two of you in the city that night. His eyes always found their way to your face, taking in every little detail as if he hadn’t studied it before as a kid or on the pictures he saw on social media. 

When it was quite late, he took you back to the hotel you were staying in, but neither of you felt like saying goodbye just yet. For a minute or two you were just standing there in silence, waiting for the other to say something, to say what you both had on your mind out loud. He was the first to break under the sweet pressure, all because you nervously bit on your lower lip, a move that drew an almost animalistic growl out of him before he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss. 

You didn’t hesitate to return it, getting so lost in it that your hands moved up to his neck, gently pulling him closer as if it was even possible. He only broke the kiss to let his lips pepper small kisses across your face, using this opportunity to tell you something that had been on his mind ever since you agreed to come with him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispered to you, his nose pressing against the shell of your ear. 

“A whole twelve hours?” you asked with a delicate little giggle. 

He leaned back to look you in the eye, his big palm resting on your flushed cheek as he flashed a playful smile at you. “More like twelve years,” he corrected you. Your eyes grew wide from surprise, pupils still blown, and he couldn’t help but press a kiss on the tip of your nose. “What can I say, I had a crush on my biggest rival’s sister. And I still have to this day.”

Gulping, you watched him in silence for a while, a reaction that made him worry. Did he say something wrong? He was terrified of the thought of you letting go of him and disappearing behind the entrance of the hotel, leaving him behind for good. But before he could get lost in this spiral, you kissed his chin and went, “Well, I might have had a crush on a stupid blond boy with his stupid blue eyes too. But he never talked to me and I was warned to keep a safe distance from him,” you added. 

This made him kiss you again, and this time he didn’t hold back. He couldn’t care less about standing out on the street where everyone could see him, he couldn’t worry about photos emerging of the two of you. He wanted to claim you as his, making you understand that fate brought you together again, and if he had to do this in front of your damn hotel, then he was more than happy to do it right there with an audience. 

Your safe little bubble was burst by the constant buzzing of your phone, soon followed by the ringtone, and while he wished you would just ignore it, you swore under your breath and quickly answered it. You were speaking with someone in French, upset that they were bothering you right now, but soon your expression and voice changed, mirroring the panic you probably felt, because the moment you ended the call, you began to type furiously. When he gave you an expectant look with a questioning hum, you let out a sigh and showed him the screen. 

He took the device from your hand and scrolled over some posts that could be found under his name in the tags, showing the two of you kissing just a few minutes ago. Considering your brother was tagged in a few of them, it was quite obvious that he was the one who called you, and knowing him, he was probably fuming from anger. “I’m sorry,” he said as he gave you back your phone. 

To his surprise, you just shook your head with a smile, then stood on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Don’t be. He’ll calm down and people will move on. Also, I’m too happy to care about the fans. Screw them,” you said with a laugh. 

Yeah, screw them. As long as you could think about this so casually, he was happy. Because the last thing he wanted was you being crushed by the pressure, deciding that this relationship wasn’t worth the effort it needed to work. He was willing to do whatever it took to make it work, he was ready to make sacrifices if needed, anything to keep you by his side. He was that lovesick teenage boy again, his brain clouded by a pink fog that affected his way of thinking. Was it wise to put rationality and logic aside? Not really, but he couldn’t care at the moment. 

Not when after all those years he could finally tell you how he felt, and he could hear you say you felt the same. 

“Does this mean you’ll give me your number?” he asked with a grin, already reaching for his phone. Shaking your head, you held out your hand, then typed it in, saving it under your name that you finished with a heart emoji. “Will you come to Miami with me? Then we could travel back to Monaco together and spend some time there until the race.”

You hesitated for the first time that night, looking away nervously as you fidgeted with your bracelet. “I wish I could, but I have to work. Maybe I can go to Monaco, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry, Max,” you told him when you finally turned back to him and saw the devastated look he probably had in his eyes. 

He was so lost in his fantasy world that he failed to consider that you might have had a life back home he knew nothing about. He didn’t know what you did for work, he only knew you lived in London. At least he assumed you still did. What else did he not know? What if you had someone waiting for you back home? Panic took over at the thought of this kiss being nothing more to you than a fleeting memory in a few hours, because he didn’t want to lose you so soon, he didn’t want to be a plaything you get bored of so fast. 

Somehow you picked up on his feelings, because you gently cupped his face to make him focus on you. “I have to be in L.A. next week, I don’t know when I’ll have a little break again,” you told him, eventually flashing a sweet smile at him. “But I’ll try to make it to Monaco on time, okay? I’ll even give ourselves a few days to relax together.”

“Promise?”

You nodded before burying your face into the crook of his neck. “I promise. I should get going, but I don’t want to leave you just yet,” you mumbled against his skin. 

Max buried his fingers into your hair then grabbed a handful of it to gently pull your head back. “Get some sleep. And if you feel lonely tomorrow at the track, feel free to visit me. You’re always welcome,” he said before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Now, go before I change my mind and take you back to my hotel.”

You laughed at this, but nodded nonetheless. “Good luck for the race. I don’t want you to beat my brother, but still. Goodnight, Max.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said as he let you go. 

He stood there for a while, watching you disappear behind the entrance of the building, but once he took a deep breath to calm his heart that was still beating fast from the excitement he felt because of you, he headed back to his hotel. In the taxi he pulled out his phone and sent you a message. Then you replied, and the written conversation didn’t stop until you announced you were dead tired around one in the morning. 

You were his, he could feel it. After all those years, after all those dreams and sleepless nights, he could finally consider you to be more than just a precious memory. You were real. He could still taste you in his mouth. It felt like a dream, one he never wanted to wake up from.

In the morning, as he was heading to the track, Max received a message from his mother. All it said was, “I see you got the girl in the end.” He couldn’t hold back the big smile that wanted to creep on his face at the memory of that conversation they had all those years ago about you. After all that time, here he was, lost in the lavender haze because of you. 

During the drivers parade he didn’t miss the same old murderous looks he had received as a kid, but at least this time he knew he was safe in front of all the cameras. A part of him wanted to discuss this with Charles, but something told him it would be better if he let you do the talking. Even as kids, you had your brother wrapped around your finger, he highly doubted that had changed over the years. 

After the race he saw you congratulate your brother, but he didn’t miss the bright smile that you flashed at him. He considered walking over to you, stepping into Ferrari territory, but in the end decided not to risk it. If you came to a race as his guest, he would have the opportunity to get a tight hug from you before giving you a kiss in front of the whole world. 

They were heading to the cooldown room when Charles suddenly appeared next to him and said, “If you hurt her, I’ll launch us both into the nearest barrier the next time we meet on the track.” 

Max gulped and nodded. It was a fair warning. He was already afraid of fighting him on the track, but knowing he now had a good reason to attack him was truly terrifying. 

In the following week, the two of you talked a lot. Once you even told him that you hadn’t written a word in over an hour because of your conversation, but he still didn’t let you get back to work. He was selfish, he needed to hear your voice to function, to feel alive and know that the weekend before wasn’t some fever dream. He considered suggesting a visit to L.A. after the race to spend some time with you before you traveled back to Monaco together, but he had a feeling that he would be pushing his luck with that. 

The race weekend in Miami didn't start as planned. He was really mad and disappointed in himself after the qualifying, but talking to you made him feel a lot better. Even though you weren't there with him, knowing you cared so much helped him calm down and focus on the race ahead. 

On Sunday morning, a bit over an hour before the drivers parade, Checo asked him to follow him, acting all secretive when he said he wanted to show him something. Max wasn't in the mood for surprises, but then he noticed you standing there in their motorhome and a wide smile appeared on his face. He rushed over to you to pull you into a tight hug before kissing you fiercely, recharging his batteries by doing so.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he stepped away, although he held your hands and wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. 

You shrugged with that sweet smile on your lips. “Yesterday wasn't the best for you and I could tell you were frustrated. My brother got me a pass, and he decided to ask Checo to sneak me into your motorhome to surprise you,” you explained. 

This was a surprise, sure, but not because you were here. “Charles organized this?” You nodded. “Why?”

“I don't know, ask him.”

“The last time we talked he told me he would push us both into a barricade if I hurt you,” Max admitted, earning a shocked look from you. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not planning on hurting you. Soooo, want me to give you a tour?”

When you nodded, he quickly thanked his teammate for helping your brother with this plan, then put a hand on the small of your back and showed you every interesting corner of the place, telling you different stories from the years he spent here, and conveniently ended the tour in his driver's room so you could have some privacy before he had to leave for the drivers parade. 

Even though you were sitting on his bed with a mischievous smile on your lips, he kept talking about how he got ready for the races, answering a question he didn't realize was a hint until now. Because you were eyeing him as if you were planning to pounce at him or grab the front of his shirt and pull him on top of you.

With a sigh and a knowing smile he stood in front of you, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. “Later, okay? This isn't the right time or place,” he told you.

“Why, what's the right time and place?”

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Somewhere I can take my time with you. This is not it, trust me.” Nodding, you stood up and gave him a quick kiss. “Will you watch the race from our garage, or will you go back to Ferrari?”

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, you buried your face into his chest. “Where do you want me?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Red Bull it is,” you mumbled against him.

Soon he had to leave you behind to meet the other drivers for the parade, and his heart was beating in his throat from the nervousness caused by the upcoming chat with your brother. Because he had to talk to him, he had to find out if he was suddenly supporting you two, and why he helped him by bringing you here. 

Charles was deep in a conversation with Pierre, but he wasn't afraid to interrupt them. “Can we talk?” he asked the Monegasque.

He nodded and followed him to a quieter corner. “I guess you met her,” he said with the hint of a smile. 

“Why did you do this?”

“Because she was sad. And I don't like to see my sister like that. If being with you can make her happy, so be it,” Charles explained. “I remember how things used to be in our karting days. I remember how much she talked about you, and I remember the way you always watched her. Guess you found each other again. It doesn't mean we'll be best friends now, but maybe we should bury the hatchet.”

Max didn't even know what to say at first, which was new. Your brother's speech surprised him, he definitely wasn't expecting him to be okay with your relationship so soon after it had begun. Nodding, he offered his hand, and Charles shook it without hesitation. 

He wanted to say something, he wanted to tell him how grateful he was for not making a scene or their lives a living hell, but the organizers told them it was time to go. So he waved goodbye and left to find his friends.

Sadly, he didn't have time to talk to you again, he only caught a glimpse of you before getting in the car, and he wanted to focus on the race ahead anyway. He knew you knew that, which is why he didn't feel like shit for not doing anything he could to squeeze in a few minutes to spend with you. 

After he crossed the finish line, Max had a good feeling and he couldn't stop smiling in his helmet. He wasn't happy because he managed to win, no, he was happy because he knew you would be there with the team to greet him in the parc fermé. After all those years he could finally see you celebrate his good result instead of your brother's. 

After he got out of the car, he quickly took off his helmet and balaclava, then ran over to his team to greet a few people before stopping in front of you, watching you with a wide grin as he waited for you to give him the green light. When you finally nodded, he pulled you into a fierce kiss, the adrenaline in his system working wonders. 

“I hope we'll find the right place and time tonight, because post-race you is criminally hot,” you whispered into his ear with a cute laugh.

If it was up to him, he would have skipped the celebration and debrief parts of the day, but the best he could offer now was making everyone hurry so you could get back to his hotel as soon as possible. “We will, trust me,” he assured you eventually before being dragged away for interviews.

[It's you and me, that's my whole world]

Max knew that the Monaco grand prix would be the perfect time to ask you. But he wanted to do this right, and since he had learned in the past year how important your family was to you, he requested a meeting with your mother and Charles to discuss his intentions.

Maybe it was old fashioned, but your brother was a bit overprotective, he wanted to make sure he was comfortable with the idea of having him as a brother-in-law. Your mother wouldn't be a problem, he knew that, because she had often commented on how well he took care of you, and how happy she was that you found someone who was this enamored with you.

So now here he was in your mother's apartment, sitting across from her and Charles as if he was facing the Spanish Inquisition. He took a deep breath to steady his breathing and give himself a moment to figure out where to begin. In the end he decided to be direct, so he pulled out the little jewelry box from his pocket, and placed it on the table between them after he opened it to reveal the ring inside.

Pascale had her hands over her mouth as she gasped in surprise, but soon it was revealed that she was smiling happily when she reached for the box. “When are you planning to ask her?” she wondered as she took a closer look at the ring.

“After the race. Well, since I don't know what Sunday brings, I was aiming for Monday. I'm planning to take her out for lunch, then we would drive to a spot where I can ask her in peace. I already have an event planner getting a party ready for the evening,” Max explained with a shy smile.

And there was that trademark look again from Charles. He watched him with narrowed eyes as he leaned over to take a look at the jewelry in his mother's hand. “And if she says no?” Pascale poked his side with a disapproving look. “What? It's a possibility. They've only been dating for a year. It's too early.”

Your mother let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes. “Don't listen to him, Max, I'm sure she will say yes. She loves you very much. Oh, I'm so happy for you, come here,” she said as she stood up with her arms open.

With a relieved sigh, he stood up and walked around the table to hug her. “Does this mean you have no problem with my plan?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course not!”

“I do,” Charles spoke up, earning a pointed look from his mother.

Pascale put his hands on her hips as she watched her son. “You would have a problem with any guy who tried to ask her to marry him, no matter how long they've been together. I know you want to protect her, but you can't do it forever. You have your own relationship to focus on, and I don't remember her ever having a problem with your decisions.”

Finally, your brother let out a long sigh, then nodded. “All right, you have my blessing. But remember what I told you last year,” he warned him.

“Yeah, I know, the barrier.”

Your mother's eyes moved back and forth between the two of them. “What barrier?”

When he saw the pointed look Charles gave him to shut him up, Max decided to lie. “It's more of a metaphor, nothing worth mentioning,” he said, forcing a smile on his face.

“I see,” she said, although it was clear she didn't believe a word he said. “I'm so happy for you. When will you ask Alex?” she suddenly turned to her son.

Charles almost choked on the water he was drinking. “Really? Just because she's getting engaged, I don't have to copy her right away,” he complained.

A few days later Max had his doubts about the timing. Charles won the race, becoming the national hero, so would it be fair to avert the attention away from him the next day? So he did the only thing he could think of and asked your brother if he would be okay with him going on with this as planned. He said yes, probably knowing two events with this magnitude would make you extremely happy.

Lunch was nice, you joked a lot about Oscar becoming an honorary Leclerc, but you were mostly talking about all the love your brother's been receiving since the race win. He understood that, and he truly believed this was a well-deserved win, one that's been a long time coming. He wished he had a car that could fight theirs, but right now they only had their special moments every now and then.

When you reached your destination and the two of you sat on a picnic blanket with a bottle of wine opened, Max began to feel nervous. He'd been dreaming about this for so long, even as a stupid kid he imagined spending your lives together, but now that he was supposed to pop the question he felt surprisingly uncertain. 

You took a sip of your drink before snuggling up to him, even letting out a quiet giggle when you felt him wrap an arm around your body. He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head while his free hand reached for the box in his pocket. He hesitated, wondering if this was the right time to do it, if he should give your relationship more time, but as he inhaled your sweet scent, he suddenly realized it would be foolish to waste your precious time.

So he moved his hand to yours and placed the little black box into your palm. You glanced at him with a surprised look on your face, and when he nodded to make you open it, you did exactly that. A small gasp left your lips when you realized what it was, what it meant, so he took this chance to tell you what was on his mind.

“I don't want to wait. I know we will have to sort a few things out, but I'm sure we can find a solution to everything. I travel around a lot, I know that, but if you could work remotely every now and then, we would just have to put effort into making our schedules work,” he said, his voice fading when you put up a finger to stop him.

He watched you examine the ring, taking in every little detail with a warm smile playing on your lips. “Maybe you should say those four words before giving me a speech about logistics,” you suddenly noted.

“What–Oh, right,” he said when realization hit him, then took the ring from you to do this right. “Will you marry me?” 

You let out a low, thoughtful hum instead of answering. Did you really have to think about it? But then you looked up at him with that beaming smile of yours and said yes, making him the happiest man with this single word.

“We're going to our engagement party tonight. I invited everyone who's important to us,” he announced.

“A party? And if I said no?” 

Rolling his eyes, Max let out a groan. “I swear you and Charles couldn't deny being twins if you wanted to,” he said, earning a questioning look. “That was his first question as well.”

The party in the evening was wonderful. Everyone was so happy to hear the news, and they had a lot of fun together. You and your mother disappeared for a while, and soon Charles and Arthur decided to join you in a private room, which gave him some time to talk to Alex. He needed to know what your brother truly thought of this engagement, and she surely knew something.

They sat on a couch next to each other, and she was watching him with a knowing smile over the cocktail in her hand. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

It took Max by surprise, but he was relieved to know she was willing to talk to him. “What does Charles think about this? I mean, really think? I'm sure he told you.” 

“He thinks you're taking her away from him, but that's only because they're so close. Dating someone is one thing, but planning a wedding?” She shrugged, but the kind smile was still present. “Look, he understands that this is what she wants, he knows how much you love her, so he made peace with the idea.”

Nodding, he leaned back and drank some from his cocktail. “So I have nothing to worry about?” 

“As long as you don't hurt her.”

“I'm not planning to do that,” he assured her.

Alex's smile grew even wider. “Then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

Their conversation went on for a little longer, but then it was interrupted by Lando who showed up with shots on a tray, planning to give him a speech while getting drunk together. He accepted his offer with a laugh, and Alex decided to give them space after sharing a drink with them. 

Lando had an arm wrapped around Max’s shoulder after their third shot, animatedly explaining something related to marriage, some weird theory that didn't even make much sense. How much he had drunk before was a mystery, but he was his friend, so he just listened to him with a smile. 

Hours later they all went home, and he was glad to finally have you all to himself. You spent the night talking, sleep somehow avoiding the both of you, but he didn't mind, it was nice to discuss things you were expecting from the wedding. Because you were already planning it in your head, trying to decide where to hold the reception, how many guests to invite, and what kind of dress you wanted.

And then you brought up the date. You were thinking about a month with a lower temperature, maybe in the spring, but he had a different idea. He didn't want to wait until next year. If it was up to him, the two of you would elope the next day, getting married without anyone knowing. But he knew you would want your family and friends to be there, so he was willing to settle with an alternative.

“How about this year? The beginning of September or the first half of October? We have short breaks then,” he suggested. 

You looked surprised, but despite the frown, you seemed to consider the idea. “This soon? Planning a wedding takes time, even if we get help from a professional wedding planner–”

Max smiled at you before leaning forward to give you a quick kiss. “I already took care of that. She said even a September wedding is possible if we're open to a compromise when it comes to the venue,” he told you.

“I'm not even surprised to hear that,” you said with a laugh. “So September, huh? I'll need to start looking for a wedding dress right now then.”

The next few months were challenging when it came to the races, the car wasn't performing the way it should have, but his frustration always melted away the moment his eyes fell on you, whether you were there at the track or during a video call after the race. He was always reminded that he would get to marry you soon, that all he had to do was be patient.

When the time came, he was full of energy, he was as excited as a little kid on Christmas, and he couldn't wait to hear you say yes. The thought of Charles walking you down the aisle made him smile every time because you knew how important that was to you. To the both of you. 

And when he tried to imagine what you would look like, how your dress would hug your body, how your hair and makeup would be done, he couldn't stop grinning. If there was one thing you and your brother had in common, it was the ability to look effortlessly pretty without trying.

But reality surpassed his wildest dreams, because you were breathtakingly beautiful. And his mind began to wander, he was already several steps ahead, planning to do something that could take your relationship to the next level, and his thoughts only returned to the present when the ceremony got the the I dos. 

Before the reception began, he flagged down the photographer to ask for the photos he had taken not long ago, and once you both received the pictures, he immediately posted it on Instagram. He knew he should have waited and posted a photo dump, but he was too eager to share the news of his marriage with the world.

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maxverstappen1: My best friend, my soulmate, my WIFE. I love you, sweetheart.

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Your wedding was truly a celebration of your relationship, of your future together, and the love that tied you to all those people in your lives. He was one of the three people who knew a little secret; a secret he allowed to be announced to you and your family on your wedding day.

So you two and your family members gathered in the room you had gotten ready in, and you all watched Charles who was pale as a ghost, fidgeting with his watch until Alex reached for his hand with a supportive smile.

“I know this is your big day, sis,” he began, giving you an apologetic look, “but Max let us make the announcement today since you're all here.” 

He stopped and looked over at his girlfriend, letting her be the one to get to the point. “I’m pregnant,” she said happily.

Max’s eyes never left you, he was waiting to see your reaction, and he didn't regret waiting, He saw that wide smile that appeared on your face, and heard that adorable happy squeal before you ran over to your brother to give them both a hug. That's exactly the reaction he was expecting from you, this is why he told them to make the announcement that day.

Once everyone left to have a drink while they told it to their friends too, the two of you remained in there alone, and he was quick to close the door and push your back against it before you could walk out as well. You gave him a surprised look, but he turned the lock as he kissed you fiercely, his hand moving down to your waist to keep you in place.

“I was thinking,” he began as his lips trailed along your jawline. “And before you say it, I'm definitely not turning this into some kind of competition with Charles. But remember when we talked about starting the baby project after the wedding? We are after the wedding technically, no?”

Now that you knew what he wanted, you reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him into another kiss. “We’ll have to be quick if we don't want the guests to notice,” you mumbled when you pulled away for a moment.

He gave you a disapproving look at this. “I don't care about the guests. I will take my time with you. Now, buttons or zipper?” 

“Buttons,” you replied with a quiet chuckle.

With a groan, he stepped back and moved his index finger in a circle. “Turn around,” he said. As he began the painfully slow and annoying task of unbuttoning your dress’ back, he added, “A zipper would have been so much better.”

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yourusername: Little Verstappen in the works.

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pascale.leclerc.355: I'm so glad my babies will soon have their own little families. All the best for you two!

alexandrasaintmleux: Our babies will be the best of friends ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc: But our boy will be the better driver.

⤷ maxverstappen1: You wish.

maxverstappen1: I love the both of you so much ❤️ I'm lucky to have you in my life.

arthur_leclerc: Congratulations, sis!

[If you approach a Lyon lion hungry you will see teeth]

Max had always known he wouldn't race forever, and with his son in the picture, he always made sure you were okay with him going on. Because he would spend most part of the year traveling, leaving the two of you behind, but you always told him it was okay, that you could go to a few races with him to spend some time together.

When his son became old enough, he took him karting to see if he was even interested. He had grown up watching him in F1, he saw old videos of his races against his uncle, so neither of you were surprised when at the age of six he began to talk about starting to race himself. But it wasn't his idea only, Charles's son was also hell-bent on racing. 

This is how their old rivalry continued with a new generation, although they definitely didn't hate each other off the track. It was truly heartwarming to see them celebrate together, hugging each other after a successful race. Of course, this came with the media's attention, they often wrote about the two being at the top of their category, but neither of them paid much attention to that.

The problems began when his son fell back into the midfield in the new season, because shortly after articles began to appear about his talent. Well, more like the lack of it. Some journalists thought he didn't have what it took to be as good as his father, and Max was fuming from anger every time he read one of these.

“Just don't read them,” you suggested one night after putting your son to bed. 

You sat in his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, and Max put down his phone with a sigh. “It's hard to ignore these idiots. They know absolutely nothing about him, they don't know what's going on with him behind the scenes,” he said before giving you a soft kiss.

It was true. During the break, your nephew proudly showed him an article about the two of them, so he figured he should do his own research. And all he saw were articles where journalists were comparing him to his father, analyzing his every move on the track. It put pressure on him, pressure that he apparently couldn't handle.

He didn't hesitate to take him to a psychologist, knowing perfectly well his mental health came first, but it was a slow process. The two of you did your best to help him, you always told him how good he was, that he just needed a little time to ease back into racing after the break. And you both also assured him that you would love him more than anything even if he stopped racing altogether.

“Did you read what my father said?” he asked you suddenly, and you shook your head in response. “He said that I wasn't pushing him hard enough. I swear he's out of his goddamn mind,” he said angrily. 

You placed a soft kiss on his temple, then rested your chin on top of his head. “You know what he's like. As long as you don't start acting like him–”

“I would never,” he was quick to assure you.

“I know. Limiting contact between him and our son was the best decision we could make. Let's just hope these comments don't reach our boy.”

Max began to place soft kisses on your neck, his hand slowly moving up your back under the shirt. “I love you two so much,” he mumbled against your skin. “I'll discuss what to do tomorrow. I know some journalists have been trying to reach me for a comment, if the team says it's okay to talk to them, I will. Nobody should mess with my family.”

“Just try to stay calm. I know it's been a long time since Mad Max came out to play, but we're doing fine without him,” you said with a short laugh.

He looked up at you as he captured your lips in a kiss. “I can't make any promises.”

The next day the team gave him the green light to comment on the speculations under the condition of every single word being sent via email to have proof later. Though the PR people tried to tone down his harsh reaction, Max wasn't about to let them. He wanted the journalists to know he wasn't about to let them write that bullshit about his son anymore. 

If they had a problem, they should come to him first for comment instead of publishing these pieces so anyone, including his son, could see it. If they wrote something like that, he wanted to have a quote from himself there too, mostly because he wanted his son to know his father was always in his corner.

As he waited for news about the journalists who received his comment from his team, Max saw his phone buzz on the table to signal a new message. When he checked it, he saw it was from Charles, and since he had nothing better to do, he quickly checked it.

Just as he hoped, some of the articles were extended with his comment, or in some cases brand new pieces were published. They visibly toned down the vitriol, probably understanding that they were talking about a kid, not an adult who could protect himself. He even received a message or two in which journalists apologized for the way they handled this topic. 

The perks of including two off the record sentences to make them think. “If it was your child, would you be happy to read this? Wouldn't you worry how it affects them?” he wrote.

When he got home, the first thing he did was hugging his son tightly, telling him how much he loved him, promising to play against him in the sim rig after dinner. You were watching them with a loving smile on your lips, one that drew him closer and made him kiss you softly.

“Have you checked Instagram lately?” you asked him. Raising an eyebrow, Max shook his head. With a smile, you opened it on your phone and navigated to your brother's account before giving it to him. “We can count on our family, no matter what. As long as our son has this support, everything's gonna be okay.”

When he read the caption, he couldn't help but smile. “We should show him,” he said, motioning towards your son who was writing his homework. 

You shook your head as you took back your phone. “He was the one who saw it first.”

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charles_leclerc: Like fathers, like sons. They will carry on our legacy because they are both insanely talented, and we are proud of them, no matter what happens in their careers. We love you, boys!

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yourusername: ❤️

arthur_leclerc: My nephews are badasses, don't mess with them.

user1: Those articles are disgusting, I don't get how anyone in their right mind can write that about a kid.

⤷ user2: No wonder Max finally commented on them. But it's so good to see how much he loves his son.

⤷ user3: Mad Max is back!

note 2: That's all, folks. What do you think? Feedback is always welcome.

[simpjaes]

renaissance man (p. js)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion.  or the one where jay is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and well, other things.

minors dni!! | pls reblog to show your support!

WORDCOUNT― 14.6k

PAIRING― park jongseong x afab reader 

CONTENT― fluffy comfort smut, strangers to lovers like immediately, you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 

!!ATTENTION!!― read this before? that’s because I run two blogs and like to re-vamp fics i’ve previously written for other groups! [@/ncteez is likely where you’ve read it from. THAT IS ME!!!] 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jay!!!![i am not of this belief, i think his cock is fat and huge], he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex, sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to pretend he wouldn’t want that, back scratches (sexual)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 

“I’m fine, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle your chosen toy without help.

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long that he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond. “I think I know my body well enough and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jay’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys, he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows what everyone in this town’s kinks are after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets…he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 

The guests seem to love him and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. Someone you’d wanna bring home to mom, some might say. 

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. You know, the really fucking huge one. 

 Upon meeting his eye again for the first time, he could tell it really is you, simply because of the way you furrow your brow as you recognize him. 

Jay couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him. Because it’s honestly pretty common to see someone nervous or uncomfortable while buying items far less telling than the one you bought.

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family and by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to explain what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 

He follows you down the line of dishes, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed, or perhaps even an attempt to ask you not to snitch on where else he works to make his money. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a crooked grin. 

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jay. See you around.” 

Heading away from the tables of food and toward the table that contains all of your favorite cousins, you are immediately bombarded with a raised brow from one of them. Ah, nosy. 

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing at the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. She doesn’t quite catch the way Jay’s eyes flicker back to you, over and over again, repeatedly. 

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jay? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 

His personality seems different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks its funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills before speaking to him again. 

“Just how many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. The brief break he’s taken from stealing glances so he could actually do his jobs appears to be the time you feel the need to finally approach. Still, he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not or may not be to like about him. You can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news that you’re not finding anything to raise any red flags. 

He’s bold, confidence, charming, clearly has a decent work ethic– 

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster. We have tons in stock if you wanna–” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him without alerting your family of a new future husband or something. 

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 

He pauses, easing up at the way you’re just as cheeky and playful as he is, despite being surrounded by your family. It’s mildly inappropriate, but it’s making his shift go by quickly. You’re making his shift enjoyable today, so he continues. 

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again with a brief pause, knowing the size of that dildo you bought by heart, and fully aware that it probably ripped you in half if you really managed to put that thing anywhere inside of you. “Correction, they should be worried.” 

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to take time from your family reunion to have a discussion about your plastic cock intake anyway.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare it down instead.  

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him before swirling around and walking away thinking hard about the fact that…yeah, he might actually see you sooner than he thinks. 

Honestly, maybe within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale this time. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Unfortunately for you upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. You drop your head to the steering wheel in a sigh and annoyed grunt.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny Sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you’ve been here at your parent’s house? You refuse to answer your own question.

And just as you go to accept your defeat, preparing to head back inside and take the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears. 

That savior is none other than Jay,  walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jay shakes his head apologetically. 

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m not too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jay nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock and probably already hit the sack without even cleaning up the yard.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jay looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Knowing that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in this driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 

Jay unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. 

Of course it is. 

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him. 

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about said car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, I couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jay pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 

“Was that too forward to ask?” 

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…right?” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 

Oh fuck, he’s right. 

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 

And you hear him echo your name, asking where it is that you’d like to go. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. At least, not without hanging out a few times first. 

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 

“Where to then?” 

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.” 

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. And in all fairness, you’ve been trying to find a reason to slip in your relationship status to him. 

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 

“You know, normally people don’t buy toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a really high sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes at him, trying not to stare at him for too long because goddamn is he handsome. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Pocket 2, and Jessica.”

“Jessica?” You raise a brow despite the sarcastic banter, wondering if maybe that’s based on his ex girlfriend or something. 

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 

You nod energetically with a laugh. 

“Variety is good.” You continue, not mentioning the array of toys you have stashed away. 

“Yeah, I think experimenting with different things is good. I only really liked the two I kept though, I guess.”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him because you were looking a little too fondly at that little scar on his nose, the birth mark on his neck, the way his lips crease when he swallows his drink and– yeah, you definitely glance away.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He comments, tapping the cup against his lips and looking at you.

You’re a little stunned by him, never having met a man so open to speaking like this, with a woman he barely knows no less. 

“Okay, enough about my dildo. I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Oh? Embarrassed? Since when?” He jokes at first. “What is it then?”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, seeing as how you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, studying the way you make yourself a bit smaller compared to just minutes before.

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a doll with a very normal dick?”

Jay fucking snorts. How mundane. 

Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got fem tantaly dolls and all sorts of blow up dolls but he’s never brought in just like, a torso with a cock, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You shrug. 

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, that pretty smile you’ve seen time and time again echoing the most attractive laugh you think you’ve heard in a long time. This time, his smile doesn’t fade as the seconds pass, no. He’s unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get dick-stabbed where they don’t need it mid orgasm.”

You glare. 

“Wait, no, because it actually hurts.” You frown at him. “I just wish your shop catered a little more to women who just wanna ride a dick without the dangers of riding said dick.” 

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your–” He pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. “Um…” He trails off uncomfortably, unintentionally adjusting himself in his jeans by spreading his legs slightly against your couch. 

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off. 

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself telling me that.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, knowing that all you need to do is point out that he got flustered to shut him up. You opt not to because still, the two of you barely know each other. Instead, you opt to laugh along with him, letting your gaze fall back to studying all of those features he has that you didn’t quite notice before.

While you did notice he was handsome before, it’s not like you paid that thought any mind. There are a lot of handsome men out and about after all. It only starts to matter when they allow you to get close enough to appreciate it more. Not to mention, in your experience at various sex shops, most employees of them are mundane and nonchalant. Some are strange old men, or cool old women. Jay though? Jay.

Hmm…how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his sharp jawed smile and pretty eyes. The little marks and celestial kisses against his skin that shows you of a life he’s been living. He feels…warm. Like everything about him looks comforting, smells comforting, sounds comforting. And now, even compared to when you met him at the shop, even at the reunion just this afternoon…he’s so much more handsome in this moment. 

Learning his personality, hearing his voice say your name, having him take the time to not only help you but befriend you? 

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… you don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 

“You know, Jay,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help the fluttering feeling in his chest.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It's almost two in the morning by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence. 

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you. 

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness for some reason, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite meal. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at an ungodly hour and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 

“A man.” You dead-pan, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 

You snort. 

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 

“I can imagine so, yeah.” 

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, hovering just over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 

“Was I wrong though?” 

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out on the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 

“Actually, say whatever you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to sit against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it would be stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jay seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops, realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn and face him once he comes inside. 

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 

He has no idea what the fuck you’re referring to until he sees it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jay ticks his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?” 

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 

“With you? Looks like it.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your arm and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you left your headlights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing your fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his hair hangs in front of his eyes. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that the curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing along your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks even more pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension but permanently arched in a way that makes him appear constantly moody. 

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over your head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you–” He smiles knowingly, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on one hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your core. “No promises now, though.”

You smirk, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your chuckle off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. After all, toys can’t give you the foreplay that he can.

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your waist, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right in the center of your mess  before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Goddamn, if this is how he sounds when he’s with a girl then you feel more lucky than before. You can’t imagine the amount of women who have fallen completely in love with this guy. And, before you can actually respond to him with another cheeky comment, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly between your legs, cupping you there and even scooting you up the bed with the force of how he grabs you.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 

You can feel the fabric stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good, if you’re being honest. 

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the words to just tell him yourself. 

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bear to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing him a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on his fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them as you cling to him.

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have your legs shaking. 

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 

“Pull it out.” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your needy cunt. 

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 

“Jay,” You say, slightly out of breath. 

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen constantly pressing into it. He could have gotten off from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long too, but now? 

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 

“Shit,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into you and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already cum  just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him by explaining how good your pussy feels, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.”

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your pulsing walls, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, he’s still on the same page with you. 

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jay though, he’s in love with the idea that you’ll leave a mark. 

Obsessed with the sting of it, really, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–” 

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely full. Jay really is something, or, someone. 

The two of you release together, and his lips fall slack just like yours do. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jay is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for an evening at the sex-shop. He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

[phas3d]

Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire

summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute

DRACO MALFOY

It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts

Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today

He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before

You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is

Academics, you’re better

Athletics, you’re better

Clubs and community, you’re WAY better

He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance

Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad

But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration

It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom

He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds

But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms

From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration

His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it

Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true

He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)

He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything

Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy

Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy

He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy

Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you

He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up

When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy

Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc

But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better

And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him

One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter

Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death

He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years

Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls

He plans to ruin your date and he succeed

He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food

The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up

From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you

But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug

Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again

“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry

So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage

TOM RIDDLE

Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone

This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭

But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you

He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush

But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way

He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you

But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊

He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you

Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge

But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background

He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence

Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world

And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc

Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours

He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot

So when he follows you, you think nothing of it

But in reality, he’s watching you in depth

Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is

He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned

He listens to it daily :)

Honestly, he’s just like me fr

He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you

If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold

Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence

But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space

MATTHEO RIDDLE

When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell

He was just trying to get into your pants

But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away

Instantly, he was attracted to you

He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him

He was about to do the exact same thing to you

Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move

Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day

Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭

Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them

Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them

He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more

Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get

Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts

Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received

He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable

He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)

Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are

Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen

Never ever gives up on you, no matter what

Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed

One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out

Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him

But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month

Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength

Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet

If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return

If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates

It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet

Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating

Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple

One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant

But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(

But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating

THEODORE NOTT

He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that

You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped

And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone

Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you

When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”

He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said

“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”

When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot

Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants

With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years

You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends

He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option

He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful

Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous

He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner

Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you

Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”

You two are basically dating… just without an official title

He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him

Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭

Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH

He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project

Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way

Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him

Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do

Spoils you ROTTEN omg

Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you

He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband

Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum

“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform

He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down

Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them

He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you

Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best

You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did

Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone

Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”

But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you

They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything

But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd

Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit

He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you

He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly

Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him

read more here! :D

[ozzgin]

A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

[Part 2] | [More original works]

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

[natti-ice]

Can I PLEASE have some Colin bridgerton smut? My man deserves it he's so overlooked by Anthony and Benedict that no one barely writes for him and it makes me sadd :(

Imagine you and Colin are on travel(or a honeymoon even) and he just ruins you on a balcony ofc you scold him for it but it's not like he would listen to you

Pairing: Colin Bridegerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+mdni, groping, teasing, clit play, semi public sex, p in v, creampie. (1.3k words)

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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You're standing outside on the small terrace right outside your bedroom of the chateau you've been staying at for the past few days, the warm summer air blows gently across your skin as you watch the sun set in the distance. Your week has been quite hectic with all the traveling you and your now husband Colin have been doing, he always promised you that once you were wed he would show you the world and he's done very well at keeping his word. The day after your wedding the two of you set off into adventure, stopping off in many cities in England before working your way through Europe.

You were amazed at just how grand everything was outside of your city, you had grown so accustomed to the high social life you were brought up in, it never crossed your mind that others did not live the way you did, and when you found out, it was life changing. In such a short amount of time you had learned so much from the people you and Colin came across, he's quite the tour guide, he shows you to all of the best places for food and always seems to find the most unique forms of entertainment. You were so grateful to have such a special husband, most of the other suitors were bland and didn't care for culture but Colin was different, he had a thirst for exploration and he wanted you to come along.

Though he loved to travel around and see the sights, he also loved to spend time with you. More importantly, time alone... that man hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself since you both said "I do", his hands mindlessly wander around your body at any given moment, the feeling of his rough callused hands sent a rush through your body and he knew exactly what you were feeling. It was almost if he got off on making you shiver, seeing you try to pretend you don't feel anything when his fingers graze the back of your neck while talking to some local about the price of fish in his small town really gets him going.

You were lost in thought and didn't hear the footsteps creeping up behind you until suddenly long, toned, muscular arms wrapped around your frame causing you to jump. You hear his soft chuckle and immediately realize it was your husband, "my apologies dear, I didn't mean to startle you" your heart was already racing because of his sneak up but it pounded a little harder when his hands started to caress your sides so lovingly.

You let out a soft chuckle and lean against his chest "it's alright my love, my mind was in another word" you say, then you feel his hands starting to make their way up to your chest, his large calloused hands cup your breasts through the thin fabric of the nightie that clung to your body. A gasp gets caught in your throat as you feel yourself becoming more aroused, "Colin, we mustn't do this out here, the staff will see."

Colin's warm breath fanned on the nape of your neck leaving goosebumps in its wake as he whispers "we'll give them a good show, lord knows this place lacks entertainment." Despite your protests he continues to indulge in your body, you look over the balcony to see maids hanging up laundry to dry in the distance, surely if the looked up they could see you but in this moment you stopped caring. Your love and lust for Colin was much too strong to fight.

He moved one hand slowly down your front and lifted the hem of your dress to expose your undergarments that were now damp with your arousal, Colin runs his middle and ring fingers teasingly over your clothed slit sending a shiver down your spine. "Mmm, you're already so wet for me. Just how I like you." His dirty words make you feel like the only woman in the world, the pleasure he gives you is unlike anything you have ever experienced and you know you'll never find anything that will compare. His fingers found their way into your panties and he begun teasing your swollen clit with the pads of his fingers, you fought back moans, you didn't want him to know the effects he had on you but he was already well versed in your pleasure.

The hand that was still on your breast made its way you your neck, he held it gently but firm enough that you knew you weren't going anywhere.

"Tell me what you want, dear. Tell me what you crave." He whispers huskily into your ear, his desire for you strong in each of his words. His fingers slowly circled around your entrance, giving you a teasing taste of what's to come if you just ask.

"You," you let out breathlessly, "I want you." He hums as he is delighted by your response and pulls his hand from your clit making you whimper softly with need, he takes his hand off of your throat to quickly pull down his sleeping pants. You feel his hardened cock against your ass as he pulls up the fabric of your nightgown, his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and pull them down to your ankles. He spreads your legs with his knee and pushes your back forward slowly, your chest presses against the cool metal of the railing in front of you. He takes your hands and makes you grip the rail as he teasingly says "you might want to hold on, dear."

He lines himself up behind you and slowly runs his tip between your folds before pushing his length into your dripping pussy, your body shakes slightly as your senses are taken over by pleasure. He starts slow, rocking his hips against yours as he holds onto your waist firmly to keep you in place, his cock stretches you out deliciously making you moan softly. Your sounds encourage him to go harder, it's taking everything in him to not completely ruin you right now, he wants to prolong the experience to make sure you feel everything. Once he sets a good pace, that's when he starts to have fun with you. He snakes one hand under your bunched up dress and palms your bare tit, he groans into your ear as he pinches your hard nipple, "you feel so fucking good, fit so perfectly around my cock." You can't fight it anymore, you let your moans fly freely for the world to hear, you'll probably regret it later but you don't care right now.

You were certain everyone in the whole estate knew exactly what was taking place, your loud moans bounced off the walls as you came all over his cock, Colin was in complete ecstasy and couldn't care less about any onlookers. Let them watch. Let them see who owns you.

A few more pumps into your tight channel was all it took to send Colin over the edge, he groaned loudly as his hips bucked against you whilst his seed flooded your womb. He panted heavily as he slowly pulled out of you, both of your fluids covered his length in a beautifully raunchy mess. You slowly stood up straight and turned around to face him, the smile on his face matched yours as you both began to giggle softly. You feel so relaxed but you were still a bit embarrassed about allowing him to take you so publicly. "Colin Bridgerton, you are a very scandalous man" you say teasingly and lightly hit his left peck, he laughs heartily at your comment and takes your hand,  bringing it to his mouth and placing a soft, loving kiss to it. "My apologies, dear. You are too irresistible, I cannot contain my desire for you." He says with a smile and helps you straighten out your clothing before leading you back into your bedroom where he will most likely repeat the events that just transpired.

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Tag list: @let-love-bleeds-red @lovelyy-moonlight @themadhattersqueen @artzygurl

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[angelfrombeneth]

SECRET - A . DONALDSON

Sexual Content Ahead

Art Donaldson x Fem!ChubbyReader

Summary: Where you and Art are 'secretly' hooking up without your friends knowing.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Born with barely any plot, Art is slightly pathetic in this, Reader loves a cheeky ass grab.

Note: This one is a quick one I rushed, because I'm writing a nice long Art fic for yall. So please enjoy this for now.

If you told yourself 3 years ago that you'd be sat on some bleachers watching tennis you wouldn't believe it.

You were never interested in tennis, you knew about it obviously but it was never your thing.

You came to Stanford as an international student due to the fat scholarship you recieved so you packed your bags from London to California.

That is where you met Tashi Duncan, your best friend. She introduced herself to you one day in the library after hearing you tap away to the music playing in your headphones. It was a close call, she saved you from another warning from the librarian.

Tashi and you were inseparable. Learning about eachother more you discovered she played tennis and was quite well known but you had no clue. She found this a breath of fresh air as everyone knew of her some how. She put it down to the fact your from a different country additionally to your lack of interest of the sport.

Tashi coaxed you to come watch her warm ups and games - which you did being a great friend. But you sported to opening your sketchbook and sketching out the scene infront of you additionally. Might aswell do a research project on human posing and what better sport that tennis.

After your first semester you noticed Tashi always hanging out with this tall lanky man. He seemed nice but, you'd never seen him around. She told you he was her 'thing' which made you both laugh over lunch one time. She had mentioned he will be around alot more and he has a friend and that's when you met Art Donaldson, and well. The rest is history.

It had been a good year since you met Patrick and Art and you four were now a little quad. Despite the three of them being raging tennis players and you just sat on the side line they didn't mind.

You did try to take up a sport but it just wasn't for you, after Tashi found you face down in a bush after a 100m sprint.

You were watching Art play against someone from another University - you weren't listening to their name though.

Tashi and Patrick sat beside you, gasping and groaning, cheering and whooping at what was going on in the game but you only knew so much.

In the year you've known Art, you two had a great bond and tend to.. dip into eachothers bonds from time to time. You had no clue if Tashi or Patrick knew about your occasional flings with Art, you both never aired it nor got caught it just happened sometimes.

But as of late, you can't take your eyes off him. The way his shorts ride up his muscly thighs as he jumps from one end of the court to the other. The way his hair bounces but also sticks to his forehead due to his sweat. You were slightly obsessed.

You wouldn't say you had feelings for him, it never got deep enough for that. But you craved him. You craved every single inch of him and how he'd just melt into your hand.

"COME ON!!" You jump slightly as you were ripped out of your daydream as Tashi flew up beside you screaming as you looked at Art celebrating on the court.

You smiled, standing up and clapping as you grabbed everyone's coats and bags as Tashi and Patrick dashed off to see Art.

Climbing down the stairs was tricky balancing everything but as soon as you saw Tashi and Patrick bust through the door of the court as they piled onto Art you smiled. Walking towards them as you put down the stuff.

Art turned to you smiling, walking up to you and pulling you in for a hug. It wasn't unusual just took you off guard.

"We should celebrate! Let's go out for dinner" Tashi smiled.

"I love a good dinner" You smiled as they all chuckled at you.

You got changed for the dinner into a little black dress, you can never go wrong with it. Tashi texted you earlier her and Patrick will be late - which you assumed they were fucking in his car yet again. Dinners cancelled you assumed.

You walked over to Arts dorm, knocking on the door as it swung open to reveal a slightly disheaved Art as he stared at you. Shirtless and in the tightest pair of shorts ever.

"Did you forget we are going to dinner-"

"No- I was just.. working out" He spoke slightly.

You looked him up and down, a knowing smirk on your face.

"You can't hide it from me" You laughed. Art's face contorted as he looked at you confused as you swiped your hand over the very obvious bulge in his boxers before walking past him into his room.

He doubled over, groaning as he shut the door as you laughed, sitting on his desk chair.

"I thought Tashi was taking you to the restaurant?" He dove onto his bed, laying on his stomach as he scrunched a pillow up at leaned against it looking at you. God he looked so pathetic. Ass up and everything.

"Seems she got preoccupied with Patrick, I got this" You pulled up the text and turned it around to show Art.

"We definitely won't make it to the restaurant now" He laughed.

You stood up, dropping your bag on the chair as you walked over to Art, sitting by his head as he looked up at you.

"What do you wanna do then?" You caressed his cheek, smiling down at him.

"I have a few ideas.." His head turned to kiss your palm as his lips made its way up your arm till he was on his knees infront of you.

You stared at him blankly, sucking in your bottom lip as you took in the situation. You both paused for a brief moment staring at eachother.

You leaned in, kissing him roughly as your hands dropped to his back, pulling him closer as his hands slid up the back of your dress as he squeezed your ass. One thing about Art he loved your ass.

The pair of you tumbling with one another as you yanked down his boxers slightly as the back, grabbing a chunk of his ass with his hand as you sucked onto his tongue. A soft moan leaving his lips as you yanked down his boxers completely rolling over as you caged him below you.

"Mm- want you- s'bad" You pulled at his lip as you sucked on it, grinding down against his bare cock as you reached to pull your dress off in one swift motion.

"Fuck- good girl-" He groaned as he unclasped your bra throwing it off as he pulled your neck and pulled you back into another kiss. It was passionate but needy. The way his tongue slipped in and out of your mouth had you yearning for more. You reached down to wriggle out of your panties as you kicked them off to the side before you held the base of his dick. Running it between your slit as you gasped, pulling away from the kiss.

You bit your lip, sighing as you bucked your hips against his tip. Your hands sliding up over your breasts as you peered down at him. "You piss me off how fucking hot you are. Why are you so fucking hot" You groaned, grinding down harder against him as he harshly gasped.

"Shut up" He whined lightly as he grabbed your hip, lifting you up so he could grab his cock and curve it up towards your entrance as he dropped you down against his abdomen as his cock slipped up inside of you. "Fuck-" You both yelped in unison.

You peered down at him, chuckling softly as you let out soft moans as you rocked back and forth against him. "Oh fuck-" You grit your teeth as your hand slid down his chest as you rocked back and forth. Your thighs slightly twitching as your eyes threatened to roll back.

"Such a good girl f'me aren't you" He smirked, sliding a hand up overs your stomach. This was something Art tended to do. You knew you were chubbier that other girls you'd seen him with before but he was definitely into it. His smile grew as he slid them further up to grip your breast as he squeezed and toyed with it.

You smirked down at him, leaning forward slightly, pecking his lips as your ass rebounded against his abdomen as you dropped down on him continously as you rode him.

"Good.." You spoke with breathy moans as light whines escaped Art's lips as he stared into your eyes. It was pathetic. He was pathetic. The way his eyes watched you.

His hands dropped from your breasts, gripping onto the plush of your thighs as he whined slightly, spreading his legs below you.

You could feel his hips thrusting up into your for more, as you bit your lip moaning lightly. "Yessss~ fuck. Art- s-so good" You yelped as his hands gripped your waist before flipping you onto your back. The movement shocked you but the second he got his balance he began to piston into you.

You reached back, grabbing the headboard of the bed as you yelped. Whines and moans pouring from your mouth as Art demolished you. His hips slamming into you. His balls slapping into your ass as the bed creaked below the pair of you. One of his hands, gripping at a chunk of your thigh as his thumb caressed against the skin. The other, reaching for one of yours as your fingers interlocked with one another.

You reached forward grabbing his ass harshly with your free hand, as you squeezed it, looking up at him, biting your lip.

His mouth ghosting over yours as he let out soft whines and groans - just like he does in tennis. Fuck do you love the sounds he makes when he's playing fucking tennis...

"Yes- Fuck Art please.. Harder" you groaned, your hand removing from his as they both flew to his back, your nails scratched down it as he pounded harder into you.

His groans got louder and needier, as his hands returned to your chunk sides, his fingers dug harder into your hip. His thrusts became sloppier, you knew he was close.

Art threw your legs over his shoulders as he slammed back into you. A guttural moan yelping from your throat as you shrieked, his pace quickening as you whined. Your nails digging into his shoulder as your back arched down against him as your eyes rolled back as you drew closer to your climax.

He knew you were close abd so was he. He continue to pump into you as fast as he could till you both came undone. Both cumming together, his head hung low as he watched a mixture of your releases create a ring at the bottom of his cock as he thrusted a few more times, dragging the pair of you through the high.

"Fuck-" He groaned as he pulled out, biting his lip as he leaned back on his legs as he stared down at you panting.

You looked at the disheaved boy infront of you, you couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle as he panted.

"S'good as always" You smiled, sitting up as you pecked his lips.

Art leaned forward, kissing you deeper as his hand snaked around your neck, pulling you closer as he kissed you. You hummed softly, your tongue swiping over his lips as the kiss grew more heated.

Before the pair of you could even consider a second round a loud string of knocks banged against the door.

The two of you pulled away and froze. Your hand pressed against his chest, your other frozen as you stroked his cock. His hands cupping your face as the pair of you just stared at each other.

After a while no knocks were heard so you were going to continue till another string of loud knocks.

"Fuck" You hissed as the pair of you both stood up, grabbing your clothes as you tried to quickly dress.

Your dress nowhere to be seen amongst the large pile of clothes. "Art where the fuck is my dress-" You whispered shouted.

"Shhh!-" He quipped. You grabbed his dress shirt he was wearing off the floor and threw it on over your underwear. He was scrambling around the room looking for his shirt when he looked at you wearing it.

He quickly pulled on his trousers and opened his wardrobe for a tshirt as he stumbled to the door. You stood behind him.

You don't know what you both expected or who you expected to be behind the door. But the colour drained from both of your faces as the door revealed your two friends.

"I texted you Y/N that we were outside 10 minutes ago but I can see you were occupied" Tashi raises her eyebrow, a sickly smirk across her face.

You gulped as you stared at her, smiling awkwardly.

"Tash- did you figure out where Y/N was-" Patrick's voice could be heard down the hall as he gained closer to the door. Stopping behind Tashi as he stared at you and Art. "Fucking knew it" He laughed.

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[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: Yuji decides to take his friends lack of sex life into his own hands (quite literally).

warning :: Normal AU, Yuji is extremely forward (highkey yandere), fingering, hand job, public sex, jealousy, also fighting.

note :: collage/univeristy AU. Reader and Yuji are in their second years of studying. This took way longer than what I thought it would.

“Who’re you texting?” Yuji asked.

“Nobody.” You giggled.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“This guy.” You grinned, tapping away at your phone. “He’s taking me out tonight.”

“Oh yeah, where’s he taking you?” Yuji asked, hands hidden deep in his pockets, peaking over your shoulder at the phone in your hands.

“Stop looking Yuji.” You twisted your body away from him, but he followed you.

“Come on, I should know where you’re going. What if this guy is a total jerk?”

“He won’t be,” You sigh, shaking your head. “He might even be the one.” You simply state. Though, ‘the one to take you to bed’ might’ve been a better description.

“You seriously think that?” Yuji’s tone goes limp, but his face still hangs a smile.

“You know that fancy place next to KFC? On the main road?” He nodded. “We’re going to be eating there.”

“That’s crazy, ‘cause I’m going to that KFC with Choso tonight.” He turned from your gaze. A telltale sign of fibbing that caused you to lift your brow.

“That so?” You asked, elbowing his side. He shrugged then nodded, his lips threatening to grin. “I can take care of myself, you know.” You added.

“You think so?” He jested, however the comment struck a heart string.

“Yes. Don’t you?” You carefully questioned.

He choked on your serious tone. “I, I guess. Well, maybe? You’re not super strong.”

“But I’m not a baby. I’m not helpless.”

He seemed to find that implication funny, because he laughed. “Is that why you call me when you’re scared to walk home in the dark?”

“Yuji that’s— that’s different. I’ve been talking to this guy, I know him.”

Seemingly confused by how this conversation lead to you being offended but not willing to back down he commented again. “Then why have I never heard about him?”

“You’ve never heard of him because I don’t like telling you about this stuff.” You added, softer, retracting your lips into a thin line when you saw how it made Yuji’s eyes narrow.

“Why not?” He asked, now taking offence himself.

“Because you mess things up for me.” You broke contact with his eyes, darting down to his shoes. “I don’t like being upset with you, Itadori, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He stated. You hiccuped at his harshness. "I just don't want you to waste your time on trash men."

Yuji had, without a doubt, been a stain on your dating life and by proxy, your sex life. Most commonly, he’d stall you to make you unfashionably late to a date. Other times he’d ask you to cancel them and spend time with him instead. Most recently he’d made the impression that you two were already a couple to a boy that pucked up the courage to tell you, you were cute.

It felt like you were being suffocated by his attention, and starved of other men’s.

“I need to leave soon, Yuji, let’s finish hanging out and not let this ruin our fun.”

Despite his unusual clinginess, you hated to fight with him.

“You know Itadori has the hots for you, right?” Nobara grimaced.

You laughed. “Don’t be stupid. He’s literally my bestie.”

“Just because you feel that way, doesn’t mean he does.” She warned. "Don't you see the way he clings to you? The way he hates when you hang around me or Megumi?"

"I guess. He's just like that though."

"He's like that for you, girl."

"But I feel that way about him, too. I don't love it when he spends all his time with his brother, or watching movies. I prefer when we hang out." Nobara stared at you with narrow eyes and an expression that could only be described as her trying to figure out if you were dumb, or just blissfully ignorant. Or both. "When you're super close with someone, that's just the way it is."

"Sure, girl. Sure."

To say Yuji was your friend would be an understatement. Best friend wasn’t quite right either. If there was another a higher title, it would belong to him. He was the first to call when you had some tea to spill, first to text when you didn’t know what to wear out, your go to man in an emergency.

To Yuji, the term best friend didn’t even come close to describing how he felt about you. You were his everything.

Later in the day, his phone pinged, you'd posted something. It was an image of you in a glimmering dress on your Instagram story. The hem ended just above your knees, and clung to your body like wet fabric.

The sight was utterly cloying, though his heart squeezed painfully to know you were dressed that way for a man he didn’t even know. He screenshotted the image, adding it to his photos.

What Yuji hadn't thought to consider, was the lace set hiding beneath the dress. You were hoping for the best. That was all.

Upon arriving to your date, you were greeted with an aloof ‘hello’, a small peak into how the rest of your date would continue.

Yuji hadn’t managed to convince his brother to join in stalking your date. Suggesting that he leave you to your date and that he shouldn’t get involved in your love life, citing that it’ll messy your friendship.

He promptly ignored Choso’s advice.

So, Yuji sat next door to your restaurant chewing on some hot chips with an unimpressed look on his face. He opened his photos, gazing at you in your dress. He swallowed thickly, forcing his phone down. He just wanted to be sure you were okay. That was it. He wouldn't get in the way. He'd rather see you with someone else, than be mad at him.

His churning gut seemed to disagree with that thought, though.

After being seated at a booth, you smiled kindly at your date. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” He answered curtly. You grimaced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to suggest a last minute date to a guy you’d only been texting for a day (yes, you'd lied to Yuji about know him). But God you just wanted to get laid.

“What did you get up to?”

“Nothing much.”

This was going nowhere.

It had taken an hour before you’d finally given up on making conversation. You ate, spent some minutes in the bathroom to kill time, paid and left. How embarrassing, you'd come all this way and put so much effort into how you looked only to be blown off. It made you wish you'd been kinder to Yuji.

You picked up your phone, and sent a text to him.

‘Hey, did you end up eating next door? I’m finished with my date.’

‘I did yeah. How’d it go?’ He responded.

‘Average.’

Yuji’s chest filled. He'd been blessed with a second chance and now was his moment to swoop in and cheer you up.

You sat outside, the night air whipping at your exposed skin. You hadn’t prepared for the cold. A cardigan would’ve ruined your look, after all. You assured yourself before leaving that you’d be in a warm restaurant for half the night, then be spending the rest in his or your bed. There was no need to layer up.

Yuji spotted you, calling your name before taking a seat on the bench you sat at. “Hey, how’d you go?” He beamed. His brightness felt like a layer of warmth around your skin.

“Hey Yuji.” You sighed, finding his smile contagiously reaching your lips.

“Where’s the guy? Didn’t he wait for you?” He looked over the streets, glazing over the lack of strangers around.

“Nope.”

“What an asshole.” He pat your knee, leaving his hand there as a supportive contact.

"You can say it now." You murmured into the palm of your hands.

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down. Yeah? His loss.”

“I know. I know.” You nodded, tiredly. “He’s not worth my time. I just- ugh.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly, not caring to maintain your eye makeup any longer.

“You’re really upset, aren’t you?” He asked, the hand resting on your knee clenched.

“Not for the reason you think, Yuji…” You shamefully murmured.

“So he wasn’t the one?”

“Of course not. I just… wanted to be with someone tonight.” You exhaled, letting the confession rise off your chest.

“You can be with me.” He added, a cheerful sombreness to his tone. “We’ll hang out.”

“Not like that, Yuji.” You cleared your throat. “I- uh. Never mind.”

“What?” He pressed, searching for the confession in your eyes. The hand cradling your knee edged inward to the softer side of your thigh, the movement went unnoticed by you.

“I’m- well.” You exhaled. The two of you were best friends, you could be honest with him. “I’m horny, Yuji. I haven't been able to get laid in forever because- well.” You reframed, now wasn’t the time to bring up an old argument. “I wanted to fool around with this guy.” You finished.

“We can do that too.” He cut, quickly. His hand fell further, you noticed only because it made you burn.

“What?” You shifted, but his hand still remained.

“That guy wouldn’t have gotten the job done. He was probably a loser.”

“Yuji- what did you just say?”

“If you just want to feel good, I can help.” Again his hand inched inward, now flirting with the hem of your dress. Your legs flinched open, the quick reflex tightened Yuji’s chest and his pants.

“Itadori…” You warned, though it passed your lips as a weak willed relent.

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He’d come so close now, breath patting your nape.

"We're in public." You huffed, eyeing his thick, tanned hand. His fingers cratered against your skin, kneading the flesh with a stunted hunger. He was attempting to be smooth, but he'd yearned for this too long.

"Nobody is around. Its dark. You said you're horny, didn't you? I can help. Let me help." He trailed further.

Yuji made contact to your clothed sex. His pinky finger pressed into you cautiously. You’d immediately lost all reserve. Your pussy grabbed at your brain, shoving away the regretful thoughts and forcing your legs to open wider.

With nothing but your body’s reaction to guide him, Yuji’s fingers began to rub up and down your cunt outline, focusing on the bump that was your clit.

“How does that feel?” He asked quietly.

“Weird.” You uttered, grasping at your own thighs, struggling to keep your legs open to him.

“Why?” He leaned closer.

“You’re my friend, Yuji.” You looked anywhere but at the boy.

“Why should that matter?”

You fumbled an answer. “Because friends don’t do this.”

“Some do.”

“But not us…” You drawled.

Yuji ignored you and nosed your cheek, closing in on your lips. By this point, he leaned so close that you had no room to back away.

His tongue licked your bottom lip and you grunted at the thought of it being further south. He swallowed the sound, having his free hand cradle your neck and pull you into him.

With a shameless passion, Yuji overran your mouth. His hand stunted at your pussy, his thoughts wrongly focused on your locked lips. You whined and he devoured that sound from you too.

“Yuji,” You pushed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He licked his lips, wiping away your shared saliva that lingered on the back of his sleeve. He gazed at the area covered by your dress. “Can I see?” He asked. Unsureness flashed in your gaze. "Please?"

You’d become completely obsequious to his advances. “Just for a second.” Anything to get him to start palming you again.

Yuji leaned, pulling up your dress and revealing the sight he’d only dreamed of. He moaned. You gaped, now keenly aware of your surroundings.

“Fuckin’ hot.” He murmured. The words made you gush.

Now his eyes couldn’t be ripped from your underwear, mentally taking screenshots to save for himself. He’d never need to watch porn again.

Another thought crossed his mind and his brow furrowed. He sat up, coming dangerously close to your face.

“You were going to let another guy see you like this?” His palm pressed hard against your clit. You twitched.

“You’re acting like I cheated on you, Yuji…” You wearily commented.

Shit, he’d almost ruined it.

He kissed your neck, running his tongue cross your pulse. It hadn’t completely distract you from his possessive question. “Maybe we should stop.” You whispered.

emphatically, his hand pushed past the fabric of your underwear. His index and middle finger parted around your clit, drawing this thick fingers down with your nerve bundle sandwiched between.

“Yuji!” You breathed, hands shooting to grasp his forearm.

“Shouldn’t say things if you don’t want them.” He murmured. His fingers dove to your entrance, pulling slick up and around your clit, rubbing the juices into your skin. “You want this, don’t you? Want me?”

You avoided the answer and his hand halted.

“Say you want me.” He uttered coolly.

Your hips stuttered, but Yuji didn’t budge. Holding you at orgasmic gunpoint, your lips parted. “I want you, Yuji.”

He continued with a new found passion, drawing his fingers up and down your clit with a kind pace, no longer tantalising you.

His lips pressed against your jaw and cheek until they found your mouth. He tongued you once more, loving the way you opened yourself to him and how he utterly devoured you. You couldn’t keep up with his passion.

Your legs clamped, but he pulled you open again with one hand, continuing to slide between your clit and eating the moans it ripped from you.

The orgasm hit you quickly, faltering fast through your legs and feet. You groaned into Yuji’s mouth, body going limp. His hand quickened, adding pressure to your suddenly raw clit. Your hips retracted.

“I came! I came.” You broke, tapping on his forearm. He halted, wide eyes gazing at your post-orgasm state. He wished he could’ve recorded every second of him making you cum.

You pushed against his forearm and, regretfully, he pulled his hand away from your sex. You watched with wide eyes as he brought his pruned fingers to his mouth and licked at the slick covering them.

You were too staggered to utter a word.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked.

“I, uhm, yeah.” You nodded, staring at the ground with glazed eyes. You'd just cum on the hand of your closest friend.

“Good.” He added.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension stabbed at the both of you. As if knowing your thoughts would start to circle around regret, Yuji continued to speak. “I’ll drive you back to my dorm, we can hang out now that you're done with your date.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” You spoke breathlessly.

The ride home was ear ringingly silent.

Yuji couldn't find an excuse to talk and you were too booked out with the thoughts racing your mind to respond with anything but a 'mhm.'

Nobara was right. Yuji wasn't the type to help a friend get off just because, right? He must've liked you or at the very least lusted after you. Were you okay with either of those options?

Inside his dorm room, you planted yourself on his floor, mind still wrecked. He eased next to you, finding the words to break the glass-like silence.

Worry creased his face. He came onto you too soon, too fast. "Do you want to pl-"

"So do you like me?" You asked, eyes wide with tension.

"Yeah." He grinned shyly. "Wasn't that obvious?"

Yes. It was. It fucking was. You were just as blind as a deaf bat with cataracts.

"Do you... like me too?"

"I, I don't know." You threw your head back and grunted. "Shit."

"Don't stress, it's fine."

"Not really." You couldn't stop thinking about the fact he made you cum less than an hour ago and you didn't know if you liked him? You loved him, sure, but did you love him? He was handsome, funny, good with hands apparently. "How long?" You asked.

"A while." He scratched the back of his neck. "A long while, actually."

You were surely going to hell. Here your friend was, spilling his heart out to you and all you could think about was having his hands touch more of you. You couldn't help but eye his crotch, was he still hard from before? You couldn't tell.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. Your eyes darted to his face.

"Well," You fiddled with your index finger. "You never got off, so I feel bad."

His cheeks flushed. "Me? No, that's fine. We should talk. Don't worry about that."

"Okay," Your hand slipped to his hip, resting on his side. "Keep talking, then." Hell for sure.

"Well I, uh, I always thought you were pretty," Your fingers skimmed over the elastic of his pants. "And hot." He added, eyes lidding.

"Does anyone else know?" You asked.

"Probably." He sucked in through his teeth as your hand began to retreat. "I mean, Fushiguro is pretty perceptive. I think Choso knows too."

You traced his v-line with your fingernail. He'd already gone hard.

"kugisaki, probably. Are you-?"

"Just keep talking. I'm listening."

"I… I realised maybe a year ago." You slipped a finger under his pants. "You started dating. I hated it. I thought I'd get over it but-" You raked through his pubes, inching closer to his shaft. He exhaled steadily. "I heard you started having sex. I tried to butt in whenever I could after that."

"Jealous." You stated, finally sliding over his dick.

"Big time." He attempted to steady himself again, hands clenching into white fists. "Was it good with them? The sex?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Yuji."

"Fuck. Sorry." He exhaled. "We got super close, I just, needed more of you."

You gripped him and he rutted into your hand.

"Love you a lot." He huffed. You gripped him harder. "F-Fuck."

He fucked your hand carefully. Scared that if he did it too fast or hard, you'd let go and leave him. You joined in the motion, spreading the pre from his head over his shaft and pumping him.

He'd gone wordless, mouth hanging open whilst uttering gasping grunts. His eyes rolled to you, deep brown's watching you.

"Stop staring..." You muffled, hand covering your face.

"You're so beautiful." He grunts. "Kiss me."

You do, and just like before he pashes you with greedy intent. You pull away before he can kiss you too deeply, he follows you, grunting against your parting lips.

"Feel good?" You ask.

"Feels amazing, baby. A little faster, please." He bucks his hips again until you comply, stroking him quicker. "Perfect, that's perfect." His grunts become breathy, turning into weak moans.

You've never seen Yuji like this before, the only comparison being him puffed after working out too hard. But this, you've never seen. You loved every twitch of his body and every noise spurting from his mouth.

You rubbed your index finger over his head and his hand grabbed at your thigh, squeezing you hard. "Fuck." He cursed.

Tortuously, you began to focus on rubbing up and down his tip. His breaths became rapid, chest rising and falling ridiculously fast.

"Fuck baby, don't stop."

You mewled at pain his tight grip caused you and his dick twitched. You leaned against his shoulder pressing your face to his neck. "Love you, Yuji."

Those words sent him over the edge. He cursed again, louder than before and you knew by the way he squeezed your thigh it would bruise tomorrow. You felt hot spurts of semen leak onto your fingers as you let him fuck your hand until his orgasm passed and his loud curses settled into fucked out whimpers. He'd gone limp now, panting.

You let go of him, causing Yuji to utter another weak groan. Pulling your hand out, you gazed at his cum coating your skin.

He watched you bring it up to your mouth and lick some with the end of your tongue. He was suddenly hard all over again. He grunted at the arousal.

Salty, you thought.

"Let's date." He stated, still breathy. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. "I don't have to be your boyfriend, not yet. We'll just go out. On dates."

"Yuji,"

"You could stay over more often, we could watch movies, cuddle." His eyes slipped over your cum covered hand. "We could do this more. You don't have to love me right away, but at least give us a shot. I-"

"Yuji, shush," You sighed, grinning. You laid against the floor, somewhat breathless yourself. "Let's date." You nodded.

He pumped a fist in the air, quietly uttering a victory. You laughed. "You're going to wish you fell for me sooner, I promise. You'll see what a good boyfriend I can be."

"So you are my boyfriend now?" You jested, raising a suspicious look at him.

"I will be." He stated. "You'll see."

[wonwoonlight]

take a chance / jeon wonwoo

Wonwoo x Reader // 1.7k words // nothing but fluff lol they're idiots

a/n: if you cant tell im absolutely insane abt this wonwoo. 100000% self indulgent and 100% not proofread as always ehe <3 v lowkey inspired also by niki - take a chance with me

He drives me crazy, it's so beyond me

How he'd look at me dead in the eye and stay unaware

Niki - Take A Chance with Me

[☆]

Wonwoo has never really been interested in romance.

When he was six and his friends started talking about girls were icky, he couldn't have cared enough to even think about girls in particular.

When he was fourteen and his close cousin who was practically his big brother told him about his first girlfriend, Wonwoo had simply nodded and congratulated him because the older guy looked like he was waiting for it even though he didn't get what's there to congratulate.

When he was seventeen and another cousin got married, he thought a little about what it'd be like to commit yourself for the rest of your life to another person.

Anyhow, now he's twenty seven and still pretty much free from the dating experience.

He just simply couldn't be bothered to try nor was he even curious enough to try.

There's too much risk. Too much things to do. Too many factors to think about. It's too complicated and Wonwoo has never been a fan of complicated.

Sure, the older he gets the more he understands about the attraction and whatnot. But the few dates that he has been on (which he could count with his two hands) was entirely due to his friends setting up with someone and his inability to say no the second time even though he did reject their so-called-help the first time around.

They eventually get the hint and stop setting Wonwoo up on a blind date.

He never sees romance as a necessity and he doesn't feel the need to have a partner, what is there more to say?

“I lost the floor 12 Abyss again.” You pout, half tempted to throw away the joystick in your hands. “I'm never playing this game again, I'm telling you.”

Wonwoo chuckles and tells you to move as he slides next to you, taking the joystick away and getting ready to restart your game.

“You just suck at this.” He teases, not minding your glare because he's way too used to it at this point. “And you say that everytime but here you are, still playing.”

“Shut up.” You pout, both impressed and unimpressed at the way he easily goes through the stages.

“Done.” He grins, all nine shining stars looking back at you.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don't.”

“I do!” You take back the joystick from him and close the window. “You don't even play this game! This is bullshit!”

He laughs under his breath and ruffles your hair, saying something about how he can't help being good at it.

You like that side of Wonwoo, as you often tell him, because people have always said that Wonwoo is quiet–that he doesn't talk a lot and it could be awkward being left alone with him.

And whilst it's not entirely untrue and you've been there too, you also know that Wonwoo is much more than his lack of words.

Wonwoo talks a lot once he's comfortable. You just need to be very patient and understanding about his silence before he gets there.

You… have been plenty patient, amongst other things.

You're patient enough to get where you are even though you've never imagined you'd get here.

Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to be comfortable with you that he doesn't mind inviting you over to his place with no other companies.

Here, meaning being close enough with Wonwoo for him to not mind the fact that you like him and not act weird about it.

Here, meaning being close with Wonwoo despite the fact that you've confessed to him about your feelings but you're still here in his place, right next to him with not a single air of awkwardness between you two.

Turning off the Playstation, you settle on Wonwoo's sofa and decide to scroll through Instagram instead. You sigh, catching his attention, and when he asks you what's wrong, you simply shake your head no.

“What are you sighing about this time?”

This is something that people don't know about Wonwoo either: he prods when it comes to people he cares about.

Granted, he does it exactly three times to see if the other party would relent by then. He does that because that's how he is, he once tells you, because he rarely opens up at the first question but eventually cracks on the third time. That, by the third question, he's already had enough time to consider whether or not he really wants to talk about it.

“Nothing important.” You try to reassure him. “Just silly stuff.”

Wonwoo looks at you pointedly, but you simply smile and turn back to your phone, which he supposes means you don't feel like bringing it up just yet.

He closes his book and puts it on the coffee table, leaning closer to you to see what you're up to.

You wonder if Wonwoo knows what his action means to your poor, poor heart. If he's aware that, as much you said you're cool despite your confession, you still have romantic attractions towards him and confessing doesn't mean you're no longer affected by anything and everything he does.

After watching you go through your phone for a bit, it is quite easy for Wonwoo to realize what might be the core of your problem.

“You're thinking about why you're single again, aren't you?”

Your fingers freeze and so does your entire body, and Wonwoo would've laughed at how surprised you look right now, but he knows you're actually bothered by this problem from time to time though he doesn't exactly understand why.

And for someone who's observative and quite sensitive when it comes to things around him, Wonwoo can be a bit dense, still.

On what kind of universe does he think this topic would be okay to talk about with someone who literally confessed to you and somewhat got rejected though not explicitly?

“I don't want to talk about it.” You whine despite the fast beating of your heart. You honestly don't think you have it in you to talk about this with Wonwoo. At least not just yet.

“Why?”

You look at him, incredulous. “You know why.”

“Because you like me?”

You shrug, not wanting to deny it.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, voice very gentle and careful.

“What?”

“I'm sorry if this sounds insensitive.” You press your lips together as he starts. At least, he has the conscience to know that. “But… what is it about being in a relationship that appeals so much to you?”

You pause before you answer, wondering what to say. “Do you want me to actually answer that?”

“If you don't mind answering.”

Wonwoo wonders if he makes you uncomfortable by asking such question. But if there's anyone he can ask about this, it can only be you. No one else would answer it in a way that he would understand. No one else would give him the sincerity that you'd give in your answer.

He feels bad knowing you like him and still asking you like this. But he supposes you're both close enough for that discussion, that he doesn't want to let your feelings get in the way of your precious friendship.

Perhaps he's selfish, but he doesn't want to be too conscious when it comes to your relationship with him despite everything.

“I guess it's just the fact that someone's always there for you.” You start, not looking at him even though his gaze is locked at you. “That there's this person who… you can tell everything to, from your secrets to what you feel like eating today. That when you want to do something, you can always run to them first before wondering if anyone else is available. That–”

“But that's already how we are?” He cuts you off.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering if it's some kind of prank even though you know he's not that kind of person.

“That's already what I do with you.” He says one more time–more firm and somewhat determined with a hint of confusion. “Why do you think you're in my place so often?”

“I… I– I don't know? You're… bored? And I happen to be free?” You stutter a little, not used to the way he's staring at you.

“I am bored.” He agrees, things suddenly crystal clear in his eyes. “But I'm bored because I don't have you around. And I want you here. That's why I asked all the time if you're available.”

You open your lips to say something–anything, but nothing comes out because your heartbeat is ringing throughout your body right up to your ears.

“You're the only person I send those posts about places I want to visit because I want to visit with you. I don't send them to anyone else. I don't even like going out all that much.”

“I… I don't understand?”

“Are we in a relationship?” He asks rather bluntly, mixing all your feelings together with one single question.

“Wonwoo, I don't think this is how you should go around it–”

“Have we been dating all this time?” He asks one more time, not even seemingly nervous about it.

He looks at you like he's expecting an answer, but how are you supposed to answer that? You've simply been happy that you get to spend time with him. You didn't think for one second that he might be into you despite all the time he asks you to accompany him somewhere and all the time you're alone in his place.

“I've been too oblivious, haven't I?” He concludes by himself, your silence doesn't deter him at all.

He reaches for your cheek, and if he notices how warm your face is, he doesn't mention it. But he caresses the apple of your cheek as he looks at you with the gentlest reflection you've ever seen in his eyes.

“I'm sorry it took me too long.” He whispers, and you bite your lip so hard to hide your smile because you don't want to be too happy before anything's decided. You're not sure what he's trying to say, your head is spinning with thoughts and your heart is beating at an erratic rhythm. “Do you mind… letting me learn a bit more?”

“About what?” You whisper back.

“Being a good boyfriend?” He smiles when you do too, feeling warmth all over his chest at how shy you seem to be. “You know I've never done this before, right? Let me take a chance with you?

You finally let yourself grin at this, no longer able to control the happiness blooming within you at whatever this might mean.

And as you lean your face more into his palm, Wonwoo thinks he's ready to take all the risks that might come together with whatever the future has in store as long as he has you by his side.