#work is making the break between volumes go by quick

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS MK1 | "REACTING TO THE VOLUME OF THEIR BULGE APPEARING IN YOUR BELLY" - 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 + 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐊

TW: size kink, afab anatomy, pet names, v!sex, hard smut, not reviewed.

BI HAN, SHAO KHAN, SHANG TSUNG, KUNG LAO, KUAI LIANG, JOHNNY CAGE, BARAKA.

Fucking him on top of you was always too intense to be true, he was a big man compared to you - and he made a point of making this dynamic very clear, he loved power, how it made him feel so powerful and relentless in compared to your small body, he could easily break you and that was fucking exciting for him. You opened your legs for him like a needy slut for his cock, while he poured a series of delicious degradations in your direction, going with two fingers up your wet and needy hole, while his other thick hand came against your face, forcing you to watch his fingers aggressively work on you, saccharistically placing the blame on you for having such a tight pussy - he loved how tight you were, but he also loved seeing you blush with embarrassment.

"-Oh come on angel... Don't be shy..." He moaned, smiling roguishly, while placing his dick on top of your pussy, making a comparison to your entrance, his hard dick reached your navel easily. He made a quick movement, without any warning, making you jump and arch your sides in a loud moan that echoed through the walls, he placed his hands on your hips, running his thumbs over your skin, soon seeing the bulge that formed on your skin, he could see his own cock taking you, it was too much for him, a primitive moan, perhaps even animalistic, left his lips, as he accelerated with all his might, moaning with every movement he could see under your skin, knowing that he was filling you completely, he is totally arrogant about it, taking one of your hands and taking you to the place.

"-Feel it baby... This is the power I have over you, only I can fuck you like this, you hear? Only I can fill you like this." he moaned hoarsely, smiling as he sped up even more, he was going crazy with every movement seen outside of your womb, he loved it, he loved being so strong compared to you.

"-You're going to cum, right? After all, you love a huge cock inside your little pussy." He placed his hand on your waist again, marking with his thumb where his dick went, while he leaned in and whispered in your ear between screams of pleasure. "-I'm going to fill your fucking uterus with my semen, and breed in that beautiful pussy, right?"

LIU KANG ,RAIDEN , TOMAS VRBADA, KENSHI, ZEEFFERO, QUAN CHI, HAVIK, REIKO, SYZOTH.

Fucking him while you sit on his dick, with his body sitting on the messy bed - sex before bed, with all the passion and with the intention of killing the longing he felt for you during the day, he knew it was a: A big, strong man, his muscles overcame the clothes he wore - he loved holding you in his arms, suspending you around, while he fucked you in every corner of the house.

He would kiss you passionately, while your hands went behind the back of his head, while his eyes slowly opened, seeing his hard cock, close to your pussy, the comparison was huge, he was always afraid of breaking you, often he just he would let you rub yourself against his thigh or over his dick, without any penetration or even inserting just the tip of his shaft, but when you asked for more he would back away, even if you begged for more, he was a patient man.

But that patience ended a while ago, and he needed that. He moaned more, as he watched you slowly sit on his cock, warming him with your heat, the sound of your wetness, he grinds his teeth as he felt the paradise of your walls squeeze him, he would try to ask you if you were okay, but soon he would see the bulge in your belly, making him tense with desire and moan loudly as he threw his head back.

"-Fuck dear, look at this... Mmm- Ah I can't control myself Mmm-" he then made a quick movement with his hips, thrusting everything inside you, stretching you wide open, as he always wanted. His strong, veiny hands met your hips, squeezing the soft flesh, while his eyes focused on the length that was exposed under your belly, making him grunt and sputter, passing his fingers with each thrust of your cunt. on him, drooling the thick length inside you - he was addicted, the vision of filling you up completely, and seeing you feeling pleasure with him slamming the fat head of his dick repeatedly into your sweet spot, made the big guy cum without warning someone, filling you with cum, with hard thrusts and even bordering on pain with so much pleasure, like a thin line of desire.

"-Ah- fuck, I'm going to fill you up... C-cuming-" he screamed as he emptied his thick and viscous contents into you, the sensation was overwhelming, leaving you with even more volume in the uterus, even with him slowly leaving you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[futurewdclandonorris]

Lipstick Stamps | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

“Ready soon, love?” Lando peeked his head in your shared bedroom.

You glanced up from your vanity table and smiled at him. “Almost there, I just need a few more minutes. Could you help me zip up my dress, though?”

You turned around, the ocean blue fabric flowing against your skin as Lando made his way towards you. His strong hands gently pulled the zipper up, the sound echoing through the room.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You look stunning, as always.” and kissed the back of your neck.

You blushed at his words and turned to face him. “Thank you. I just need to apply my lipstick and then we can get going.”

Lando watched in awe as you carefully applied the ruby red lipstick, a color that went along with your dress perfectly. His heart swelled with pride, knowing he was the luckiest man alive to have you by his side. As you capped the lipstick and set it down, you caught his soft gaze in the mirror that made your heart flutter.

“Shall we?” Lando offered his arm to you with a charming smile.

“Wait, I need to blot the excess off first,”

“Want me to get you a tissue?” he asked, his hand already reaching for the box.

“No, come here,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. Lando’s eyes slightly widened in surprise when you leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his right cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of red. He stilled for a moment, his heart pounding as he savored the sweet touch of your lips on his skin.

You pulled back, looked into his eyes and leaned back in to do the same to his left cheek. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling a rush of love for you surge through his veins. But you weren’t done yet. You planted a kiss on his temple, making your way to his forehead and stamping it all over with quick little kisses, each one a promise of love and affection.

Your lips descended to the right side of his face and peppered all over, until there was no spot left unkissed. Lando burst into giggles, his face growing even more pink than your blush, and squirmed between your hands, making it a bit hard to continue your rain of kisses on him.

But you persisted, marking his chin, his jaw, and finally finished with a boop on his nose, your laughter mingling with his until you both were breathless from the joy of the moment. You let go of his face and took a step back to admire your work and the beautiful man standing before you covered in your lipstick kisses, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with adoration.

Lando couldn't help but break into a wide grin, his heart bursting with love for you. He was completely captivated by your playful affection and the way you showered him with kisses, each one a testament to the deep connection you shared.

"There,” you said, snaking your arms around his neck, satisfied. “Now we can go.”

“You forgot the most important one,” before you could react, he wrapped his arms around your waist and captured your lips in a savoring kiss that spoke volumes. You melted into each other’s embrace, forgetting about the world and everything else until only the two of you existed.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your hearts beating as one. Lando rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips. “Now we can go,” he whispered, his voice filled with warmth. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning into his touch. “Now, let’s not keep our dinner reservation waiting.”

Hand in hand, you both made your way out of the bedroom and into the night, where the stars above seemed to twinkle just a little bit brighter as if they were celebrating the love that radiated between you and Lando.

[izvmimi]

cw: izuku has a bit of an embarrassing secret. minors dni. smut.

You feel guilty laughing a bit too loudly, wondering between booth confessions on the reality tv show you’re watching if the crunch of your chips or your laughter is disturbing your boyfriend’s concentration, but Izuku insists that staying connected, your legs dangling over his knee on the couch as you lay and he sits up hunched over a bright laptop screen is necessary. Something, something about body doubling helping him concentrate, particularly when it’s you.

To be fair, he’s sighing so often that perhaps he’s really the one disturbing you, but you drop your bag of snacks on the coffee table then reach over to rub his knee with your clean hand. 

“How far did you get?” you ask.

He grimaces.

“I’m stuck with this particular paragraph,” he starts, and you’re already reaching for the remote to turn off the TV and help with his work document, but he grips your thigh gently and shakes to reassure you.

“Let me just think through it some more, I’ll ask you for help in a bit,” Izuku insists, smiling at you. His smile is wide and genuine when he looks at you, but once he turns back to the computer, the frustration is back, eyebrows furrowed as he starts to bite on his thumbnail. You’re less than enthused, but you decide to let him hear himself think, lowering the volume on your television just slightly as you go back to your show. 

A few more moments pass as he types, then pauses. Finally, he lets out a groan, and rubs his face and you pause your show but before you can ask him any questions he’s gotten up, telling you he needs a quick break. It’s sudden so you don’t go and follow him assuming he’ll be back.

You assumed he meant the bathroom when you turned your show back on and raised the volume slightly, and if you hadn’t made that assumption you’d probably have noticed that the wrong door closed, the one to the bedroom on the left and not the bathroom on the right. 

Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen, and suddenly concern sets in. Insane as you might be, you’re familiar enough with Izuku’s bathroom habits to know that fifteen minutes is a little too long, and he’s either still muttering up a storm on the toilet bowl or constipated.

You make your way down the corridor to see that the bathroom is empty but the bedroom is closed shut. There’s a noise you can’t yet identify coming through the other side as you peek your way in, but just as you notice the bright white light coming from his phone, you hear him let out a sudden, strangled moan and through his head back, and quickly you flip on the light before he gasps, and scrambles up to a sitting position, dick still hard and poorly covered by his crossed legs. The hand he uses to cover himself is dripping and you stand there, eyes completely wide as you take in the scene before you.

“... Um?” you start, and he blushes a deep red, strawberry like with the dotted freckles on his unscarred cheek.

“Listen, I can explain!”

You blink, but walk over to him, and tilt your head as you climb onto the bed next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and look at the mess now on your bed sheets.

“Go ahead, I’m listening.”

You’re in no way upset, simply… curious.

Izuku swallows thickly, then laughs. 

“It helps me concentrate.”

You raise your eyebrow, but it’s not an unreasonable thing he’s suggesting. Looking over at his phone placed aside him, you realize he’s looking at one of your pictures, not even one of the sexier ones you’ve taken to spice up one of his days on patrol, but a candid of you at the cafe down the street for brunch last week.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“So masturbating to a picture of me having pancakes helps you concentrate,” you repeat slowly, and he reddens even deeper. “To be honest, it’s so on the nose, I’m going to have to check your browser history because no way you love me this much,” you say laughing a bit louder.

“Stop making fun of me,” he whines, but you only laugh harder, then lean into him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you wanted to have sex, I would have stopped my show, by the way,” you insist. One of your hands finds its way up his shirt, ignoring just the few drops of sticky semen that have made their way onto his lower belly and trailing up. His flush is different now, extending further down his body, and he looks at you for a moment, contemplating before pressing his hand over yours.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked comfortable.”

You snort.

“When would I pass on a good fuck?”

He pulls his lower lip behind his teeth gently as you move back down his chest, gliding all the way to the base of his cock. He shudders and closes his eyes.

“I don’t want to use you for that purpose.. It just feels disingenuous.”

Your head lowers and the kitten lick you offer on his still sticky tip practically makes his cock jump. You giggle, then look back up at him.

“You’re allowed to use me however you want,” you remind him. Your fingers close around him more, sliding up and down the shaft once before letting your tongue run up your palm. 

Clearly you’re messing with him at this point. 

“___,” he whispers your name, and you can tell he’s cooked. You bat your eyelashes gently.

“It was meant to be quick…” he adds, but he’s losing ground more and more every second, and you’re about to bob your head down again. “I… I want to make sure that when we’re having sex, I can take my time with you instead of worrying about this damn dead- oh.”

You’ve taken him down to the base, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone, and his hand finds its way to cradle the back of your head. Sucking up and down gently and slow, you let your tongue twirl around the head again before you pull back, and grin at him.

“We can still be quick...” you offer. 

From the look on his face, any circulation to his brain that could be used for writing is now down to that thick, strong cock just inches from your face. His mouth practically waters as he looks at you, in a stupor.

You barely see him move before he’s on top of you, and you gasp before you laugh.

“You’re right, this is a far better option.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Let’s see how fast you can make me cum and clear both of our heads.”

[rkvriki]

PAIRING ! husband!sunghoon x house wife!reader SYNOPSIS ! some domestic moments of your married life with sunghoon.

WARNINGS ! SMUT MDNI!! reader likes to bicker and scold hoonie but its bc they act like a married couple, very brief handjob, hints of shower sex, oral (f. receiving), there's a small argument moments but its like old married couple fighting, nipple sucking lmao, there's no actual sex sorry!! ALSO SORRY IF ITS BAD I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING

wc: 3.7K

a/n: happy early valentine's to my baby @pshaven i love you wifey mwah !

“Sunghoon, seriously, I need to leave.” you said with a huff as you tried to break free from your husband’s embrace. “Just a little bit more.” he replied, words muffled as his face was hidden in your neck. “Hoon- You know I have brunch with your mom” you reminded him “And besides that, if I stay here I won’t get out anytime soon.” you felt him smirk in your neck at your words, making you roll your eyes at him. His hands started moving inside your shirt, caressing the skin there. “Hoon! Please, let me go. I need to shower” you insisted trying to push him off. It wasn’t even 11 in the morning and he was already managing to make you annoyed. With a deep sigh he rolled onto the side, letting you go.

You walked towards the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing yourself. You got in, feeling the warm water on your feet. You let yourself immerse in the warm feeling before getting to your shower routine, letting your muscles relax for a bit. There were very few moments where you could fully relax and take a break from the world. Even though you didn’t actually work and were just a housewife you had a lot to do around the house and you knew people didn’t really take you seriously when you said you felt tired or like you needed a vacation but maybe jealousy speaks louder volumes. It wasn’t your fault your husband chose to give you this lifestyle and the opportunity to not work.

You were in the middle of scrubbing your hair when you heard the shower door open, making you open your eyes to see Sunghoon in all his naked glory, standing there and staring at you with a smirk. “Seriously, Sunghoon?” you said closing your eyes again and returning to washing your hair. “You really aren’t giving up, huh?” You turned your back to him as you rinsed the shampoo off. He didn’t say anything but you felt his hands circle your waist as he pressed himself (and his boner) on your backside. 

“Oh my God! Sunghoon, I seriously can’t be late for your mom!” you said, hands still moving on your hair. “I promise I’ll be quick, yeah?” he said as his hands moved upwards to massage your boobs, making you bite your lip and contain any sounds that tried to come out. “Yeah, no, Hoon. Sorry.” you replied turning around, now facing him. The look he was giving you usually would be enough to have you on your knees but today you swore to yourself you would be on time to meet with his mother. 

“Move! I need my body wash.” you tried to sound unbothered, but the flicker of your eyes between his eyes and his cock showed him you weren’t so unaffected. He chuckled at your behaviour, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close to connect your lips with his. Your eyes instantly fluttered close as you felt his plush lips move against yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you, his cock rubbing against your stomach. One of his hands made its way to your cheeks, angling your face to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip asking for permission, making you moan as you felt his tongue rub against yours.

Your hand moved from his shoulder down his torso until it reached his already hard cock. You grabbed the base, moving your hand up until it reached the tip, making Sunghoon moan as he pulled away from the kiss. “Acting so hard to get for what, mnh?” he said smirking against your lips. Your hand squeezed his dick, making him hiss at the feeling. “Yeah yeah, whatever, make it quick.” you said turning around, bending over slightly for him. “I need to leave before 11:30.” Sunghoon laughed at your antics. “Wow, so romantic, baby.”

It was around 7 in the afternoon when you started making dinner. Sunghoon still hadn’t come from work and you knew he was gonna be in the office until a little later since he had texted you about an important business meeting or whatever. You decided to make his favourite dish since it has been a while since you’ve made it and you wanted to reward him for working so hard this past month.

Sunghoon’s company has been having a lot of great deals coming up and while that was good it also meant he spent longer in his office. You were worried that he was overworking himself, since you knew how he gets when there’s important stuff going on in the company. Still, Sunhoon always made sure to give you his attention whenever he could, always answering your texts and calling you in his breaks and obviously, when he got home he always gave you more than just his attention so you always try to give him rewards with your domesticity you knew he craved after long days.

The smell of homemade food filled Sunghoon’s senses as soon as he got home. A smile making its way to his lips when he caught a glimpse of you cooking, still not noticing him as your back was turned to him and you were so immersed in preparing the meal. He walked towards the kitchen, being careful not to scare you. The warm light from the top of the stove made the whole scenery look so domestic and Sunghoon wished he could take a picture of you at that moment. You must have felt his presence as you turned to look at him, already smiling up at him. He leaned down to kiss you, a happy sigh leaving his lips when he did so. When you pulled back you noticed how tired and droopy his eyes looked, making you frown a little bit.

“Everything ok, baby?” he asked, hands reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah, Hoonie. You just look so tired.” you answered as your lips pouted slightly. He let out a deep sigh but smiled at you nonetheless. “Yeah, but it’s nothing being with my sexy wife can’t fix.” he said giving you a wide grin, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. “Shut up, dork.” you replied, turning back to the pot to get back to cooking.

A comfortable silence sat in the air and it was just you cooking and Sunghoon leaning back on the counter as he observed you carefully, unconsciously smiling to himself. “I can feel you staring at me, dude.” you told you as you kept on with the cooking. “And you had to ruin the moment.” he said rolling his eyes “And so what? Can’t I look at my beautiful wife?” he said as he moved to hold your waist from behind. “Whatever, Hoonie. Let me cook.” you said wanting your space to cook. “I’m letting you!” he said as his face moved to your neck to start peppering kisses on the area. “Sunhoon, I’m serious!” you warned but still rolled your head slightly to the side to give him more access to your neck, making him smile as he bit on the skin softly.

“If the food burns you’re paying for take-out!” you said in a warning tone but Sunghoon knew you were enjoying the attention he was giving you. “You should take a break baby.” he said grabbing you to turn around. “Sunghoon, let me fin-” you were cut off by your own squeal as he pulled you to sit on the counter. He reached to turn the stove off so the food wouldn’t actually burn and you were left staring at him dumbfounded. “Sunghoon, the food-” he cut you off by giving you a peck on the lips. “Relax, baby.” He said getting on his knees in front of you, your eyes following his every move. “Just need to taste one thing right now.” his hands reached for the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I?” he asked looking at you with his puppy eyes, making you nod eagerly at him. He pulled your pants down along with your underwear, not wasting any second to bury his face in your warm cunt.

When things weren’t so busy in the company Sunghoon would take some days to work from home. Normally, for any wife who has a busy husband, this would sound like heaven, but not to you. At least not today. Unfortunately for Sunghoon (and for you), it was cleaning day, which meant you were gonna go through all the rooms including his home office and make some noise with the vacuum cleaner which also meant it was gonna bother Sunghoon during his online meetings or distract him from work overall.

You were in the middle of vacuuming the hall which had access to his office when his door burst open, making you look at him, still vacuuming. His face sported a deep annoyed frown, making you raise a brow at him. “May I help you?” you said turning the electronic off. “Actually, yes.” he said in a very annoyed tone. “Could you not vacuum when I’m working?” you looked at him shocked that he was asking such question. “Um, no I actually can’t!” you answered starting to get just as annoyed as he was. “Y/n, I’m literally working right now and I can’t focus at all.” he said, complaining as if you weren’t working as well. “Oh! And what am I doing? Playing house? Jeez, Sunghoon, you can be quite the asshole sometimes.” you rolled your eyes at him and walked off to the living room, leaving him standing there as he watched you disappear in the corner.

Sunghoon was back in his office and it had been some good thirty minutes since your small argument and even though he was annoyed at the time he knew it wasn’t your fault and you were just doing your work. He was starting to feel bad and as much as he wanted to keep working, the heavy feeling in his chest kept reminding him to go apologise. Sighing, he rolled his chair back and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He got up and left the office quietly, looking for you in the living room.

When he reached the room he saw you sitting on the couch as you surfed through the different TV channels, rolling his eyes and biting back a scoff when he saw you stopping on the stupid reality show you loved so much. He walked to the couch, making you look at him just for a very quick second before getting your attention back on the show. He sat next to you, thighs touching yours. His hand landed on your legs, rubbing it up and down in a comforting manner. Your eyes flickered from his face to the TV, waiting for him to say something.

 “Baby…” he started “What?” you said, eyes not moving from the big screen in front of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you were working just as much as me. I’m sorry, baby.” he said, moving closer to you. “You were a little mean, not gonna lie, Sunghoon.” You said playing with a loose string in your old shirt you usually wore to clean the house. “I know I was, baby. This client was annoying me, and even though this isn’t an excuse I want you to know I didn’t mean to let it out on you.” he said as he brushed hairs that came out of your bun away from your face. “It’s ok. I forgive you, Hoonie.” you smiled up at him, curling yourself on him. His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, lingering there for a while. “Stay here for a little bit?” you asked, looking up at him. “Of course, baby.”

You swore you loved Sunghoon very dearly and if there was a bad thing about marrying him it would be your inability to sleep properly without him beside you. While, yes, that was true it was also a curse because of Sunghoon’s little sleeping problem. Sunghoon snored very loudly when he was really tired which consequently pulled you out of your sweet sleep. You tried all you could think of. You covered your head with a spare pillow, you covered your ears with your hands, you elbowed him in the ribs but he wouldn’t even budge.

Annoyed you sat up on the bed and shook his arm, making him let out a hum and look at you. “Turn to the other side, you’re snoring.” you told him with furrowed brows. He let out mumbled words you couldn’t even understand, probably annoyed you interrupted his sleep but still turned around, his back now facing you. Sighing, you laid back on the bed, your head hitting the fresh silky pillow. 

You felt bad for waking him up just to stop him from snoring since you knew he was probably tired from a long day at work but your sleep was also important! Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt sleep take over your body again. Just as you were about to fall asleep again a loud snore followed by a sigh made your eyes open wide.

Your hands gripped the sheets as you let out an annoyed sigh. “For fuck’s sake.” You whisper-yelled as you sat on the bed, feet blindly looking for your slippers. You grabbed your pillow and walked towards the living room to try and get some quiet sleep. Your feet dragged on the floor as you tiredly made your way to the couch. You threw your pillow on the couch and grabbed the blanket that you always threw on the armrest. You laid back down, sighing happily when you felt instantly take over you.

Sunghoon looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing it was still a little past six. He sighed softly as he turned to your side of the bed but felt nothing but the cold of your sheets. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head when he saw you weren’t lying beside him. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and got up to go look for you. First, he looked in your in-suite bathroom but you weren’t there. He walked barefoot through the halls until he reached the living room. There he saw you laying, curled in the white fluffy blanket you usually shared on movie nights.

Sunghoon smiled softly as he walked towards your sleeping figure. He shook your arm slightly, making you shake a little bit as you woke up. “Why aren’t you in bed, baby?” he asked when you were finally looking properly at him. “Maybe because someone was snoring like an ogre and I couldn’t sleep.” you answered in a groggy voice, making him chuckle at your response. 

“What time is it?” you asked laying your head back on the pillow. “Just a little past six.” he answered “Come back to bed, yeah?” you groaned feeling comfy and warm on your couch. “Carry me?” you asked, smiling and extending your arms towards him. He smiled and shook his head but still crouched to grab you and carry you to bed, kissing your head in the process as you both made your way to your shared room.

The weekend had finally arrived and you and Sunghoon had been waiting for a day like this since forever. You both woke up late and had homemade brunch and were now lying on your shared bed watching movies and just talking with each other. You were cuddled on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around you as you both seemed to be immersed in a random romcom playing on the screen in front of you. Both of you had been quiet for a while, the only thing heard was the movie playing. 

You were starting to get bored of the same rom-com plot playing over and over in each movie. You rolled your head back against Sunghoon’s shoulder and just stared at him, admiring his perfect features. He was so into the movie he probably didn’t even notice you staring. It was in moments like this that you wondered how could have you bagged a husband and man like him. Your eyes moved from his plump lips to his perfect straight nose that you loved to sit on so much.

You were getting needy for his attention so you started to leave love bites on his neck, making him look at you with a surprised look. You smiled up at him, making him mirror your expression as you kissed the spots you previously bit, soothing the red marks. “‘M bored, Hoonie.” you whined as you pressed your face in his chest. “You want to change the movie?” he asked, grabbing the controller. “No!” you said sitting up “I’m bored.” you said again but emphasizing the bored with a suggestive tone. His eyes widened in realization but his expression quickly changed to a playful one.

Sunghoon said nothing as he laid you against the many pillows displayed on your bed, making you let out a squeal. “And what does Miss wanna do, mnh?” he asked, biting his lip as his hands slipped inside your shirt, caressing your stomach. “I don’t know, Hoonie…” you said giggling as you spread your legs further so he could fit in between them. “Then I don’t think there’s anything I can do, baby.” He said sitting on his knees, making you whine at him. “Hoon, please!” you begged not really sure for what. “Tell me, baby. What do you want, mnh?” he said hovering over you again. “Just do anything! Please!” You said grabbing him by his nape. 

He pulled your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. The sight was enough to make him feel himself become hard in his sweats. He took one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand played with the other. You moaned at the delicious feeling, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you squirmed against the bed. “Hoon…” you moaned when you felt him graze his teeth on your sensitive nub. He pulled away to suck on the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other, a string of his spit falling on the valley of your breasts. 

“Please, Hoonie, need more!” you whined softly, grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach. Sunghoon pulled away from your breasts to look at you. Cheeks blushed, eyes shiny and lips parted. Even though you have been married for almost three years now, you never failed to impress him with your beauty. He smiled at you, leaning down to peck your lips multiple times as he giggled like a fool in love (exactly what he was). You felt your cheeks warm up at his antics, giggling at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Whatever my baby wants.” he said moving south.

Thankfully you hadn’t worn any pants underneath your shirt so he had easier access to your panties. He buried his nose in your clothed cunt, giving it a lick through your panties, making you moan and grind against his face. “H-hoon!” you moaned quietly. His hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards as he reached for the hem of your underwear. “Can I, angel?” he asked for your consent, making you nod at him. He pulled your panties off of you, revealing your glistening cunt to him. He let out a shaky sigh at the sight of your bare cunt on display wet just for him. 

He used his thumbs to spread your folds, revealing you fully to him and lowered himself on you, moaning when your sweet juices hit his taste buds. His tongue licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, making you let out a breathy moan as you grinded against his face, smothering him in your essence. “Hoon, fuck!” you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue flickering your clit. “Shit! So good. Hoon!” He moaned in satisfaction, grinding against the mattress, trying to get some relief of his own. His tongue moved to your hole, slurping on your wetness. 

Sunghoon felt like he was ascending to heaven as he inserted his tongue in your hole, feeling more of you. You kept moaning and grinding on him, fingers pulling him closer to your cunt. Slurping sounds along with your moans and whines were all that was heard in the quiet room as he immersed himself in your pussy. His tongue alternated from sucking to flicking on your clit when he felt your hole clench repeatedly, meaning you were about to cum. “Hoon! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned out loud. He could also feel himself come close to his own release as he kept grinding himself against your sheets.

His hands moved from your folds to embrace your thighs to pull himself even closer to your cunt. His tongue started moving faster on your now sensitive nub. “Shit, Hoon! S-So close!” you screamed as you felt your body twitch. He seemed to suck even harder on your clit, motivated to bring you your sweet release. With a couple more flicks of his tongue, you felt the oxygen being knocked out of your lungs as your body stilled and your vision turned white. “F-Fuck, Hoon!” You moaned as you came on his tongue, hole clenching uncontrollably as his tongue now moved to your hole to slurp at the juices that were starting to drip out of you.

It also didn’t take him long to cum as he felt your hole clench around his tongue, his body shaking as he felt his sticky release stain his underwear. With a final suck, he pulled away from your pussy to not overstimulate you. You lay there, panting as you came down from your high. His face was covered in your slick and a smile adorned his lips, making you giggle at the way he looked like a lovesick puppy. “Thank you, Hoonie.” you said, pulling him down to peck his lips. “Everything for my princess.” he replied as he kissed you again before getting up to prepare you a bath.

[lxndonorris]

home race - Oscar Piastri

Y/N x Oscar Piastri Theme: Smut (you've been warned) you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x word count: 3250+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :) EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.

You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.

Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.

The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.

Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.

You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.

When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.

After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.

The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.

The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans. 

Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.

"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.

You smile, your eyes filling with tears.

"Surprise!"

Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.

At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.

"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."

"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."

Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.

"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."

You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart. 

When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.

"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.

You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."

As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar. 

Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.

"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."

The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.

Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."

Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. 

As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.

Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."

Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.

As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.

With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.

You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.

Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss. 

This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.

As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.

With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.

You decide to take things a step further. 

"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders. 

Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.

His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.

Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.

You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.

With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."

One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.

You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.

Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress. 

Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.

Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.

The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips. 

Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully. 

You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.

His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.

Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.

Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.

Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.

Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.

"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."

Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.

His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."

He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.

Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.

Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.

As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.

The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.

Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.

Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.

Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.

The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.

He is the first to take the lead again.

With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.

Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. 

The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.

Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.

Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.

"Fuck."

You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.

With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.

The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.

As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.

With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.

Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.

You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.

Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.

"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.

"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.

After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection. 

With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.

As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."

Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.

As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away. 

Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.

He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.

You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.

"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."

Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.

With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere. 

You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."

[yvesette]

── ☆ 𓂃 ⁺🎤 . sex w/ MARK LEE in the studio !!

PAIRING: MARK LEE x f!reader - after practice, you check in on your boyfriend’s recording session only to grow needier at the sight of him.

- [genre: smut , idol!au, lwk softdom!mark, lots of praising]

[quick note !!:] i saw the idea of mark recording your moans in the studio one time and i cannot remember who the life of me said something abt it but this is my take on it

— ⊹₊ ⋆

under the dim, intimate glow of the recording studio's ambient lights, mark lee, sits hunched over the soundboard while you’re on the couch, listening to the playback of his latest track. the faint hum of the equipment is the only noise cutting through the quiet tension in the air.

mark, the ever-professional, taps his fingers rhythmically on the desk, lost in the sound. you, on the other hand — still dressed in your clothes from dance practice, can't help but steal glances at him. his focused expression, the way his eyes narrow slightly when he listens intently, the way his hands were moving…you were enamored with your boyfriend.

the track fades out, and he turns to you with that boyish smile that always makes you shy. "what do you think? sounds good, right?"

you nod, your throat suddenly dry. "yeah, it does. you did great, as always."

you couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gnawed at your insides as your boyfriend’s attention was consumed by the intricate details of the track. mark was clad in nothing but a basic hoodie and a pair of sweatpants and his hair was tousled in a way that made him look effortlessly pretty.

there was something about him right now that was turning you on.

it might have been the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his hoodie, maybe even the way his hair fell into his eyes as he leaned over the console and he’d absentmindedly run his hand through it in frustration.

you felt yourself staring and sensed an opportunity for a much-needed break for mark.

you approach the boy, who was deeply engrossed in his work, and sigh — wrapping your arms around him from behind. you rest your head against his shoulder as a silent plea for a break and when your only response is his hand caressing yours for a quick moment before going back to work, you groan.

“markkkk,” you whine, whispering into his ear. he replies with a hum, and you sigh, resorting to your next plan.

you begin to trail kisses down mark’s neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last — hoping to distract him from his work. he shifts slightly, clearly enjoying the sensation but still absorbed in his task.

"mark," you murmur between kisses, your voice low and suggestive, “i’ve had schedules all day, i need you right now.”

mark pauses looking up from his work for a moment, “what do you mean?”

you let go of your grip of him from behind and move to where he’s facing. with a deliberate motion, you swing your leg over his lap, settling yourself on top of him — blocking the monitor and playing with his hair. mark’s brow furrows until you lean in closer, your lips brushing against mark’s as you speak — your voice filled with longing. “i mean i need you…mark….”

mark’s eyes widen in realization, “oh…” he feels your warmth against him and finally understands. his hands immediately find your hips, his grip firm but gentle.

the studio door is locked, and the soundproof walls offer a rare bubble of privacy in your idol lives - where

your lips meet in a soft, exploratory kiss. between the two of you, there’s a silent conversation of desire and longing that speaks volumes without a single word. the tenderness is lost and the monomer becomes more intense. it’s a dance you've done many times before, yet each kiss gives way to an insatiable hunger. mark’s body relaxes into you and your hands roam freely, tracing the curves of each other's bodies with a fervent urgency, as if trying to map every inch of skin.

you can't help but begin to trail soft, teasing kisses down your boyfriend’s neck, mindful of the pressure of your lips. you want nothing more than to leave marks, to claim him as yours and him the same to you but you’re far too aware of the public’s probable reaction to visible bruises.

witha teasing smile, you reach for the hem of mark’s shirt, parting your lips from his collarbone to lift it over his head — revealing his physique beneath. you still got shy and almost giddy at the sight of your boyfriend’s bare chest and you felt the heat rising in his cheeks, a telltale sign of his growing flustered state. you feel him pressed against you, confined below and you roll your body into him, his hands grip tightly at your waist at the movement and he groans. your hand moves from stroking his hair and slips lower, tracing a path down his abdomen, you can feel the tension in his muscles coil tighter, his breath catching in his throat at the sensation. you glance up to meet his eyes, searching for any sign of his reaction and he looks at you with tired but desirable eyes.

your hand continues its descent, slipping lower and lower until you’re under his boxers and taking him in your palm. mark can't help but revel in the power you hold over him, in the way your touch leaves him breathless and wanting. he stares at you as you grasp him and he lets out a curse — eyes shutting tight for a quick moment and jaw clutching. you murmur to mark, urging him to relax and he yields to your gentle touch — helping you break his sweatpants and you kneel bellow the chair between his legs.

one hand of his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a gesture that's as comforting as it is thrilling. you can feel the callouses on his fingertips, a testament to his dedication.

you lock eyes with mark, and as you lean in closer, your breath warm against his skin, it sends a shiver down his spine as anticipation courses through you both.

“god, you're so pretty," mark sighs, holding up your hair in a makeshift ponytail. his voice is thick with lust as he looks down at you and you think to yourself how fucking attractive this man is.

you kitten lick his tip while holding the base of him and his breath catches in his throat, a low groan escaping his lips as you explore him with your tongue — sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

you take mark into your mouth, savoring the taste of him as you work your way up and down. you revel in the sounds of his pleasure, the way his breath hitches and his fingers clench in your hair and he mutters curses under his breath. he continues to watch you work, eyes clenching shut occasionally his hips twitching upwards deeper down your throat. “‘feels so good,” you whimper at his words, “fuck baby stop i’m not gonna be able to last much—,” his voice gets caught in his throat and you come off of him with a lewd pop.

you take a moment to breathe to yourself before, with heated urgency, mark helps you up and guides you backwards to the sofa against the wall behind you with his lips finding yours and his hands finding your waist. you stumble back, lost in the intoxicating heat of his touch, until your legs brush against the edge of the couch, and he gently lowers you down onto the soft cushions.

mark’s lips brush against your ear, his voice a soft murmur as he whispers sweet nothings, his words sending shivers of pleasure down your spine, “so fucking perfect, my perfect girl…” you feel yourself grind against his thigh at those words and with gentle hands, he slowly lifts your tank top over your head, revealing the bare expanse of your skin beneath.

mark bites his lip and cocks his head to the side, “i could look at you forever, jesus…”his mouth finds purchase on your skin, kissing along your collarbones while you thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to your tits. he suckles gently on your nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. one hand massages the other and you can't help but release a soft, breathy moan, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily.

mark’s lips glide down your stomach and he moves to settle between your legs, each kiss leaving you gasping for more. his hands slide down your hips, deftly removing your sweatpants and tossing them carelessly to the floor.

with a hungry gaze, he spreads your thighs carefully, his touch making your hips convulse forward looking for any sort of friction. mark’s eyes linger on your flushed face, a small smile playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of your desperate arousal. his fingertips trace the edge of your underwear, feeling the dampness seeping through the fabric and earning a whimper from your lips. you loved when he took his time with you and he loved it even more ryan you could imagine.

"damn," he breathes out, his voice low and breathy, "you're already so wet for me, baby." his words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal flooding through you. but beneath it all, there's a longing for more of his touch.

he slowly peels your panties away from your skin and lifts your leg to throw the fabric to the floor. without wasting a second, he eagerly buries his face between your thighs, his lips and tongue delving deep, tasting your essence with every fervent lick.moans escape your lips as you watch his fervor increase. mark pauses briefly to look up at you, his eyes glazed with desire, “’tastes so good…” he kisses your clit, “‘could stay here all day just tasting you.” his words send a thrill through you, the intensity of his desire mirroring your own. with each stroke of his tongue and each groan into your center, you grip his hair tighter - soliciting a low moan from him into you that makes you lose yourself as the pressure breaks and your vision grows fuzzy.

mark allows you to come down from your orgasm, his lips brushing against your skin in soothing caresses. when you open your eyes, he’s moving up and gazing at you with adoration. he leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

your lips part, “fuck- do you have a condom?”

the boy rolls his eyes at you and sits up to grab his wallet from his discarded pants, “is that even a question…?” he digs the wrapper out and holds it up for you to see and you smile.

with a sly grin, mark reaches for the condom, his movements deliberate and confident as he rolls it onto his length and hovers back over you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, gripping his back and knowing you’re bound to leave nail scratches that will get his friends to tease your boyfriend relentlessly. he positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip of his hardness, tracing circles against your slick folds and you throw your head back with a moan.

“please,” you whimper, voice filled with desperation, “i need you mark please…”

without a word, mark thrusts into you, eliciting a gasp of surprise and pleasure from your lips. a searing heat washes over you, igniting every nerve ending in your body as he bottoms out inside of you, your boyfriend moans a breathy exhale. his face grows closer to yours and you swallow each others moans as he thrusts in and out of you quickening his pace with every thrust.

“so fucking tight…” he breathes into you.

with a breathless pause in your kisses, you gaze into mark’s eyes, a thought crossing your mind, “please,” you almost whisper, “let me ride you.”

mark’s thrusts stop and he pulls out as his eyes widen at your request but he’s in no position to deny you and your words make him bite at his cheek to contain a low moan, “shit — oh my god please.”

with a shared look of anticipation, you and mark adjust your positions. he sits up and gently props you onto his lap, his hands tenderly guiding your hips as you slide down onto his length. as you envelop him completely, a low groan escapes his lips, his head falling back in ecstasy at the sight of you taking him in, muttering how “‘fucking tight” you are. mark’s arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, pulling you close to him as you straddle him. with each movement, his hold on you grows firmer, and his lips chase yours. you lose yourselves in the rhythm of your action with your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his pulling you impossibly close to him.

the sound of your moans mixes with the rhythmic beat of the music still playing in the background as you shout his name continuously.

his mouth moves right against your ear, talking you though it by muttering sweet nothings paired with curses — how beautiful you are, how amazing you feel, and fuck- how lucky he is that you’re his.

you swallow a breathe, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.

"i’m gonna come," you moan, your voice filled with need as mark starts thrusting his own hips up into yours. you hit your breaking point and lose yourself in the throws of your peak, leaning your head down against mark’s shoulder and trying your best to continue the rhythm you’d made so he could finish but feeling you clench around him, mark’s own release followed swiftly. a reactive moan escaped his lips as he found release after you.

the two of you come to your senses, and with a tender smile, mark gently lifts you off of him, his touch lingering. as he sets you down beside him on the sofa, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek and praises you, saying how well you did.

he reaches for the condom, disposing of it carefully before returning to your side

the world outside the studio ceases to exist, leaving just the two of you in this stolen moment. the thrill of secrecy, the fear of discovery, only heightens the intensity of your embrace.

the room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside the window. make held you close, his hands gently tracing patterns on your back, grounding you in the afterglow of your shared intimacy.

“stay right here okay?” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before slipping out from under you. he grabs a handful of tissues from the side-table and helps you clean up, wiping the remnants of your shared passion away.

you and mark slip back into your clothes and you nestle into his chest. you’re exhausted from both dancing and your activities now with mark and feel yourself grower more sleepy by the second.

after a few moments of blissful silence, mark’s eyes suddenly widened in realization. he lifts his head slightly, a look of amused panic crossing his face, “dude, I think it was recording."

you blinked, momentarily confused, “what?”

he jolts up from the couch and practically runs to the monitor at his desk.

“shit- the mic… i think i accidentally left it recording from earlier when i was messing with some new track ideas."

a burst of laughter escaped your lips, both embarrassed and amused. "seriously?"

mark slips his headset over his head and nods, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he scrolls through audio files and clicks the last one, “yeah, seriously — oh my god listen to this…”

you pout, “mark, no way you can’t be serious.” you rush over to his side and he hands you the headset. you press the device against your ear and hear your vulgar, pornographic chants of mark’s name from earlier over the verse he’d played for you. you felt your cheeks heat up, but you couldn't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

you bury your face in his chest, pulsating with laughter. "please tell me you're not planning to release that.”

he kissed the top of your head, still chuckling. "don’t worry, this one's for our ears only. it lowkey sounds fire though…”

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! Sam sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)

A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[eowynstwin]

disquiet comfort

previous - neighbors - next

John hears you through the walls. cw: accidental voyeurism, implied masturbation

John hears the creak of your bed springs the next morning.

He’s not surprised by it—you’re not the first neighbor he’s had, only the first he’s met. He knows how thin the walls are now, and has long passed the point of finding it annoying. He listens as the sound of your taps coming on filters through drywall and insulation at a low hum, thinks he can hear the buzz of an electric toothbrush. He wonders if you can hear his razor going as he trims his mustache.

It feels nice to have this odd company, he thinks. The two of you, going through the same motions. It strikes an old, abandoned chord—he hasn’t woken up with anyone in a long, long time.

He puts his razor down and squashes the thought flat. His neighbor—his kind, pretty neighbor—does not need him to think like that. Even if your eyes had traveled the length and breadth of his body before making it to his face.

He meets his own eyes in the mirror, giving himself a flat look. He isn’t used to civilian life. Answering the door shirtless had probably been some sort of faux pas. If you’d been looking, you’d probably been more disconcerted than anything else. That’s the long and short of it, he tells himself, because there’s no room for anything else.

John is never very good at being home. The things that keep him alive out there—hyperawareness, sharply defined mission parameters, strict operational regimens—are, at home, needs that go unmet. Liverpool is not a popular terrorist hotbed he needs to pay attention to. He isn’t going to die if he forgets to buy milk. And he can only go to the gym so often.

But he needs something to do, or he’s going to go crazy.

So today he does on leave what he dreams of in the field: he has his first of two showers for the day, makes himself breakfast in his own kitchen, and turns on the telly for the noise. It’s some dumb morning show, with too-clean hosts shilling for weird kitchen tools. Easy to ignore.

Inevitably, he thinks about Mexico. About Shepherd. About Chicago, and Hassan, and Laswell telling him he needs to get some goddamn rest before he kills himself trying to stop a war that isn’t even happening.

“Yet,” he’d ground out.

She’d just stared at him with dagger-sharp eyes and told him to go home.

John bites into his toast harder than a grown man told to take a fucking vacation should, and turns up the volume.

Three soft, polite taps sound on the wall.

John blinks. Remembers the previous morning, what he’d said to you. The remote is in his hand before he thinks about it, the mute button depressed beneath a quick thumb.

The quiet is like the end of a gunfight. Unsteady.

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. The silence stretches. He notices a shaft of sunlight coming through his window, little motes of dust dancing in the air, as he looks around his own flat for some reason. It’s habit—surveying a battlefield after it’s been passed over by violence.

He looks back to the space above the TV. Rises carefully from his seat. Goes over to the wall.

Raps his knuckles twice against it. All good?

Immediately there are two taps in response. Yes, thanks! And the break of the still silence is like a soap bubble popping. John breathes, and then realizes he hadn’t been.

There are no further knocks. It disappoints him, but he does not expect them. It’s just a friendly interaction between neighbors.

It doesn’t matter. It feels like something has unknotted in his chest.

He feels almost like a voyeur as the day goes on. He hears when you work in your kitchen, notes the muffled clang of a pan on the stove. He hears your dishwasher run later, and briefly wonders at the utility of using it for so few dishes.

You’re on the phone at one point, but he can’t make out the conversation. He only half-tries to, but the even the indistinct, low sound of your voice is comforting. It reminds him of late nights in the barracks, listening to bunk mates talk while trying not bother anyone else. The closest to domestic comfort John has really ever had.

You turn music on at one point, something soulful and a little moody. John thinks it might be Marvin Gaye, but he’s not sure. The urge to knock on your door and ask is a strong one, but he doesn’t think you need a lonely old soldier bothering you in the middle of your day. At least, not any more than he already has. And before he can figure it out for himself, he hears you exclaim “Oh, shit!” and the volume immediately drops.

He has to smile at that. It’s a rare luxury for him to experience these days, that kind of consideration.

Something in his chest gives a little jump when he hears two knocks on his wall again. Sorry, he thinks you’re saying.

He knocks twice back. All good.

He should not feel so invigorated by this exchange.

You leave the house a little after noon—he hears your door open and close, and the jingle of keys followed by footsteps quickly retreating. Then, your noise is gone.

John and silence do not go well together. Too quickly, the quiet closes in, and John thinks if he stays in his own home a minute longer he’ll suffocate from it—so he takes your cue, and leaves. He isn’t really sure what to do, but he has to do it anywhere else.

He gets home after you do, sore from the weight racks and full on pub food and a few pints. The sky is dark and the sidewalks are illuminated in yellow lamplight, and the air hums with the wind of cars driving in the distance. He sees your window lit up bright and warm, and the relief it fills him with is disproportionate to how anyone should feel knowing that their neighbor is home.

Where did you go during the day, he finds himself wondering? What are you making for dinner? What will you do once you’ve eaten?

John realizes he’s standing there staring at your window, and scowls at himself. He’s a fucking creep, that’s what he is. A pretty neighbor talks to him once, fucking welcomes him home like any nice person would, and suddenly he’s pining like a stupid little schoolboy.

He goes inside. Hears you in your kitchen again and convinces himself he’s ignoring it. Tries to find something to stay awake with. Has one cigar more than he’d planned for the day, and thinks at least he’ll get to go out and get more sooner—something to do with the wealth of time he didn’t ask to receive.

He’s already in bed, second shower finished, when he hears activity on the other side of the wall. He hadn’t really been falling asleep, but he’s wide awake now, and feeling like a pervert as he listens to your bath come on.

He hasn’t gone to bed with anyone in a long time, either.

John lays there in the dark, eyes open, and tries to ignore how easy it is to breathe as the water runs muffled only a few feet away. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that he can hear again the tiny buzz of a toothbrush a little after the flow shuts off. He listens to the creak of your bed and does not think about how warm your skin must be, how softly the sheets must fall around your body.

He closes his eyes. He tries to sleep. He isn’t thinking about listening to your breathing beside him. He isn’t drifting off imagining the smell of your hair on his pillow…

He hears a tiny buzz again. Brushing your teeth a second time? No, it’s closer now…

Oh. OH.

John’s eyes fly open. Your bed creaks again. He is rigid under the covers, every muscle tensed. He breathes consciously, testing the limits of his diaphragm, counting to three between each inhale and exhale. He is desperate that his pulse remain even, that his blood refrain from rushing through his ears and other parts.

A small sound. Breathy. Low.

John slaps his hand against his thigh before it can move any further inward. He curls his fingers around the hem of his briefs, grips the fabric as if it’s going to save his damn life. Clenches his other hand into a fist, digs his nails into his palm.

What expression is on your face? What is the scent of your toothpaste on your breath?

What angle are you holding that vibrator at?

You give a low moan again.

His breath shallows out. John considers giving the wall a tap but dismisses the option immediately and ruthlessly. He will take his secret audience to the fucking grave. And he’d shoot himself before denying you this—and, he thinks shamefully, denying himself this, too.

He should get up. He should go into his living room and give you privacy. Your bed creaks again. He remembers his own mattress tends to the same disruption. He can’t move, because it would effect the same outcome as a knock—you’d know exactly how thin the walls are, know that he’s right there and that he’s only leaving after he’s already gotten an earful.

Another sound, higher. John isn’t sure he’s breathing anymore. What did your skin feel like? Would his fingers fit you better than that toy? Would his cock?

He thinks he feels a nail break skin. He tries to think of anything other than the throb of blood and heat between his legs, between your legs.

You give a sudden, high-pitched cry, one that abruptly cuts off.

John knows you’ve buried your face in your pillow to quiet yourself. His entire body twinges with the disappointment of it. He breathes so lowly as to be silent, to give space to your noise, and waits.

But the buzzing stops. Your bed shifts again, and then all is silent.

Wait. What?

Was that it?

The silence stretches. John does not move. That was it.

John does not think about how much longer he could’ve made that last. He does not think about teasing you with his hands, his lips, his tongue. Does not picture your legs hung up high on his hips.

His cock aches. He ignores it.

The gym tomorrow. And then a run. Maybe a drive to the coast, and a dip in the cold ocean.

It wouldn’t be enough, but it had to be something. John isn’t going to get a minute of sleep, and he’s going to be hearing that cut-off moan for a long, long time.

[jflemings]

— loving you’s the antidote

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: a past summer fling floats back into your life

warnings: none

୧ ‧₊˚ 🌺 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Take me back to the light / I know you were way too bright for me / I'm hopeless, broken / So you wait for me in the sky

you release a patient breath as your coworker’s son jake runs ahead of you up the stairs. his small feet slap against the tile floor, making you cringe and hope that none of your neighbours are trying to take a midday nap. the pineapple floatie you’re holding under your arm squeaks as you adjust it in an attempt to have a better hold on it.

you huff as you feel the plastic dig into the skin of your armpit and begin regretting not just letting jake carry it back to your apartment like he wanted. had the elevator in your building not be under repairs you would’ve, but you weren’t about to risk him tripping over with the fruit pool float and smacking his head on the floor.

that certainly wasn’t a conversation you were willing to have with his mother while she was out of state.

you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings as you reach the top of the stairs, too busy trying to hold onto the pineapple whilst fishing your keys out of your denim shorts. jake suppresses a giggle as he follows you silently to your door, tiptoeing and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

just as you fish your keys out of your pocket he yells. your heart jumps to your throat and your hands fly out, your keys and pool toy along with them. you stomp your foot frustratedly “jake!”

the seven year old’s giggles echo through the floor meaning that you don’t hear the sound of a nearby door opening and closing.

you lean down to pick up your keys just as you see the pineapple lift off the ground in your peripheral.

“thank you” you begin to say with a sigh “i’m sorry if he scared you, he doesn’t realise how loud he is—” you cut yourself off as you stand up straight and look at the stranger.

the blue eyes looking back at you hold a familiar warmth. the air gets knocked out of your lungs.

“kate” you say shocked.

she scratches the back of her neck and her grip tightens ever so slightly on the plastic “y/n” she says with a small smile “hey”

you’re sure you look like a total fool with your dropped jaw and disheveled appearance, but you can’t help it. you can’t believe she’s standing in front of you.

“hey” you greet slowly, the confusion making it’s way onto your face “what are you doing here?”

“i just moved here for work” the blonde says as she tilts her head “what about you?”

“work” you nod.

the two of you stand opposite eachother unmoving for what feels like an eternity. your eyes travel her body and take note of her simple outfit: black basketball shorts and a las vegas aces shirt. it’s a familiar sight seeing her this comfortable, and your mind takes you back to her dressed in almost the same outfit except with an iowa shirt on.

your keys jingle in your hand, breaking the trance that the two of you have found yourselves in. her eyes come back into focus as she shoves the pool toy in your direction “here ya go”

“thanks” you sigh “sorry about him” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder to jake — who you had forgotten was even there up until now — and give her your most apologetic smile. “he doesn’t really know what volume control is yet”

kate dismisses your apology with her hand “no biggie. i probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it if i wasn’t walking out the door”

jake comes in between the two of you and takes his toy off the blonde, mumbling a thanks as he stands beside you again.

“right” you nod once and look at jake over your shoulder, who looks like he’d rather be watching paint dry than stand here and listen to you try to have a half decent conversation with someone you’ve had sex with. “we’re gonna make some lunch so i’ll let you go”

“oh, yeah, yeah sure” kate smiles as she steps back “it was good seeing you again”

“yeah, you too”

you’re quick to turn and unlock your door, ushering the young boy inside and kicking off your birkenstocks. jake gladly walks through your apartment and heads for the sliding glass door that leads to your balcony.

“who was that? i’ve never seen her before” he asks loudly as he throws the float onto the concrete.

you drop your keys on the kitchen counter and open the fridge “…an old friend” you say shortly “what do you want for lunch?”

jake walks towards your coffee table and picks up your tv remote so he can pick something to watch whilst you make food “she was really tall. how come you’re not that tall?”

“because that’s how life works. lunch?” you answer as you look through your fridge. the original plan was burgers, but you’re kind of hoping he’ll settle for something easier now that your mind is running a million miles a minute.

“mum says if i was a girl i would’ve been called kate”

you huff and close the fridge “jake”

he turns and looks at you over his shoulder “yeah?”

“lunch. what do you want for lunch?”

“burgers!” he shouts excitedly.

— —

it’s about one in the morning when you find yourself laying on your back staring at your ceiling fan. your mind hadn’t stopped racing since your interaction with kate, your thoughts being heavily plagued by your summer spent with her last year.

it was a whirlwind to say the least. you’d met her on a whim in a coffee shop and immediately hit it off, her blue eyes and soft confidence completely encapsulated you and left you wanting to know her. she’d given you her name and number and that night the two of you left a bar and ended up back in your bed.

the two of you had a no strings attached agreement. you didn’t get eachother’s social media, know what schools you went to, or even eachother’s last names. all you had was her face name, her number, and the memory of her pretty blue eyes bored into your brain.

even after the two of you cut contact you didn’t look for her. you ignored the iowa hawkeyes shirt she wore and resisted the urge to try to track her down on instagram, even if you found yourself with the urge more than once.

you wondered if she had done the same to you or if she had given in and found you online. you wondered if she went through your instagram, or maybe looked you up on facebook; you wondered if she saw your ucla sweatshirt and thought to try to find you that way. maybe she kept herself up at night wondering where you were and what you were doing like you had done so many times.

you didn’t think you’d ever see her again. you wished too, sure, but you never imagined that she’d come to live directly across the hall from you. goosebumps erupt over your body at the thought of her being to close again.

the truth was that you grew to resent your no strings attached situation. you had fallen for everything that kate was and when it came time to end things, you found your heart breaking in your chest.

having her so close to you again left you wanting to pick things up right where you left them. she was here for work, which meant that she was here to stay. you could give yourself the chance to have her entirely, not just for a hot summer.

you sigh and pull your covers further up your body and bury your head in your plush pillow. your mind doesn’t slow as you toss and turn, finally finding a comfortable position on your side after a good ten minutes of trying to close your eyes. memories of a summer gone fill your sleep-slow brain like a movie, blurring the line between reality and your wish filled dreams. you’re almost lulled to sleep when your phone buzzes on your nightstand.

something turns in your gut as you blindly reach over and grab it. the light almost blinds you at your screen lights up.

kate: coffee sometime?

[iveseenstrangerthings]

more than friends - a steve harrington imagine

summary: a real fluffy imagine after writing angst for the past few, best friends turns to lovers. Reader is teased about their close relationship with Steve by a jocky asshole, so Steve decides to do something about his feelings. both are obviously pining for each other but just don’t know how to do something about it!!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: really cringe asshole male talk about female character (inappropriate sexual remarks) & swearing.

thanks @urfriendlywriter for the friends to lovers confession prompt!!! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alrighty class, notes for the biological study are on the blackboard, you have the full hour to complete this. I expect everyone to have the practical experiment done, and their write up started by the bell. Am I clear with that?” Mrs Peters stands with her hands on top of her blooming belly, slightly leaning against the desk with her hip. 

The class grumble a response and Mrs Peters smiles, nodding. “I’ll float until my ankles hurt,” She starts, hinting to her swollen pregnancy ankles and gets a murmur of laughter in response, “Off you go!” 

The equipment is already lain out for you and your lab partner, Brad. He stands awfully close to you as you sort through the different brightly coloured flowers scattering your table. You have a feeling you’ll end up doing all the work, with Brad copying everything down in the last ten minutes. 

“Jheez.” Brad whistles under his breath as the class volume raises to the sound of students discussing their impending flower dissections. “Wonder who the lucky bastard is that gets a ride on her.” You turn to face him, your insides screaming with utter disgust, he motions his head to Mrs Peters and slides his eyebrows up and down. 

“You’re disgusting.” You say to the white peony that you’ve set out for your first dissection. Brad hears, and just laughs to you. He takes that as a joke, as a compliment, and it disgusts you even more. “Can you start to take the petals off those,” your eyes flit to the five other flowers laid out in a neat, colourful row, “and make notes on their type of pollination?” A tinge of annoyance already lacing your voice.

“Their type’ah what now?” He sits picking the petals off roughly, not following any of Mrs Peters prior instructions, and that fills you with rage. As someone who excels in school and wants to do well, your lab partner pairing feels like someone, somewhere, wants to torture you. You realise that it’s going to be easier, and less painful, if you just do it. Just crack on with the lab practical and let Brad sit there and sniff the pretty petals. “Can you get high on this stuff?” He says, his nose dotted with a tiny bit of pollen from where he dug it into the centre of the flower.

You widen your eyes and nod enthusiastically, “High as a kite.” You confirm, sarcastically, and his eyes glow back at you. Jesus...

Time passes and you’re in your element, investigating stigmas and anthers up close under the microscope, adding to your quick diagrams of each part with brief, but helpful, notes. Ones that Brad will no doubt copy from in due course. He’s sitting, like an impatient child, folding and tearing the petals he picked off earlier. The only time he’s made an effort so far is when Mrs Peters made her rounds and he came to stand by you and ‘make notes’ on your observations, only to sit back down again and scribble in the margin of his notebook when she slunk back away.

“Harrington shown you a good time yet, huh?” Brad’s voice breaks the silence between the two of you and your cheeks flush a deep red as you squint through the lens of the microscope. A thick glob of saliva forms under your tongue which you swiftly swallow back. “Come on, we’re in biology... can we not discuss things like that?” 

You lift your head from the lens and look at him. His face is expectant, expectant of your response, hoping for a bite back, and he calmly crosses his arms over his chest. Your cheeks are still firing up, your vision goes slightly blurry for a short while as white-hot anger burns up inside you. After glaring at him for some time, you return to your position at the microscope.

Before you could realise, he’s bumping your arm with his and leaning down to speak to you, not even the beautifully intricate flower beneath you is giving you any sanity. “If he’s too much of a pussy to do it, let me show you what a good time is really like.” He’s so close you can feel his breath warm your ear and send shivers down your spine, feeling like it’s hitting every vertebrate on the way down. 

“Steve and I are just friends.” The more uninterested you seem, the more likely he is to give up on his pursuit and just shut the fuck up. Or so you’re hoping. 

He scoffs, “Pfft.” His tongue creeps from his mouth and licks his bottom lip, “Friends with benefits? C’mon. I ain’t stupid.” He goes quiet then you feel a soft tickle forming down your spine, Brad’s finger. Then, his breath back in your ear, “Bet he doesn’t know your sweet spots.” 

You shoot back from Brad, holding your hands up, like you’ve been scolded with a hot iron, “Okay. That’s it.” You charge from your station down to the front where Mrs Peters sits, grading papers. “Mrs Peters.” You say, quietly now that you’re down here, not wanting anyone to hear your conversation. In your hands, your fingers tremble slightly with the adrenaline of the conversation you just had. “I would like to request a change of lab partner.” Your voice comes out strong and confident but your face paints a different picture. “Please.”

Mrs Peters looks behind you, at your now half empty desk, and to Brad who sits and moves stems and petals around the table into a phallic shape. He grabs the attention of the pair in front, who seem displeased at the childish distraction. She raises her brows in his direction, when he meets her glare, his cheeks flush a light pink, and he rearranges the flowers into the muddle they were before. 

“Say no more, sweet pea.” She says with an exasperated sigh, shuffling papers to pull out her seating plan. You look over as she pulls a pencil from her pot and pats her lip with the eraser. “Eleanor’s in need of a partner.” She says, tracing over the spare seat on her plan, “That sound good?” Mrs Peter’s kind eyes meet your own and she offers you a sincere smile. 

“That would be great.” Your heart leaps with relief. 

“Finish up there for today, you can move on Monday. He can stay with me.” As you make your way back to your desk, Mrs Peters calls out from hers. “Brad Norton.” The class falls silent, her usual sing-song voice has turned cold, stern. “I don’t recall asking you to make penises with your pretty little flowers. You can stay and do your lab work, tho-rough-ly,” she sounds out each syllable in the word, the veins in her neck protruding with distaste at her student, “with me in detention.” 

The classroom remains quiet as you find your seat and complete your notes. “Bitch.” Is muttered venomously from next to you and you’re unsure if it’s directed at you or Mrs Peters, but you’re past caring. 

                                                          ✦ ✦ ✦

On Friday nights, you and Steve like to walk from school to the diner which flickers welcomingly in the dark winter light as you approach. As usual, you take to your table which is located in the corner of the diner. It is cosy. You love coming here, especially with Steve. It’s a time that you can spend together, just the two of you, have a burger, have a milkshake, and just catch up on the week. You adore your Friday nights with Steve. 

Now, you’re leaning against the comfy backing of the squishy diner chair, the fabric crinkling awkwardly as you get yourself comfortable. You’ve both cleared your plates, smears of ketchup and dustings of salt lie in remnant of what was two full plates of burgers and fries. Gluttonously, as your stomach feels heavy with the greasy food that you adore, you continue to gulp your milkshake. 

“I heard Brad Norton got a detention today in bio.” Steve finishes dragging his last fry through a dreg of ketchup before placing it into his mouth, laughing at the new conversation topic. You simply roll your eyes and let the milkshake freeze your back teeth before swallowing. 

“He’s an asshole.” You retort, swirling your straw around in the thick, creamy drink. Your eyes stay fixed on the pink substance in your glass, watching the small particles of ice slowly melt the more you stir. “I’ve switched partners, finally. I asked Mrs Peters to move.” 

“Really?” 

You nod, your brows furrowing. “Uh, yeah. I don’t fancy sitting and getting creepy back strokes from him for the rest of the year.” 

Steve sits back against the seat, “He did what?” A surge of jealousy, and anger flits through him and you can see it flash across his eyes, a change so subtle you feel proud you noticed. He knows that would’ve made you uncomfortable and he knows where Brad usually goes on a Friday night, he runs over the possibility of going there and beating the shit out of him, but quickly decides that would be a terrible idea. “Is that what he got his detention for? Being a creep?” 

You laugh slightly, “Close.” You take another gulp of milkshake. “He was making dicks out of the flowers.” You realise you’re talking to your milkshake and not to Steve, he’s noticed too and realises there’s more to this story than you’re letting on. He knows you too well. 

“You sure that’s all he did?” He knows not to push things with you, but the feeling is bubbling up inside of him. 

You toy with the idea for a moment. Tell Steve, let Steve get angry and potentially make your favourite night of the week awkward? Or, don’t tell Steve, enjoy each other’s company and go from there? 

You’ve both been close to sharing your feelings with each other on multiple occasions, sat in this very booth. The diner must have an aura that allows you to become content with your feelings with one another, almost becoming more than friends. The diner is where you’ve shared feelings, ranted about shitty weeks, shitty dates; cried into milkshakes over the clear downfall of Hawkins. But it’s also where you’ve brushed hands as you reach for napkins, letting your fingertips linger a little longer than is necessary. It’s where you’ve held eye contact as you talk about things that interest you, the other listening with intent adoration. His eyes glisten as he listens to you discuss another biological theory that you love talking about with him, his lips curling as he listens intently and marvels at your passion and drive for science. You return the active listening as he discusses the trips to the Upside Down, watch little pieces of him break apart as he cracks open his memories of things he tries so hard to supress, but keep creeping back into his consciousness. 

So, with all that in mind, you decide to tell him. “He quizzed me on whether you show me a good time.” You blurt out, placing your milkshake down and folding your arms onto the table. “said he would show me a good time, said he knew my sweet spots. Basically, he spent the lesson trying to get into my pants.” 

His face is a picture of disgust, his eyebrows furrowing so deep you think they’ll knit together. “I promise you; he is one of a kind.” He holds his hands up in defence, “We are not all sex crazed lunatics who like making people feel uncomfortable.” His features soften and he looks over to you, taking in your features as he likes to here. They look softer in the glow of the luminous light that hangs above their window, the streetlights casting a yellow tinge into the corner where you sit tucked away. “I’m sorry he made you feel like that.” His voice is sincere.

You shake it off with a whip of a hand, “Shall we get out of here?” 

He nods, leaving the money on the table. “Come back to mine? We can watch a movie.” 

As you stand to straighten yourself up, you smile back at him warmly, nodding gently at his offer. 

                                                         ✦ ✦ ✦

Warm waves of air circulate out of the heater placed by your feet as you sit in Steve’s basement on the couch, watching a new film Steve rented out. You haven’t really been paying attention, you’ve been more interested in gradually moving your limbs inch by inch closer to Steve’s, your breath hitching as you feel him doing the same. Soon enough, you’re sat with your arms pressed against one another and your leg is resting comfortably against his. 

“Can’t stop thinking about what that asshole said to you.” His voice sounds weird after not talking for so long, the only sound being the grumbling heater and the soundtrack of the film playing out in front of you.

You rub his arm gently, sighing, “Stop thinking about it Steve, he’s not worth it.” 

“No, I know.” He’s quiet for a while again, the flickers of vibrant colours on the screen lighting up his features and your eyes travel around them all. He feels your eyes on him and leans to pause the TV, the sudden cut of sound making the room feel too quiet. Your breathing slows, waiting for him to start the conversation again. Sheepishly, you slowly pull your hand from his arm, suddenly feeling awkward having left it there for so long. He turns his body so he’s facing you and you scoot back a touch, propping your arm up on the back of the couch and leaning your head against your palm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You probe delicately, you can tell he has something whirlpooling in his mind. 

He shakes his head, smiling coyly. “Just thinking.” 

“About...” Your hands tumble over one another, hinting for him to go on. 

“You.” His bluntness makes your stomach squeeze tight, as if you’ve just dropped from one of those free-fall rides at the amusement park. His face remains unchanged, his eyes studying yours. “Thinking about you.” 

Slowly, you take a deep breath in. Unaware you were holding it in the first place. “Why me?” Annoyingly, your voice comes out as quiet as the hum of the heater, almost inaudible to someone who wasn’t trained in on the conversation. Suddenly the room feels warm, and you realise this could be the time to have the conversation you’ve been longing to have.

“’Cause I think about you all the time.”

You’d hoped all this time that he does just that.

And he does, he thinks of you when you aren’t there, when he’s lonely, when he feels sad, when he lies awake at night wishing he could turn over and feel the warmth of your skin against this. Wishing he could spend the night with you in a blur of heavy breathing, lustful kisses and soft moans. Wishing he could tell you how much you mean to him afterwards, holding you close whilst you both catch your breath and settle into the sheets in a dream-like state. He’s realising now how close he is to having all of this. To having you. If you want him, that is. 

“I know you feel what I feel.” His voice is low and his hand travels to rest just in between the two of you, like he wanted to commit to holding you but got scared half-way and changed his mind. 

A speckle of heat rests on your cheeks. “What is it that you feel?” Again, your voice is quiet, and you feel the pulse thick and fast, the heat rising up your neck from your chest. 

He clears his throat. “I know we both enjoy the time we spend together, as friends. But I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.” Silence settles over the pair of you, but you know that he’s not done yet, so you wait patiently for him to continue. “You make me feel so comfortable and you always know how to cheer me up, when to give me space, when to distract me from whatever’s going on...”

Hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the tingling sensation of adrenaline courses through your body. He continues, “I hate the fact that even assholes like Brad know there is something between us.” He sighs softly but carries on, “The fact that we haven’t even done as much as discussed how we feel, yet he’s happy to make degrading sexual comments to you about us.” 

You nod along in agreement. “I know.” Suddenly, your whole body feels drawn to him and you slide back along the couch, shuffling down into his side and placing your head in the crook of his neck, resting your arm over his stomach. This feels right, you think to yourself happily. “I love spending time with you, too. I have loved growing close to you these past few months and I-”

He lets his arm fall around your shoulders and he cuts you off, “Wait.” He insists as you feel his other hand come to rest gently against your neck, his thumb resting lightly against your jaw. “Look at me when you say it.” With his hand still resting on your neck, he gradually guides your face up so that it’s inches away from his own. His eyes travelling lazily over your features he’s grown to know so well before locking in with your own. 

Inside your chest, your heart is hammering wildly. Never have you been this close. Never this intimate. “I want to be with you, Steve.” You quietly admit, although it’s not much of a shocker. A smile forms on his lips, which have now moved ever so close to your own. Impatient and running on adrenaline, you close the gap between the pair of you and bring your lips together. His hand stays firmly on your neck, his fingertips gradually gripping the hair at the nape of your neck as your fist grasps his t-shirt as the kiss intensifies. 

The months of longing are finally coming to a head here and now as you are both desperate for each other. Not just in a sexual longing, but an emotional and physical intimacy longing, too. You can feel yourself getting lulled further into the kiss as his tongue searches for your own. 

After a few moments have passed, you both pull away gently, chests slightly heaving as you both work to catch some of your breath back. You rest your forehead against his and brush your nose past his, moving back to give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth. “What do you say then?” You can see the happiness radiating across his face, the creases by his eyes and the soft pink glow gives it all away. His thumb traces across your cheek, “You wanna give us a shot?” He says.

Nodding, you reflect the same happiness glow that Steven is portraying. “I wanna give us the best shot.” 

Satisfied, he takes his hand back from your face and you feel how hot your cheek has been under his touch. He holds you close to him as he reaches back down to play the movie. A couple minutes later, he clears his throat. “And, if ‘Brad’” He uses air-quotes around his name, “Or any of his asshole friends wanna make any comments to you again, I’ll drop those motherfuckers.” He point blank says as his eyes follow along with the scene playing out in the movie before you.

The sudden threat from Steve brings a laugh out from you and it fills the room. Your shoulders shake as your laugh intensifies; he gestures his hands towards the TV. “Hey, do you mind keeping it down? Trying to watch a movie here.” He tuts and shakes his head playfully before resting it on top of your own, tracing his fingertips over your arm so that tiny goosebumps raise on your skin. A couple of minutes later, you find your breathing rising and falling at the same time as Steve’s, your eyes fall softly closed as you’re lulled into a light sleep, cocooned under the blankets and Steve’s arms. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[satrs]

ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ꜰɪɢʜᴛꜱ.

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; Every Couple fights, but it's the make-up that lasts longer.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Akaza x gn!reader(written with fem in mind)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.0k

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. unprotected sex. Fighting(like, literally lol). fingering. rough sex(?). choking. dom!akaza.

Every couple fights sometimes, it's natural. There is a spark that gets lit, and an explosion of curses and spits of venom follow, until it eventually dissolves into tiny fragments in the air, bringing the argument to an end.

But with you and Akaza, it was different. You two didn't fight how some think you would- those typical clashes were very rare between the both of you. When the both of you fight, then you fight. Quite literally.

"You never learn." A surprised gasp escaped you as Akaza swiftly overpowered you and with a blink of an eye, a huff forced itself past your lungs as your back made contact with the ground, him tackling you firmly to the ground, a smug smirk creeping on his lips.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to break free of his grasp with all your might, his firm hold showing no sign of letting go. "Fuck you." Your venomous voice made him chuckle in return, one hand sneaking its way to your waste, fingers running teasingly across it. "You would love to, right?"

You gritted your teeth as you let out a grunt in defeat, cursing under your breath as you lifted your head from the ground, attacking the red-haired's lips.

You could feel his cocky grin on you, taking the chance of him being distracted as your hand sneaked free from his hold, leg wrapping around his waist as you swiftly threw him over, now on top of him, caging him underneath you.

His expression turned into one of amusement, only irritating you further. "Can't you stay serious even once?" He bit his lip to contain the smile that was threatening to creep up his lips, knowing you would slap him across the face if he would give in to the temptation. But oh how he loved to tease you.

He shrugged his shoulders in a playful manner, your vein visible on your forehead as you leaned down, hand taking a firm hold of his chin, flashing his fangs in the process. "Don't fuck with me."

He was quick to place his hand back on your hip, thumb gently stroking it as he looked up at you, eyes tinted in lust. "But I want to." His grin soon turned bigger as he saw a small smile on your lips.

"You're such a pain." You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a kiss as he sighed into your mouth in contentment. "And you love it." He could feel the grin against his lips, grip on your hips tightening as he felt your grip release and your fingers glide along his exposed chest.

His groans turned higher in volume as your hips grind against his growing bulge, moans escaping your lips by your clit bumping against it. Akaza's hips began to stutter up into yours, pleading with you to do, something.

"Say please." Your words and your cocky grin caused his eyebrows to twitch, a questioning look on his face. Your grin only turned bigger at that, stopping your movements to help his memory on the leaps, an annoyed sigh leaving his lips at your actions.

"Get going already." The grin on your face is still prominent, a light chuckle escaping your lips. "What's the magic word, Akaza?" He took your inattention as an opportunity to take the initiative of the situation and throw you over again, this time holding you down by the throat to immobilize you.

His fingers dug into your throat so you are still able to breathe, but too uncomfortable to try any tricks. The antagonizing feeling of his fingers around your neck and his other hand creeping its way into your pants, teasing you made your breathing rapidly increase. "F-fuck, knock it off."

He showed no sign of letting go, hand in your pants now making quick work to your underwear, his fingers already plunged in your hole, your moan causing his already hard cock to twitch in excitement. "What's the magic word, Y/N?"

You remained silent, displeasing him, which caused him to stop his movements, hand around your neck slightly tightening, cutting off some of your oxygen. "P-please." He grinned at your pleas and almost in an instant he stripped the both of you out of your bottoms, groaning as he stroked his erection, alining it to your entrance.

Your lower lip was captured between your teeth as he bottomed out inside of you, his hand back on ýour throat, an animalistic groan leaving his lips at your walls embracing his aching length.

"This turns you on? Me choking you?" You whined in protest, eyes screwing shut as you felt his cock drilling in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours. "Don't even lie." His grip on your throat was still prominent, bringing you up near his face, his eyes examined your expression as he whispered against your lips. "Can feel you sucking me in like a fucking vice."

A strangled moan came from your throat, walls tightening around him as he pistoned his hips in and out of you, grunts and growls leaving him as he smashed his lips against yours.

You could feel yourself nearing your release, tightly gripping around him as your breathing turned ragged, clawing your fingers into his shoulders. "Fuck- I'm so close, Akaza." He let out a breathy laugh at that, smashing his hips harder against yours. "You're gonna cum? Me too baby."

With one more thrust of his hips you came, face twisting in pleasure, his grip around your throat only letting you breathe in and out to an extent. He soon followed you down the path of pleasure, grunting as he stayed snuggled deep inside of you, painting your walls with his hot cum.

A loud laugh rang through the air as he soon regained his breath, letting go of your throat as you coughed and sharply inhaled air, tears prickling at your lash line from your previous orgasm and his grip.

He looked down at you, an animalistic look in his eyes as he flashed his fangs at you. "I won,

Want a rematch?"

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[tarantulasnot]

☆ A continuation of my thirst ☆

Lucifer was simply too pretty. Even when he got overworked with his stressful job serving the prince of the devildom, he was pretty. Those eyebags were something that only he could pull off so majestically. However, you, as the attendant, had your own duty. To keep the brothers doing their best.

Lucifer can't do that if he's under so much stress now can he?

It all starts with a knock on his office door. "Lucifer," you call to him through the separation, waiting for some kind of reply. Unfortunately, you only get a sad grunt to ease your worries. With cautious steps, you slip inside of his office, noticing the stacks of paperwork surrounding him. "Oh dear, what are they doing to you?" You ask when you approach him. His hair's a mess, and his eyes speak volumes for his restlessness. "Nothing, my love." The eldest slips his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose, "I'm just doing my job."

Your eyebrows furrow in concern, and you slip into his lap. "Have you taken any breaks at least?" Gentle hands go to the side of his face to make him look at you, but it's clear what the answer is when he avoids your gaze. "You haven't taken one at all have you? You know that's not good for you."

Lucifer is quick to dismiss your doting. With a sigh, he raises his hands to grasp your hips, "I'm sorry," He mutters, pressing a kiss to your lips. It works almost every time when he kisses you so lovingly. His own little tactic to make you falter and give in to his wishes.

It won't work this time though.

As soon as his lips touch yours, a hand goes to the back of his head to keep him close to you. Lucifer gasps at the sudden movement, but he's equally as quick to melt into your touch.

Just like that... in an instant, his tactic is used against him.

Gloved hands grip your hips a little tighter as you deepen the kiss. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip, and as if on reflex, he willingly pops it open, letting your tongue slip over his and push it inside. The way he whimpers against the wet muscle gliding over his own is enough to have you starting to drip through your panties. Sadly, you have to pull away because of a cockblocker called oxygen. "I think now's a good time to take a break, yes?"

And oh, how divine Lucifer looks. He's always been rather submissive. Yet now? His chest is heaving with aroused breath, lips pulled between his teeth, all plump and shiny from your combined saliva. You can feel him already hardening beneath your thighs.

"I'll take that as a yes, then?" There was no reason for you to ask that question. You already knew the answer. And as if he needed to make it more clear, he squeezes your thighs again so he can hump his growing arousal against you. The action alone has him squealing, unable to control himself as he ruts against you, sliding your hips over the seam of his slacks.

"Oh you can't help yourself can you darling?"

Normally, he would be telling you off about saying something so vulgar. But now, he digs his face into your shoulder, stifling his moans as he humps you like some kind of desperate mutt.

"Please..." He whimpers, crying out when you start moving your hips along with him. His hands start shaking, and he thrusts upwards with more vigor. Applying more pressure with every time you come over the peak of his tent, his quiet whimpers turn into cries, pleading with you. "Please, please -" He whines as you grab his hair and pull it backward, his hips stuttering at the pain. Gorgeous ruby eyes squeezing shut with as you lick the shell of his ear. "You need to use your words, Luci."

In that same sentence, you slide your other hand over his chest to play with the nipples already poking through his shirt. As soon as your fingers find them, he begs high in his throat. "Oh! Fuck- just like that... please!" His eyes start watering when your pads pinch and tug on his poor bud through his shirt. "Touch me- please..."

"Oh, but aren't I already touching you?" Those lips of yours kiss his jaw, down his neck as you start to get on your knees. "Or does my boy want something more?"

"Yes, I- ohh f-fuck!" The way your hand suddenly comes down to press the heel of your palm against his boner elicits a squeak from him. The pressure hurts a little, but God if it didnt hurt so damn good. "Something like this, maybe?"

He nods, "More than that please," Gloved hands move from your hips to the armrests, his hips continuing to push against your hips. "Please-"

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and a booming voice call out to Lucifer. "May I come in? I have something to discuss with you."

(I know it's mid so far it gets better here 😭)

Quickly, you get him properly adjusted from the waist up, quickly ducking under the desk. Lucifer looks from you, to the dark spot forming in his pants, back to the door. "Let him in." You whisper.

And in that moment Lucifer knew he was done for. Yet even so, in his most composed voice he answers, "Yes, come in Diavolo."

From under the desk you have full access to his cock, it's twitching under his pants as Diavolo steps inside, and you wonder if this is doing something for him. The risk of getting caught?

Diavolo takes a seat across from Lucifer, and he can smell you. He can sense you under that flimsy desk and he lives for it. "So, I wanted to bring up a proposition about the future of RAD." The prince devours the sight of Lucifer so nervously darting his eyes down every now and then, his elbows supporting his weight, and the fingers interlocked to hold his chin shaking.

With Diavolo's words, you kiss Lucifer's bulge, gently running your tongue over the zipper. Your hands run up and down his thighs, watching how his breath hitches as he tries to hide his reactions. But it's to no avail.

Lucifer can feel Diavolo's eyes peering into him, and maybe it's the way your hands are dangerously close to his raging boner, or maybe it's the way the prince's eyes are giving him a knowing look that drives him insane, but with every passing second, the Lord's words become less and less tangible. Lucifer wants to beg you to stop, but he knows better than to do it in front of a soon to be king, which he is still hoping against hope doesn't realize what's happening.

Or maybe, he doesn't want you to stop at all.

Your hands undo his zipper and you pull down his pants and boxers just enough to let him spring free. Already, you spit in your hand to lube up the palm so it doesn't chafe him.

It takes everything in Diavolo not to lose his shit the minute he smells Lucifer's arousal waft through the air, your own drifting with him. His legs have to cross, so his erection won't be too obvious. Yet he can practically feel the need you two are sharing under his skin.

Lucifer is trembling. After such a long time of no contact, your hand on him feels like heaven, and he thinks he's going to go insane. Then, he feels your mouth wrap around his tip, suckling him while you stroke him faster. "hmngh- Oohh~!" Lucifer has to cough after letting out such a sound, but even then, it's a dominoe effect. One moan leads to so many more until he can't help it. His legs tremble as you start sucking him down all the way and he can't help the moans that escape him. Completely disregarding Diavolo's presence as he bucks into your throat. He practically wails as you play with his balls, gently fondling them and lifting them upwards.

You pull off his cock, stroking him fast and pulling one of his sacks into your mouth. "Such a slutty dick you have." Your finger taps the slit of his cock, relishing in the way his pre cum sticks to your digit. "It's practically drooling for me. Or maybe it's drooling for Diavolo?"

At first, the man was amused by Lucifer's sudden desperation, but as soon as those words leave your mouth, you see his legs in front of you, sitting on Lucifer's desk as he presses his lips to his.

His big hands take up half of Lucifer's face and he brings one of the fallen angel's hands down to brush against his erection, and immediately Lucifer's eyes roll back. "Mmngh! Mnf-!" He whines into Diavolo's mouth, palming the Lord's arousal and humping against your hand.

"He likes having his nipples played with." And Diavolo swallows this information like a parched man. You take Lucifer back in your mouth as Diavolo practically tears through the poor man's shirt and pushes his tongue further into Lucifer's mouth.

And God it's making him lose his mind. Your mouth absolutely swallowing his dick down to the base and Diavolo's bug calloused hands teasing and twisting his nipples while the Lord's tongue bullies its way down his throat has him dizzy. "More..." He whines through the kiss, fumbling to bring down Diavolo's pants. He gets it eventually and the sheer size has Lucifer going insane. "I need it- I'm gonna..." He separates from the kiss, leaning down to start sucking on Diavolo's cock, licking a stripe up the side and slobbering on it like a whore.

"The poor boy can't think about anything but your cock Diavolo." You coo, and you hear Diavolo growl deep in his throat at your words, petting Lucifer's hair. "You should see how much he's leaking into my mouth, I bet he wants your cock to split his pretty throat open, don't you baby?" You slap his thigh, continuing to suck him all the way to the base, and at the same time Diavolo pushes Lucifer's head down to bully his way into the desperate demon's throat. and the keen the poor man let's out is absolutely heavenly. Immediately, cum spurts out of Lucifer's tip, he's crying on Diavolo's cock when you don't stop. Ruby eyes meet gold ones as he continues to stretch his jaw around the girth of the Lord.

"Fuck, so pretty taking my cock like this..." Diavolo can't help but brush the hair out of Lucifer's face.

I got lazy oopsies

@sweeneyblue1 @3xv5s

[hana-no-seiiki]

【 PROVENANCE OF THE SUN | ZERO : ASCENSIONEM DEI NOVI 】

RISING SUN REMAKE

YANDERE! JJK! VARIOUS! x CULT GOD! READER x CULT MEMBERS

Sign up for the cult and get notified on when this updates by replying! [Taglist]

Synopsis: In the thousands of years Sorcerers have challenged curses, there was one thing they have yet to utilize. Blessings, constructed by the positive emotions of humanity such as love and adoration.

And at the center of it all was [Y/N] [L/N], ORTUS SOLIS’s biggest blessing yet.

THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF HAPPY REIGN BE THINE;

DELICATE, GLOVED HANDS combed through [hair color] tresses. Efficient in its movements; any tangled knots of hair swiftly disappeared. The chirping of birds and crickets, along with the golden luminescence of the sun breached through the glass panes and into the chambers of the dignified godling.

“May this lowly servant bask in the Sun’s glow.” Even if muffled by the doors between them. The deity knew which of their followers dared to interrupt their routine. Only few were bold — no — idiotic enough to impose.

The pampered child answered with a low volume, a heavy disinterest laced their voice, “Enter.”

RULE ON, MY LORD, UNTIL WHAT ARE PEBBLES NOW.

“This lowly servant has come to divulge the Sun with the words of the oracle.” An elderly man bursted in. Head high, he wore robes of grandeur quality; with golden embroidery upon white fabric. He stood out in the traditionally styled house. “Permission to speak?”

The pair of maids who worked on the child’s hair parted from their master. The action gave the man a full view of their entrancing form. Eyes of [eye color] gazed at him. He could already feel his limbs going weak. An overwhelming sense of exhilaration, adoration, and need to bow seeped into him. The man knew that if he had not been as exposed to the deity as he was throughout the years, their ethereality might have already made his heart stop.

The child’s eyes wandered throughout his figure. Every moment their glance lingered sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. Only for them to break their line of sight. “Permission granted.”

BY AGES UNITED TO MIGHTY ROCKS SHALL GROW.

Nay, he realized, it was not just their divine image nor scrutiny. Any sound that left from their lips would be enough to make a crowd dead where they stand, or at the very least be crippled by the paralyzing sensations of bliss. Indeed, this was the power of his Sun. None other than his lord, [Y/N].

A power he both feared and adored.

“The oracle has spoken. Due to the Queen Dowager’s unfortunate passing, the coronation shall take place soon.”

He couldn’t help but gasp as [Y/N] stood. Their full height at their age was far lesser than his, yet it was never a comfort. “How soon?”

“He said it – it would best be held next year . . . my Sun.”

Silence befell them.

Without a thought, the man kneeled. It did not matter how old or frail his body was, as soon as the warm emotions left him he knew he had offended their holy being.

“Do you have a family?”

“My Sun, p-please. You have to reconsider . . . ! “

Their frown indicated that he gave the wrong answer.

“I do not, my Sun . . . “ He bowed. His face was practically one with the floor.

“How mundane. In here I thought I’d get a show for this evening.”

He stands up in one quick motions. The crack of bones breaking and rearranging was arduous in itself to hear.

“MY SUN! MY HOLY LIGH—“

“You see, ever since that old hag died I realized — there’s no one alive that’s able to stop me from doing what I want anymore.”

“With a coronation or without. I am your god.”

“Through you, everyone will be informed. You get to die in service of a new dawn. Where would you find a better honor than this?”

The worst thing about the man’s last breath was that as agonizingly torturous his god’s rays of light were on him — he did not feel an ounce of anger or resentment.

Only unfettered, immaculate happiness.

WHOSE VENERABLE SIDES THE MOSS DOTH LINE.

[scriveyner]

breathe it in

“Is something burning? It smells like something is burning.” Akutagawa squinted at his phone, the only source of light in their room for the moment since Atsushi had hissed and gestured at him to not turn on the lamp on the bedside table.

“Nothing’s burning.” Atsushi crouched by the bedroom door. He’d cracked it open when they woke from the cacophony of pots and pans falling out of the cupboard downstairs. “It’s fine.” Akutagawa huffed indignantly behind him but didn’t move from the bed. “They’re doing something nice for you.”

Continue on AO3 or after the jump

When he glanced back over his shoulder, it was to see that Akutagawa had hung his head slightly, hair masking his expression from Atsushi. Atsushi smiled fondly and glanced back through the crack in the door. It didn’t matter how often it happened now, but Akutagawa was nearly always overwhelmed by gestures like this. It was a little adorable.

Shadows moved in the hallway. “Oh shit,” Atsushi huffed as quietly as he could, pulling the door as close to closed as he could manage without latching it. “Here they come, put your phone away!”

There was a quick shuffle of covers when Akutagawa slid his phone under the pillow while Atsushi bounded over him. The mattress bounced with his landing and settled, and Atsushi barely had time to burrow beneath the covers before the door creaked slowly open.

There was a long pause. Atsushi wondered for a moment if they’d been found out, but then there was the burst of small feet thumping on carpet and suddenly the entire bed bounced.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Acchan and Ryuu-chan went immediately to full volume. Atsushi was once again thankful for a detached house.

Akutagawa whuffed loudly and painfully, Rashomon exploded harmlessly in all directions. Atsushi rolled onto his back and pushed himself up on his elbows—Acchan had not spared his father his wrath, landing directly on his solar plexus. Ryuu-chan was at least more forgiving; standing on the mattress itself and not Akutagawa.

“Maybe don’t kill your dad,” Atsushi said, picking Acchan up and moving him off Akutagawa by the back of his shirt. “I would very much like for him to reach his next birthday.”

Akutagawa sat up slowly with a grimace, which relaxed once his lungs were able to circulate oxygen again. “We made breakfast,” Acchan said, now safely standing in the covers between Akutagawa and Atsushi.

“I made breakfast,” Ryuu-chan corrected, his own green-tinted Rashomon lifting the tray off the floor.

“I helped!”

“Acchan helped,” he conceded.

“Thank you,” Akutagawa said as he carefully took the tray from Ryuu-chan’s Rashomon. He balanced it on his lap, studying the spread. “Are these pancakes? I didn’t know you knew how to make pancakes.”

Ryuu-chan beamed. “Gin-neesan taught me! The last time we stayed overnight with them she taught me how to make a lot of things!”

“They’re very good,” Acchan added. “I helped taste test them.”

Atsushi snorted. “I bet you did.” He leaned over and tousled the top of Ryuu-chan’s head, leaving his short dark hair spiked in all directions. “They look fantastic. And hey, it’s you’re birthday too. Happy birthday!”

Ryuu-chan grinned from ear to ear.

“Why don’t Acchan and I go clean up while you birthday boys enjoy laying around in bed while you can.” Acchan flattened himself on the bed, but Atsushi scooped him up under one arm anyway, leaving Acchan to hang limp, defeated.

“But we already cleaned up,” he protested, limbs and head dangling. “Ryuu-chan made me dry the dishes. I didn’t even break anything this time!”

“Excellent. Let’s double-check your work.”

Ryuu-chan climbed over to Atsushi’s now empty side of the bed, and Akutagawa lifted his arm, allowing Ryuu-chan to snuggle up against him. “Thank you very much,” he said. “These pancakes are quite delicious. You must have gotten up very early to prepare them.”

As if on cue, Ryuu-chan yawned hugely into Akutagawa’s side. “I’m not tired,” he protested quickly, which led immediately into another yawn. Akutagawa let out a soft huff of amusement and kissed the top of Ryuu-chan’s head.

“Happy birthday, Ryuu-chan.”

“Happy birthday, dad!”

---

Ryuu-chan waved at Atsushi with his Rashomon as Kunikida-san carried him past, tucked securely under one arm. He had both his arms wrapped around the enormous long-neck dinosaur plushie that Kyouka gave him, and he clearly wasn’t interested in letting it go anytime soon. “Everyone is spoiling him rotten today,” Atsushi said, sincerely amused. There had been a minor attempt to get at least some work done today, but the moment Kunikida stopped caring literally everything productive halted immediately.

“It’s his birthday,” Akutagawa said. He leaned against Atsushi’s desk; arms folded as he supervised. Acchan trailed Kunikida and Ryuu-chan, his party hat slid mostly off his head and covered nearly head to toe with frosting.

“Well, it’s your birthday too,” Atsushi reminded him, chin in his hand as he watched the chaos. Akutagawa gave him a sour look and Atsushi stuck his tongue out, which made Akutagawa roll his eyes before huffing in amusement.

“And no one will let me forget it,” he said.

Tanizaki had bounded up to them when they first walked through the door earlier, holding party hats in both hands. Akutagawa had set his icy glare upon him, and he immediately turned tail. There were limits to what Akutagawa would put up with. Although, Atsushi suspected, that if Ryuu-chan asked him he would begrudgingly participate.

Fortunately, Ryuu-chan was quite distracted by so many presents. Kunikida-san set him down at Ranpo’s desk, where the easel he had received earlier was set up with paper and paints.

“Paint me,” Ranpo demanded, feet up on his desk. Ryuu-chan climbed up on the desk and began to arrange him, before situating his newest stuffed dinosaur in Ranpo’s lamp.

Yosano exited the conference room, now carrying Acchan by his scruff. “I’m going to go hose off your son,” she called, as Acchan was leaving bits of frosting in his wake. “He got into the distraction cake again.”

Atsushi hung his head and sighed, before standing. “I’ll help.”

“You’ll do no such thing; I am perfectly capable of hosing down a child.” Yosano waved him off. “Besides, is Dazai ever going to show up? I don’t want to miss that.”

“He’s taking us to dinner tonight, I believe,” Akutagawa said without bothering to pull out his phone.

“Which means that it’s actually Chuuya-san taking us to dinner tonight, and Dazai-san turning into a living mooch as usual.” Yosano rolled her eyes in amusement at that pronouncement but then disappeared through the door into the lavatory, Acchan suspiciously docile in her grip.

Atsushi slid his arm over Akutagawa’s waist, and Akutagawa leaned into Atsushi’s chest. Ranpo put his glasses on the dinosaur to Ryuu-chan’s eternal amusement, paint already smudged up on his nose. The office all around them was full of lively chatter.

Atsushi sighed, content. “Happy birthday, Ryuunosuke,” he murmured into Akutagawa’s ear, and Akutagawa tilted his head and smiled against the kiss.

[beanxiv]

hi beanie i saw u were asking for reqs for other fandoms so i came to the rescue ! have u seen that trend where someone's significant other says ily and they don't say it back?? u should do that with the kamaboko trio!!!

SAY IT BACK ! (gender neutral reader)

note: sorry for answering so late anon 😭 this is a very old wip that i dug up from my drafts but i hope u guys enjoy it

warnings: fluff, modern au

tanjirou kamado : his first thought is that maybe you didn't hear him.

he stops dicing up the vegetables he was working on and turns to you. "did you hear me, darling? i said i love you."

"yes, i know." you have to fight to keep a straight face.

you can see the gears turning in his head. "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything's good."

"are you mad? did something happen- did i do something?" the frown on his face almost makes your façade crumble.

you glance at your phone, hidden away on a nearby shelf where tanjirou can't see it recording him. you struggle between two options, drop the prank and reassure your loving boyfriend, or continue and make yourself feel guilty...

'i might hate myself after this,' you think to yourself before getting your act together.

"no, why would i be mad, tanjirou?"

he's put the knife down by now, and is shifting closer to you, concern lacing his soft features. "are you sure?"

"yes, tanjirou." you nod. your boyfriend freezes.

"what?"

you haven't called him tanjirou since... well, he can't even remember. it was always either an endearing petname or nickname.

you play dumb, tilting your head innocently. "what, is something wrong, tanjirou?"

it seems your boyfriend has finally had enough, "yes, something's wrong! why are you calling me tanjirou? and why haven't you said it back??" his expression is downcast, like a kicked puppy and you finally break.

"i'm sorry, baby." you throw your arms around the brunette, "it's just a prank, don't worry." you point out your phone and tanjirou audibly sighs in relief.

"you really scared me, love. i thought you were mad at me.." he's quick to squeeze you tight to his chest.

"i love you so much, tanji. i'm sorry for pranking you," you say sincerely.

"i'm just glad everything is okay. i don't know what i'd do if you suddenly stopped loving me," tanjirou mumbled against the crown of your head.

you pull away in shock, "'stop loving you'?? as if that's possible?? i'll never stop loving you, so don't say things like that."

tanjirou giggles, "i'll never stop loving you either, darling."

inosuke hashibara : immediately thinks you've lost hearing or something. because why else wouldn't you say it back??

"did you go deaf or something??"

inosuke is staring at you with his hands planted on his hips and a pout on his lips to show his frustration.

"hm? no, i heard you, ino." you mumble without looking up at him, instead focused on a scrolling across the screen of your phone.

inosuke grunts in confusion, "are y'sure?"

"mhm, i heard you." you shift on the couch where you lay so that your back is to inosuke.

and this gesture shocks him. seeing you turn your back towards him.. now he's convinced something's wrong.

"hey! why're ya acting like that??" he pouts harder, his arms moving to cross over his chest.

"like what, ino?" you sigh, turning up the volume off your phone to tick him off.

"i said i love ya and.. y'ignored me!" he moves from where he stood by your head at the armrest to stand in front of the couch, your back still facing him.

"oh, did i?" you shrug, barely acknowledge his movement with a look over your shoulder.

"y..yeah, y'did!" he grumbles, resolve crumbling.

you finally turn to face him, "so? do i have to say it back?" your resolve is crumbling too.. this act is getting hard to keep up.

inosuke's jaw drops, "yeah! f'course you do!" his pout becomes less frustrated and more disappointed, "how am i s'posed to know you love me back if ya don't say it..??"

and that's the final blow to your mask. you sit up hurriedly, standing up to pull him into your arms, "aw.. i'm sorry, ino. of course i love you.. i promise it was just a prank, sorry love."

inosuke melts into your hug until the word prank. he pulls his face away from where it was buried into the crook of your neck. "a prank..? i- i knew that! i just wanted to.. prank you back." he says, knowing that both you and him are aware that it's a poorly strung lie.

you rub his back soothingly, deciding to fuel his ego a bit. "ahh, i see. well.. you really got me then, ino. you had me completely fooled, baby."

zenitsu: poor guy thinks you're gonna leave him 😭

"y/n.. i said i love you." zenitsu looks up from where his head was laid in your lap.

"mhm, i heard." you murmur flatly, eyes on the tv.

his expression twists into concern, "you heard? so.. why didn't you say it back..?"

you shrug, expression still blank. "didn't feel like it, i guess."

zenitsu scrambles off of your lap to sit up on the couch next to you, "you don't love me anymore?"

"i didn't say that," you finally turn to look up at him, schooling your expression.

zenitsu stares at you, wide eyed with worry. "but.. if you don't say it back that means you don't love me.. and if you don't love me that means you don't want to be with me.. and if you don't want to be with me that means you're gonna leave me.. if you leave me..--"

he goes on until you cut him off with a hand on his knee. "zen, it was just a prank. sorry baby."

zenitsu looks down at your hand on his knee before looking up at you, expression confused. "so do you love me?"

"of course i do."

zenitsu lets out a breath that seems to have held all his stress. "oh thank god.." he shifts to pull you into a bone-crushing hug, "don't do that again! what if i had a heart attack??"

"sorry, zen." you grin as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, hand coming to run through his hair. "i love you, zen."

"that's good." he murmurs against your neck, "i love you too."

©beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.