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#giving the impression of frustration / let’s do this
muiitoloko · 2 days
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Sorryy I completely forgot to specify 😭 Harry from Love Actually 🫶🏻 thank you btw 🫶🏻
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Title: Inappropriate
Summary: You were his secretary, he was your boss, and yet, in that moment, none of it mattered
Pairing: Harry (love actually) × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Boss-secretary relationship, masturbation, pervert and smut.
Author's Notes: Well, here we go again! Thanks for throwing this request my way. Gotta admit, I had a similar draft collecting dust in the corners of my brain, but with a totally different character. So, I had to do some serious rewriting. Hopefully, what I've cooked up here hits the spot for you, but fair warning: I might've made Harry a tad bit pervy in this one! 😅 As always, feedback is welcome and highly encouraged!
Anon's request here
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As you stepped into the elevator with Harry, your stomach churned with guilt, the memory of your mistake weighing heavily on your mind. You apologized profusely once again, but Harry ignored it, sighing irritably as he waved off your concerns.
"It's fine, really," he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation, "just forget about it."
But you couldn't forget about it, not when the consequences of your error were staring you in the face. Deep down, you knew it wasn't entirely your fault. You were sure you had booked two hotel rooms for the conference in New York, but somehow, there had been a mix-up, leaving you and Harry stuck with only one room.
As the elevator doors closed behind you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling over you. It was like something out of a cheesy romantic movie or one of those fanfics you read late at night in bed. Except, instead of swooning over your attractive boss, you were stuck in an awkward situation with a man who seemed to see you as nothing more than his secretary.
Harry stood beside you, his tall frame towering over yours, his hooked nose and glasses giving him an air of sophistication that only added to his allure. Despite your best efforts to focus on the task at hand, you couldn't help but steal glances at him when he wasn't looking, marveling at the way his tailored suit accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled jawline.
But as attractive as Harry was, there was a tension between you that made it difficult to enjoy his company. Sometimes, you got the impression that he despised you with how much he avoided talking to you since he hired you. It was like he couldn't stand being in the same room as you, let alone having to share a hotel room for the duration of the conference.
As the elevator ascended to the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the pit of your stomach. You had hoped that the conference in New York would be an opportunity to prove yourself to Harry, to show him that you were capable of more than just fetching his coffee and filing his paperwork.
But now, all you could think about was how to navigate the awkwardness of sharing a hotel room with your boss, a man who seemed to barely tolerate your presence. You dreaded the thought of spending the next few days in such close quarters with him, the tension between you only adding to the discomfort of the situation.
And as the elevator ascended to the designated floor, Harry kept his gaze fixed on the blinking numbers, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He felt a mixture of frustration, attraction, and guilt, all bubbling beneath the surface as he tried to maintain his composure in front of you.
The memory of your mistake and the awkwardness of the situation weighed heavily on Harry's mind, but beneath it all, there was a deeper undercurrent of attraction that he couldn't deny. Despite his best efforts to push it aside, he couldn't shake the magnetic pull he felt towards you, his secretary.
As the elevator doors opened and Harry stepped out into the hallway, pulling his suitcase behind him, he couldn't help but steal a glance at you standing beside him. You looked nervous and guilty, your eyes darting around anxiously as you followed him closely.
Opening the door to the hotel room, Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw the sofa positioned beside the bed. It looked comfortable enough to sleep on, but before he could offer to take the sofa, you spoke up, volunteering to sleep on the couch without hesitation.
Harry hesitated for a moment, torn between his desire to be a gentleman and his own selfish desires. But ultimately, he saw no reason to oppose you if that was what you wanted. With a nod of acquiescence, he stepped aside, allowing you to make yourself comfortable on the couch.
As you sat down, working to take off your heels, Harry found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you. He watched as you exposed your legs in that pencil skirt, the fabric clinging perfectly to your shape, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire coursing through him.
Damn, why did you have to be so beautiful? Harry shook his head, forcing himself to look away before he did something he regretted. "Well, um, I guess we should both try to get some rest from the Jet Lag," he said awkwardly, attempting to break the tension that hung between them.
You nodded in agreement, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Harry cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "I'll, uh, take a shower before bed," he stated, his tone a little more confident now, "and then you can have your turn after me."
You nodded again, offering him a small smile. "Sounds like a plan," you said, your voice tinged with relief.
With that, Harry retreated into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief. Alone at last, he leaned against the cool tile, his mind swimming with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
As the hot water cascaded over him, Harry couldn't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way about you, his secretary, but try as he might, he couldn't deny the attraction that burned within him.
With a frustrated growl, Harry shook his head, determined to push aside his desires and focus on the task at hand. But deep down, he knew that the night ahead would be anything but restful, as he struggled to resist the pull of temptation that threatened to consume him.
As Harry emerged from the bathroom, clad in comfortable pajamas, he found you waiting patiently outside, ready to take your turn. You exchanged a brief nod before you disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Harry alone in the dimly lit hotel room.
With a tired sigh, Harry made his way to the bed, feeling the weight of jet lag settling heavily on his shoulders. He crawled beneath the covers, sinking into the plush mattress with a grateful sigh. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, the bed felt like a sanctuary after a long day of travel.
As Harry drifted off to sleep, his mind still swirling with thoughts of you, he found himself succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber. It didn't take long for exhaustion to claim him, pulling him into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Hours passed in blissful silence, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the air conditioning. And then, slowly, you emerged from the bathroom, your eyes heavy with sleep as you made your way to the sofa.
But as you settled down on the beautiful but uncomfortable sofa, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of regret that gnawed at the back of your mind. You cursed yourself for offering to sleep on the couch, knowing now how much you would come to regret it.
As you tossed and turned, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, you couldn't help but envy Harry, sleeping soundly in the bed just a few feet away. It wasn't fair that he got to enjoy the comfort of the mattress while you were stuck on the sofa, feeling every lump and bump beneath you.
You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to the uncomfortable reality of the situation. Life wasn't like the movies, you realized, and sometimes you just had to make the best of a bad situation.
With a weary sigh, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, the gentle rhythm of your breathing gradually slowing as exhaustion claimed you. Hours passed in blissful silence, the darkness of night enveloping the room in a peaceful embrace.
But then, slowly, you began to stir, your dreams giving way to the hazy fog of consciousness. As you blinked sleepily, trying to make sense of your surroundings, you were surprised to find yourself lying in bed, the soft warmth of the covers cocooning you in comfort.
Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, trying to piece together how you had ended up in the bed. Your gaze landed on Harry's sleeping form beside you, his features softened by slumber, and you hesitated, unsure of what to do next.
With a hesitant hand, you reached out and lightly poked his shoulder, calling his name in a soft whisper. Harry grumbled sleepily, his baritone voice thick with drowsiness as he questioned what was wrong.
You furrowed your brow, your confusion deepening as you struggled to comprehend the situation. "Harry, how did I end up in the bed?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
Harry sighed tiredly, turning to face you with a sleepy gaze. "You were tossing and turning on the sofa," he explained, his voice a low murmur, "and I thought you'd be more comfortable here. It's a king-size bed, plenty of room for both of us."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, the intimacy of the situation not lost on you. This was highly inappropriate, you realized, and yet, there was a strange comfort in being nestled beside him, sharing the warmth of the bed.
With a grateful nod, you settled back against the pillows, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you closed your eyes and let sleep claim you once more.
The next morning, you awoke to the soft chime of the alarm, the sound jolting you from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you sat up in bed, stretching your limbs as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep.
Harry stirred beside you, his gaze bleary as he reached out to silence the alarm. "Good morning," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Morning," you replied, offering him a small smile. "Thanks for letting me sleep in the bed last night. That was really kind of you."
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze flickering away. "It was no trouble," he muttered, avoiding your eyes. "Besides, it's not like either of us got much sleep anyway."
You nodded in understanding, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "So, what's the plan for today?" you asked, trying to change the subject.
Harry glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, we have breakfast downstairs at 7:30, followed by the first session of the conference at 9:00," he explained, his tone businesslike.
You nodded in agreement, mentally noting the schedule. "Sounds good," you replied, swinging your legs out of bed and reaching for your suitcase.
As you both got ready for the day ahead, the awkwardness of the previous night lingering in the air between you, you couldn't help but wonder what the rest of the conference had in store. But for now, you pushed aside your doubts and uncertainties, focusing instead on the task at hand.
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The rest of the day went smoothly, with you buried in work tasks until lunchtime. However, once you and Harry sat down for lunch, he surprised you by giving you the rest of the day off to explore the city on your own.
Thrilled by the opportunity to discover New York, you eagerly accepted Harry's offer, thanking him profusely before setting off to immerse yourself in the vibrant energy of the city. Harry, on the other hand, opted to stay behind, citing a need for some extra rest after the long flight.
As you navigated the bustling streets of New York, your senses were overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. From the towering skyscrapers to the eclectic street vendors, every corner seemed to offer a new adventure waiting to be discovered.
With Harry's encouragement ringing in your ears, you set off to explore the iconic landmarks and hidden gems of New York. From Central Park to Times Square, you marveled at the city's rich history and vibrant culture, snapping photos and collecting souvenirs along the way.
Meanwhile, Harry returned to the hotel room, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he collapsed onto the plush bed. With a tired sigh, he kicked off his glasses, placing them on the bedside table before burying his face in the soft pillows.
But as he inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of you lingered in the air, filling his senses with an intoxicating mix of desire and frustration. He cursed himself for allowing his thoughts to stray to you, his secretary, when he should be focusing on more important matters.
With a frustrated growl, Harry pushed aside the tempting thoughts that threatened to consume him, reminding himself of the boundaries that he had sworn to uphold. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the memory of your presence beside him, your warmth seeping into the very fabric of the pillows.
Closing his eyes, Harry tried to clear his mind of you, but your smell on the pillows tormented him, that sweet scent that drove him crazy because he couldn't identify it. Was it jasmine? He didn't know, he would only know if he felt it up close, maybe burying his nose in the crook of your neck. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Harry groaned in frustration, feeling the desire stir inside him.
Turning away from the bed, Harry sat down heavily on the edge, unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, cursing himself for allowing his thoughts to wander into dangerous territory. It was just a perfume, he reminded himself, nothing more. He shouldn't get excited; it was inappropriate. You were his secretary, damn it!
As he abandoned the buttons on his shirt and kicked off his shoes, Harry's frustration grew, manifesting in careless actions. Without meaning to, he flung one of his shoes aside, narrowly missing your travel laundry bag on the sofa. With a curse, he watched as the bag fell to the floor, spilling its contents in a messy heap.
"Shit," Harry muttered, scrambling to gather up your belongings and shove them back into the bag. But as he reached for a lacy black bra and matching panties, his hands hesitated mid-air. Was that what you wore last night? The thought sent a jolt of electricity through him, his heart pounding in his chest as he held the delicate lingerie in his hands.
With a shaky breath, Harry swallowed hard, his resolve wavering as temptation beckoned. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, but the allure of your scent was too powerful to resist. Convincing himself that you wouldn't be back anytime soon, he succumbed to his desires, letting curiosity and excitement guide his actions.
Carefully unclasping your bra, Harry's pulse quickened as he held it up, admiring the delicate lace and imagining the softness of your skin against his fingertips. And when he reached for your panties, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through him.
It was inappropriate, he knew, but in that moment, all Harry could think about was the intoxicating thrill of indulging in forbidden desires. With trembling hands, he pressed your panties against his nose, inhaling deeply as he surrendered himself to the heady rush of arousal.
He felt like a fucking pervert, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when the excitement was taking over his mind, blinding him to everything else. With each breath, he drank in your scent, his imagination running wild with fantasies of what could be.
And as Harry held your panties against his nose, inhaling deeply, he felt a surge of desire coursing through him, his cock straining in his pants, begging for release. It had been a long time since he had indulged in such forbidden pleasures, and now, with the opportunity tantalizingly within reach, he found it impossible to resist.
With a shaky breath, Harry rose from the floor, still clutching your underwear in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved with purpose, undoing his belt and pants with trembling fingers. As he stroked himself through his underwear, he couldn't help but imagine you here with him, begging for him, your small hand replacing his big one, your touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.
Harry crawled onto the bed, still clutching your panties in his hand. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. What was he doing? This was wrong on so many levels, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to stop.
With a shaky breath, Harry took off his shirt and underwear, throwing them aside in a careless heap. He lay back on the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping him in comfort as he held your panties against his nose once more.
Closing his eyes, Harry inhaled deeply, letting your scent wash over him like a tidal wave of desire. He caressed his chest with his free hand, tracing lazy circles over his skin as he slowly went down, creating the mood while indulging in the intoxicating aroma of your underwear.
With each breath, Harry's imagination ran wild, conjuring up vivid fantasies of you here with him, your touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole. He imagined you straddling him, your soft curves pressed against his chest as you rode him with fervor, your moans of pleasure echoing in his ears like a sweet symphony.
"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he imagined your pussy wrapped around him, hot and tight, squeezing him with every thrust. He could almost feel the heat of you, the slickness of your arousal coating his cock as you rode him hard and fast, driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
With a shaky breath, Harry pressed the panties against his nose once more, his fingers trembling as he imagined your moans of pleasure, your breathless gasps mingling with his own. "God, I want you," he whispered, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire. "I want to feel you, taste you, fuck you until you're screaming my name."
As Harry continued to indulge in his forbidden fantasies, his arousal grew with each passing moment, his cock throbbing with need as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this, but in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to have you, to possess you, to make you his in every possible way.
And as he lay there, lost in the haze of desire, Harry couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out about his secret fantasies. Would you be disgusted? Shocked? Or would you embrace them, surrendering yourself to the same forbidden desires that consumed him?
With a shaky breath, Harry pushed aside his doubts and uncertainties, focusing instead on the overwhelming need that burned within him. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him, just a few strokes away.
With each stroke of his hand, he imagined you here with him, your body pressed against his as he fucked you senseless, your moans of pleasure driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
"Oh, fuck," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he imagined the taste of you on his lips, the feel of your soft skin beneath his touch. He could almost feel the heat of you, the slickness of your arousal coating his cock as he pounded into you with reckless abandon.
With each thrust of his hips, Harry's arousal grew, his need for release reaching a fever pitch as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He wanted you, needed you, craved you with every fiber of his being, and nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him.
But then, as Harry's fantasies reached their peak, he heard the sound of the door opening and closing, his heart freezing in his chest as he realized that he wasn't alone. With wide eyes, he turned to see you standing there, your shopping bag dropped to the floor with a thud as you took in the sight before you.
For a moment, you both froze, your eyes locked in a silent exchange of shock and disbelief. But then, as reality sank in, you began to apologize profusely, scrambling to find the door handle behind you as you tried to escape the awkwardness of the situation.
But Harry's hand stopped you, his touch firm and commanding as he reached out and closed the door, trapping you between his body and the door. His chest heaved with exertion as he stood before you, his gaze burning with intensity as he held your gaze captive.
"Shh," Harry whispered, his voice low and husky as he silenced your apologies with a single command. "Be quiet."
You obeyed without hesitation, feeling a familiar tightness in your pussy as his dominant tone washed over you, sending a shiver down your spine. But then, as you glanced down, you noticed something in Harry's other hand, something that made your breath catch in your throat. Your panties, the delicate lace fabric clutched tightly in his grasp, evidence of his forbidden desires..
God, he was masturbating with your panties, using them to fuel his fantasies of you, and the realization sent a surge of arousal coursing through you. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight before you, mesmerized by the raw desire that burned within him.
With a shaky breath, Harry stepped closer, his body mere inches from yours as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. "You shouldn't have come in without knocking," he murmured, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire, "but now that you're here, there's no turning back."
You swallowed hard, feeling a flush of heat spreading across your skin as Harry's words washed over you. Despite the guilt and shame that gnawed at the pit of your stomach, you couldn't deny the overwhelming arousal that pulsed through your veins, urging you to surrender to the forbidden temptation that beckoned.
And as Harry pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, his hand tightening around your panties, you knew that there was no going back. You were his now, completely and utterly, bound by the intoxicating allure of your shared desires.
But as Harry broke away from the kiss, his breath ragged and his chest heaving, he kept his eyes closed, almost as if he was ashamed of his own inappropriate behavior. He knew he had crossed a line, indulging in forbidden desires that should have remained buried deep within him. And yet, as he stood there before you, his arousal still burning hot and fierce, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
With a shaky breath, Harry opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and desire. "I... I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion, "I shouldn't have done that. It was completely inappropriate, and I understand if you want to leave. We can pretend it never happened, and I'll keep my distance from now on."
But as you looked up into his face, studying his handsome features and the vulnerability in his eyes, you knew that this was your chance. Your chance to walk away and pretend that none of this had ever happened, or your chance to seize the opportunity that lay before you and indulge in the forbidden temptation that beckoned.
And the choice was obvious.
With a hesitant breath, you reached out, your hand trembling as you tentatively wrapped your fingers around Harry's erect member, feeling its firmness and heat pulsating beneath your touch. Harry groaned at the sensation, his head lowering to watch the movement of your hand as you explored him with newfound curiosity.
As you touched him, slowly discovering what he liked and how he responded to your ministrations, Harry's desire surged to new heights. But it wasn't enough. No, he wanted more. He wanted to feel you, to taste you, to fuck you senseless against that very door.
"God, yes," Harry groaned, his voice a low, guttural rasp of desire as he reached for you, his hands roaming over your body with a primal urgency. "I want you, need you... Fuck, I need to feel you wrapped around me, begging for more."
With a hungry growl, Harry seized you by the hips, pulling you closer to him as he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, exploring every inch of you as he devoured you with reckless abandon.
You moaned into the kiss, your own desire burning brightly as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating allure of Harry's touch. With each passing moment, the tension between you grew, the air thick with anticipation as you danced on the edge of ecstasy.
But Harry wasn't content to simply kiss you. No, he wanted more. With a primal growl of need, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you against the door as he devoured you with feverish abandon. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and contour as he worshiped you with single-minded determination.
As you wrapped your legs around him, holding onto his shoulders for support, you melted into the kiss, your lips moving in sync with his as the heat between you intensified. Harry's hand roamed over your body, exploring every curve with eager anticipation. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
But as much as you enjoyed the foreplay, you couldn't wait any longer. Breaking away from the kiss, you looked into Harry's eyes with a hunger that matched his own. "Forget the foreplay," you whispered, your voice thick with desire, "I want you inside me now."
Harry's breath caught in his throat at your words, his desire mirroring your own as he nodded eagerly. "God, yes," he breathed, his voice low and husky with arousal, "I've imagined this moment for so long, dreamed of having you like this."
With a primal growl of need, Harry reached down and pulled aside your panties, his fingers grazing your wetness as he positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped at the sensation, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you braced yourself for what was to come.
And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Harry pushed inside you, his cock stretching you in the most deliciously sinful way. You threw your head back, a guttural moan escaping your lips as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of being filled by him.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he buried himself deep inside you. "I've wanted this for so long, imagined it in my darkest fantasies."
You moaned in response, the sensation of him moving inside you sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the edge of ecstasy, his girth stretching you in all the right ways as you clung to him, lost in a haze of pleasure and desire.
"Harder," you begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you urged him on. "I want to feel all of you, every inch of your cock inside me."
Harry growled in response, his movements becoming more urgent as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. You clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you chased the blissful release that awaited you both.
As Harry continued to thrust into you with abandon, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, you found yourself lost in a haze of pleasure and desire. With each stroke, he filled you completely, his cock stretching you in all the right ways as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you braced yourself against the door.
"Oh, God, Harry," you moaned, your voice thick with desire as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. "Yes, just like that. Harder."
Harry growled in response, his hands roaming over your body with a primal urgency as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. You could feel the heat building between you, the tension reaching a fever pitch as you chased the blissful release that awaited you both.
And then, as you opened your eyes and looked over Harry's shoulder, you saw the reflection of the two of you in the mirror on the other side of the hotel room. The image seemed almost mocking, you fully clothed while Harry was naked, pressing you against the door as he fucked you with abandon.
Your legs were wrapped around him, your blouse partially unbuttoned as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberries that clung to your skin, you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you.
Strawberries. That was the scent that had driven Harry wild with desire, the sweet aroma that had ignited his passion and fueled his forbidden fantasies. And now, as he breathed it in with eager anticipation, he felt a sense of satisfaction wash over he, knowing that he had finally discovered the source of his obsession.
With each thrust of his hips, Harry's arousal grew, his need for release reaching a fever pitch as he surrendered himself to the intoxicating allure of you. He wanted you, needed you, craved you with every fiber of his being, and nothing else mattered but the sweet release that awaited him.
It was so inappropriate, so taboo, and yet, you loved every second of it.
"Fuck, you feel amazing," Harry groaned, his voice thick with desire as he continued to thrust into you with abandon. "You're driving me crazy, you know that?"
You smirked, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him. "Oh, I know," you teased, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I like driving you crazy."
With a hungry growl, Harry pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he devoured you with feverish abandon. You melted into the kiss, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating pleasure that consumed you.
And as Harry continued to fuck you senseless against the door, you knew that this was only the beginning of your forbidden affair. The thrill of the taboo, the excitement of being caught, it all added to the intensity of the moment, fueling your desire with every passing second.
You were his secretary, he was your boss, and yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the overwhelming need that burned between you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy as you surrendered yourself to the forbidden temptation that beckoned.
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thewatercolours · 1 month
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Podfic: "Captive Crown" by GerbilofTriumph
A shabby narration of GerbilofTriumph's excellent King's Quest fanfiction, "Captive Crown," complete with outrageous attempts at accents and enough bloopers to start a drinking game (with um, raisin juice. There are too many goofs for the real stuff.) This wonderful fiction, full of courage, nightmares, and healing, is gratefully recorded and shared with permission of the author, @gerbiloftriumph. Go check out her awesome creative blog.
All seven chapters are available at the link above, but if you just feel like listening to the first chapter while you scroll, voila:
Original text here:
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isfjmel-phleg · 3 days
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🌋
#random personal stuff#personal whining ahead feel free to ignore#it's sinking in that the increase in the displaying of these 'jokes' at work is related to our boss no longer being here#it can't have been a coincidence that the picture in the inbox went back on top the very day we threw her her goodbye party#apparently this man thinks that she was the one who was pushing back against the nonsense?#and maybe she was - I don't know what went on between them#(though I always got the impression that she seemed a bit afraid of him for whatever reason and just let him do whatever most of the time)#but I'm tired of having to put up with this and angry at the situation in general#and I really will go and talk with the VP of Academic Affairs once I can get some advice from my communications major friend#so I can avoid just walking into her office and exploding#(I don't understand this I don't understand why he feels the need to display these images in the office & always about this now-completely-#irrelevant topic and even if it were relevant the 'jokes' are juvenile and mean-spirited and I know he thinks he's doing the Lord's work in#picking the kinds of books that he does but tell me exactly how this garbage is the Lord's work and what he thinks he's accomplishing with#this other than making himself look petty and giving me further cause for frustration because it isn't just the stupid pictures it's the#pervasive attitude behind them that I have had to deal with for years now and I wish I were a different person so I could get right in his#face and tell him that this is unacceptable and expect to be heard and regarded)
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moodr1ng · 10 months
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now i stopped playing pentiment in the middle of act 2 and just checked wiki articles to see what takes place in the rest of the game so maybe im missing some crucial gameplay that wouldve fixed all my issues but. at the risk of being excommunicated (lol) i was rly disappointed w the games structure and thats why i didnt keep going. dgmw i really enjoyed the setting and most of the gameplay and throughout act 1 i was really invested in the story and mystery and investigation, and the game was really cool in a lot of ways. but. in the end. a mystery/investigation story that doesnt have an answer and whoever you accuse will be found guilty and there is no right or wrong just does not work for me and i can only see it as a poor decision.
yes ik that in the end you can uncover the "big bad" mastermind who provoked the murders, but to me putting a twist villain who isnt the actual culprit but who motivated the culprits in the end of the game doesnt make up for, like, the rest of the game? an investigation story where your investigating is meaningless does not make sense to me. was that the point of the game, maybe? to make me feel like nothing i did in the game mattered and i had no power over the setting? i certainly felt that way at times - in act 2, i felt like i had kind of spent the entire first act playing a role (in the rpg sense - as in it definitely felt as if i got to make a lot of choices about who andreas is, what he values, what his morals are) only for that to not matter at all as in the next act i had to play as someone who had made choices that seemed meaninglessly selfish and was in the uncomfortable situation of apologizing in-character for stuff that the character i had previously been playing as, who i thought i was making meaningful choices as, who i had been trying to make as considerate and kind as possible, would not have done.
i think if the point is that i dont actually have control in this game, not over the main character, not over the events, not even over figuring out the truth, then yeah, i had that impression. but thats not really the game i thought i was playing? i thought i was playing a game where my choices mattered and where i was solving a mystery and that was not the case.
idk. maybe i had specific expectations i shouldnt have had, or maybe i just failed to get something about the game, but despite being very beautiful in its graphics and having a lot of fun stuff and interesting characters.. when i finished act 1 i still thought "fuck, i didnt play well enough, i didnt uncover all the clues i shouldve and i didnt get to the correct conclusion, im gonna need to replay this to figure out who the actual culprit was!"... only to find that actually what felt like i had failed this part of the game was the intended way it would go down, and i even had accused the person who imo was the best choice of culprit.. i feel like getting to the end of an investigation arc with what should have been the most satisfying ending for me and instead thinking i had fucked it up and played wrong is a very unsatisfying way to write a mystery and it put me off enough that im not really interested in doing it all over again just so i can finish the game.
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perenlop · 2 months
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i need to find another pmd project to love on relentlessly to make up for that. i almost feel bad hating on a fan project like that
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emmyrosee · 2 months
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Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.
There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.
You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.
He’s losing it.
Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.
“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”
“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”
“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”
“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.
“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”
“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”
The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.
“You look… good.”
Nothing.
“I’ve missed you.”
Nada.
“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”
You scowl at him.
“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”
No dice.
“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.
Okay. That didn’t help his situation.
“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.
“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.
You blink unamused.
Oh.
You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.
“Speak.”
You merely look him up and down and turn your head.
“Talk! Now!”
You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.
“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”
That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”
You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.
He shrugs, “you asked for it.”
And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”
You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.
No dice.
With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”
You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”
He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.
“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.
He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”
“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”
“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”
“HOURS?!” You howl.
He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”
“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”
“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.
You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”
“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“
“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”
This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.
He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”
“….”
“What?”
“That’s it?”
He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”
This, has you softening.
He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”
You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”
He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”
“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.
The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.
But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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All Locked Up
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: your boyfriend losing the key to your handcuffs was bad enough … but him calling Max and Lando to help look for them? You may never be able to show your face in public again
Warnings: 18+ content implied, mentions of accidental bruising, wrongful assumptions of violence
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“Mon amour, have you seen the key to the handcuffs?” Charles calls out from the bathroom.
You strain against the metal cuffs locking your wrists to the headboard. “No, I thought you had it!”
Charles appears in the doorway, eyebrows knitted together. “I could have sworn I left it on the nightstand, but it’s not there.”
You rattle the chain connecting you to the bed. “Well you need to find it, because I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands here.”
“Right, right, I’m sorry,” Charles says, running a hand through his hair. He starts opening drawers and peering under furniture.
You watch him scramble around the room searching fruitlessly. After ten minutes you sigh. “Any luck?”
Charles slumps down on the edge of the bed. “No, it’s gone. I don’t know where it could be.”
You give him a pointed look.
“I know, I know, this is my fault,” Charles says. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure this out.”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts. After a moment, he puts the phone to his ear. “Max? Hi, I need your help with something ...”
You groan quietly. Calling Max for help with this is guaranteed to be embarrassing.
“So here’s the thing,” Charles says into the phone, “Y/N and I were having some fun with handcuffs, and I seem to have misplaced the key ...”
You let your head fall back against the headboard. This day is just getting better and better.
“Yes, she’s still cuffed to the bed,” Charles continues. “I’ve looked everywhere for the key. Can you come over and help me find it?”
Charles looks over at you sheepishly. “Okay, see you soon.”
He hangs up and gives you an apologetic smile. “Max is on his way.”
You sigh. “Wonderful.”
Soon there’s a knock at the front door. Charles jumps up to answer it. You hear Charles and Max’s muffled voices for a minute before they enter the bedroom.
Max takes one look at you handcuffed naked to the bed and immediately spins around. “Whoa, okay, wasn’t expecting that.”
You feel your face flush. “Hi Max.”
“I told you she was still cuffed to the bed,” Charles says with a smirk.
Max keeps his back turned. “Right, you failed to mention she was naked though!"
“It must have slipped my mind,” Charles laughs.
“Can we focus please?” You cut in. “Find the key so I can get out of these cuffs.”
“Yes ma’am,” Max says. He and Charles start searching the room, checking under the bed and nightstands.
After twenty fruitless minutes, Charles collapses on the bed next to you. “It’s hopeless, the key is gone.”
You rattle the cuffs in frustration. “What are we going to do? I can’t stay chained up like this forever.”
Max thinks for a moment. “Maybe Lando can help? He’s good at finding things.”
Charles perks up. “Good idea! I’ll give him a call.”
You close your eyes in dismay as Charles calls Lando. This day just continues to spiral.
Soon Lando arrives, thankfully a little more tactful about the situation than Max. The three of them scour the apartment, but still no sign of the lost key.
You’ve resorted to making small talk with Lando to pass the time. “So how’s your season going so far?”
Lando leans casually against the dresser. “Oh you know, up and down. But I got a few podiums, so it could have been worse.”
You’re impressed. “That’s awesome, congrats!"
“Thanks! I think if I keep consistently scoring points, I might be able to beat Max in the championship this year,” Lando jokes.
“In your dreams!" Max yells from the living room. You and Lando laugh.
But then, Charles and Max return to the bedroom, both empty-handed.
Charles runs a hand through his hair. “I think we have to face it — the key is gone.”
You rattle the handcuffs in frustration. “So what, you’re just going to leave me chained up here forever?”
“Of course not, mon cœur,” Charles says, sitting down beside you. “We’ll figure something out.”
Max nods. “There’s always plan B.”
You look between the three of them hesitantly. “Do I want to know what plan B is?”
Lando grins and holds up a paper clip. “Lock picking. I found a YouTube video.”
Your eyes widen slightly. “That does not seem ideal.”
“Do you have a better option?” Charles asks, taking your hands in his gently. “I promise we’ll be careful. And if the paper clip doesn’t work, we can always call a locksmith.”
You sigh, relenting. “Okay, fine. Just please be gentle, my wrists are already sore.”
The three of them get to work carefully trying to pick the lock on the cuffs with the paper clip. You try to stay still, watching them fiddle with the tiny metal piece.
After several tense minutes, you finally hear a click. The cuff around your left wrist springs open.
“Yes!” Lando cheers. “Told you I could do it.”
Charles kisses your freed wrist gently. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
With a bit more work, they get the other cuff unlocked too. You bring your arms down with a groan of relief, stretching out the sore muscles.
Charles pulls you into a hug. “I’m so sorry about all this. Next time we’ll be more careful.”
You laugh, hugging him back. “It’s okay, it all worked out in the end. But next time let’s stick to something that doesn’t require a key.”
Charles smiles. “Deal.” He turns to Max and Lando. “Thank you both for your help, I really owe you.”
“Anytime,” Lando says. “This was way more exciting than my usual Sunday plans.”
“Now, I believe you gentlemen should give me and my girlfriend some privacy,” Charles says, slipping an arm around your waist.
Max and Lando quickly start heading for the door.
“Have fun you two,” Lando calls over his shoulder. “But maybe put the key somewhere obvious when you decide on an encore!”
You and Charles collapse into laughter as the apartment door closes behind them. Charles pulls you into his lap and kisses you deeply.
“I really am sorry about all this,” he murmurs against your lips.
You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, it made for quite the adventurous morning! But going forward, let’s keep the handcuffs between just the two of us.”
Charles grins. “No complaints here.”
***
Later that evening, you and Charles are having dinner with his family. You’re seated at a table on the patio of a stunning Italian restaurant with a beautiful view of the water. The conversation flows comfortably as you all eat.
After the main course is cleared, you reach for your wine glass. As you lift your arm, the sleeve of your dress slides back, revealing the light bruising circling your wrists.
Pascale notices immediately, her eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Y/N, what happened to your wrists?”
You quickly tug your sleeves down, cheeks flushing. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little accident this morning.”
Lorenzo and Arthur lean in to peer at your wrists curiously. You self-consciously tuck your hands under the table.
“Are you sure it’s nothing?” Pascale asks gently. “Those bruises look quite bad.”
You open your mouth to respond, but Charles chooses that moment to get up from the table. “Excuse me, I’m just going to run to the restroom quickly.”
He squeezes your shoulder as he walks past, oblivious to his family’s concern. You watch him disappear towards the bathrooms, internally screaming.
Pascale reaches across the table to take your hand. “You know you can tell us anything, right? We just want to help.”
You shift awkwardly. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”
Lorenzo frowns. “Did Charles do this to you?” Arthur nods, looking worried.
“What? No!” You say quickly. “Charles would never hurt me.”
Pascale rubs your arm comfortingly. “You don’t have to cover for him, dear. If he’s hurting you-”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that!” You interrupt, face flaming. How do you even begin to explain this?
Just then Charles returns to the table. He immediately senses the tense mood. “Everything okay here?”
“Y/N has some bad bruising on her wrists,” Pascale says seriously. “Do you know anything about that, Charles?”
Charles’ eyes widen almost comically. “Oh, that! No no, it’s not what you think.”
“Can one of you please just explain what happened?” Lorenzo asks in exasperation.
You and Charles share an awkward look. There’s no getting out of this now.
Charles clears his throat. “So, Y/N and I were, uh … having some intimate time this morning. And I may have accidentally … handcuffed her to the bed … and lost the key.”
You cover your flaming face with your hands as Charles’ family stares at you both in stunned silence.
Arthur nearly spits out his drink. “Handcuffs? You kinky bastard.”
“Arthur!” Pascale scolds as Lorenzo tries and fails to hold back laughter.
Charles squeezes your shoulder apologetically. “It was just a silly accident. I promise I didn’t hurt her.”
You peek out from behind your fingers. “I tried to tell you it wasn’t a big deal.”
Pascale pats your hand affectionately. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, dear. But thank you for being honest with us. Even if there are some things I wish I didn’t know about my son.”
Charles kisses your temple. “No more handcuffs though, lesson learned. Right, mon amour?”
You chuckle, relaxing now that the awkwardness has passed. “Right. I think we’ll stick to the fluffy ones from now on.”
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
Steal Your Girl - LN4
Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.
THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER
18+ ONLY
Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall
Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader
5.5k
Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos
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Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.
Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.
But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.
As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.
Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.
He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.
Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.
But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.
But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.
All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.
I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.
The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.
He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.
“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.
As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.
Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.
It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.
Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.
***
It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.
As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.
After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.
But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.
Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.
If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.
These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.
But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.
Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.
It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.
He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.
It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.
During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.
When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.
It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.
Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.
As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.
After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.
The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.
Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.
Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.
But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.
For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.
“Hey,” he shouted over the music.
Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.
Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.
Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.
Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.
"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.
Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.
"I know."
Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.
"And I fucking hate it," he finished.
Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.
And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.
I think you should leave your boyfriend.
But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.
And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.
It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.
As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.
Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.
As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.
Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.
But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.
Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.
Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.
There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.
When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.
She missed it, and she was missed.
By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.
Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?
She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.
In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.
But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.
So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.
On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.
Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.
So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.
This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.
There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.
Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”
Lando gestured for her to go on.
“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”
It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”
***
It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.
And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.
But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.
It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.
And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.
Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.
There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.
If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?
He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.
But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.
After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.
“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.
Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.
They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.
It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.
It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.
Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.
When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.
She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”
“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.
Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.
Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.
It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.
That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.
It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?
But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.
But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.
Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.
Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.
There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”
Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.
***
Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.
But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.
Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.
When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.
Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.
That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.
The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.
In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.
And she loved every second of it.
Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.
"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.
She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.
When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.
He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.
He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.
His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.
Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.
Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.
The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.
Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.
Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.
Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.
"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.
Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.
"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.
Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.
Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.
She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.
When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.
He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.
Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.
He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.
"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.
Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.
Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.
***
Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.
When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.
But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.
His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.
He was going to kill Lando Norris.
2K notes · View notes
frmisnow · 1 month
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✧˖ ?!— BATHROOM OF POSSIBILITIES ˚ 𖦹‧ . - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🥝‧₊ : "is it true that you're a whore ??"
summary. who would've thought that you'd end up fucking your besties socially awkward friend in a bar bathroom??? (only to get caught by your bestie..) anything is possible !
notes. omg i'm so sorry i SUCK at writing threesomes, i won't even try!! i still hope asker is satisfied, much lovee!! ₊˚⊹♡
warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) (002 / getting caught), jk is socially awkward around new ppl (we r lowkey twinning here), cocksucker & whore mentioned, unprotected sex :( (they r reckless and a lil stupid), bathroom sex
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the guy yoongi dragged into the conversation was hot- like really hot.
usually when yoongi introduces you to his other friends, they're either high, drunk or filthy rich that just seemed to be the typa guys yoongi attracted- nonetheless maybe this guy was all of the above.
though weirdly enough his eyes didn't quite settle like ever, he couldn't look you in the eyes even just once as yoongi punches his arm lightly for him to talk.
"hey," he greeted, and the sound that escaped his lips was unexpectedly awkward, almost stumbling over the single syllable.
yoongi chuckled, sensing the surprise on your face. "Don't let the intimidating exterior fool you," he teased, clapping Jungkook on the back. "jungkook here is a little socially awkward. it's kind of adorable, actually, you're gonna love him tho"
"why are you talking about me like i'm not right by your side," jungkook mumbeled quietly in response, his gaze looking to his feet as yoongi smiled at him like he was some forgein never-been-seen before animal species, ignoring his response, "he's exactly like the guys you usually fuck"
"now that just sounds like i blow all your friends off, that's just wrong, yoon-" you snickered, shaking your head, sipping the rest of his drink down in a swift motion as yoongi rolled his eyes, "can you stop drinking my shit? man, i can give your broke ass a few pennies for a drink" he pinched your cheek like he was talking to a child, "let me do chariety work"
"sounds just like something an old man like you'd do," you leaned against the bar casually, "y'know do some chariety and then take your little nap"
yoongi rolled his once again, quite poorly hiding the grin that snuck it's way onto his face, turning full way to jungkook like he forgot of your existence, "see? she's a brat, a menace, a whore- anything under the sun-" he paused like he was thinking of something, "i need a drink"
till turning again, pointing a finger at you, "cause you drank it all up, you'll pay for it sooner or later" slowly walking off not even waiting for an answer as you yelled, "shouldn't have insinuated that i'm a brainless cock sucker"
after he was out of sight, you turned your attention to jungkook who's eyes had been observing every detail of the past conversation, you shook your head in pretend-frustration, emphasizing: "sorry you had to witness that, when it gets over the time of 12pm and he's desperately over his bed time, he just gets so..." you sighed like you were in extreme concern, "cocky"
it was the first time your eyes linked, a small but growing smile on his face, "you're funny, i like you"
"well then it doesn't take much to impress you," you smiled back, thinking for a few seconds. no, you wanted to know more about the dude- at least one of you has to try. "but for real why are you out of all people friends with yoongi?"
he tilted his head up slightly like he was in fact trying to look into his brain to see an answer, "i think he's fun.. at times and i'm pretty sure he's a sweetie at heart"
you nod along, yoongi can be truly insufferable but if he did care when needed and maybe that was just enough- you shook your head trying to not overthink it all of a sudden, switching the topic, "truth or dare"
he raised his eyebrows for a split second, surprised by the abrupt topic switch, "truth"
"weirdest place you've ever had sex?"
he let out a little breathy chuckle, the sound of jungkooks laughter generally pretty, "an ikea bedroom," he played with his lip piercing like he was contemplaiting wheather he should say the next thing, "just a bit of fingering nothing to extreme nonetheless truth or dare?"
"truth"
"you're no fun," he pouted jokingly till adding, "is it true that you're a whore?"
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this was not the position you imagined yourself at the end of the night- no, scratch that, this was not the man you imagined to be with in this position, pressed against the mirror of a dirty bathroom, ass hurting from the bath sink you were seated on, jungkook out of all balls deep into you.
his mouth was pressed against your neck, whispering horny sweet nothings against the bare skin, how much of a cock sucker you actually were, how easy it was for him to get you here, how stupid and solely cock-focused you were.
it was like all his awkwardness wore off the longer he lingered next to you as he pounded into you like he had fucked you tens of times before.
you didn't care if you were completely reckless right now or if the door was open and anyone could fucking walk in at any given moment or where yoongi was - after all maybe jungkook was right: all you could think of right now was his dick deep inside you.
"do you go around and fuck around with all of his friends behind his back or is it just me? mmh, c'mon answer" your tongue felt tied, it was like you had water in your ear, his words not quite audible as you shook your head, not getting it, "made for taking dick, exactly like i thought"
he spread your legs a bit wider, cock scretching your pussy just the right way as you creeked out something about 'needing to cum'
his fingers entertwined in your hair, pulling it just lightly, biting his lips trying to conceal a whimper at the feeling of your pussy tightning round him, "i'll give it to you, wanna have you cum all over my dick"
a high pitched scream aired through the room, so loud like somebody had witnessed a murder - simultaneously it felt like your little bubble of pure utter hornieness had popped, looking to your right to look at a deeply digusted min yoongi, who's hands were already covering his eyes like a defence mechanism.
"it's not what it looks like!"
you both yelled, jungkook pulling out instantly covering you with his shirt that had been thrown onto the ground like fifteen minutes ago, "what do you mean? your dick was in-" he shook his head dramatically and in a repeated fashion while you threw your clothes on as fast as you possibly could, "i don't think we can be friends anymore.. that image uhh-" he did another disgusted expression, covering his mouth like he was still in after-shook.
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it took about ten minutes to calm yoongi down (and a whole lot of promises and gaslight about how he was probably to drunk for his own good) till you both sat him down into a taxi taht was going to safely drive him home.
you stood there outside the bar in the cold air of the night silently for a little while before you both started laughing, what started as a tiny chuckle turned into cackling like maniacs.
eventually you got your shit together, mumbling "well that was awkward" he grinned in response, "right before cumming too- how cruel"
jungkook played with his piercing once again, gaze zoning out shortly till returning to yours, "how about i take you home and you get to finish off just like you deserve?"
1K notes · View notes
carmelcoco · 2 months
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moon notes. 🌕
Disclaimer. these observations do not have to resonate with everyone and everything, all expressed in this post is based on personal experience and research.
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☾ aries moon
Aries moons are extremely protective of their romantic partners, possibly due to the difficulty they have in getting along with just anyone. When they find someone they can love, it feels like a miracle to them. Their tired eyes hold many secrets, yet they also invite others to share their own. Aries moons are deeply committed to their beliefs, prioritizing prayer if they believe in God or disregarding criticism if they're into crystals and spirituality. Being misunderstood frustrates them, especially if they have Virgo personal placements. Moon in Aries individuals often experienced a challenging and powerful childhood, shaping their view of home and family as constant challenges. They need to feel comfortable with their partner before starting a family to avoid repeating the same attitude they received from their parents or relatives. Aries moons live in the present, are passionate, and tend to be impatient. They take criticism to heart and become defensive. They crave excitement and can get bored in peaceful environments. Their needs, desires, and crushes are short-lived and sometimes vague.
☾ taurus moon
Individuals with Taurus moons display distinct traits influenced by their emotional development. Those with undeveloped Taurus moons may struggle with giving and receiving affection until adulthood. Conversely, a developed Taurus moon suggests a nurturing childhood marked by stability and material comfort. Taurus moon individuals exude groundedness and stability, attracting attention and commanding respect effortlessly. They uphold high standards, seeking the good in everyone while grappling with occasional indulgence. Despite their serious initial impression, they are actually fun-loving and seek positive energy. Partners may find them challenging to understand due to mood swings, yet they offer deep emotional healing and encourage appreciation for the ordinary. Taurus moons prioritize building secure and cozy environments, cherishing routines and loyalty. Affectionate and sentimental, they value reliability and comfort above all, making them steadfast companions with strong emotional needs.
☾ gemini moon
Gemini moons possess a natural charm and wit, fostering pleasant company with their curiosity about life. Yet, within their comfort zones, a sense of nervousness and restlessness often accompanies them. These individuals thrive on constant mental stimulation, becoming moody when deprived of it. Childhood experiences shape their communication skills, sometimes marked by instances of feeling mocked or uncomfortable, particularly by siblings. In adulthood, they seek partners who value open dialogue and opinion sharing, craving discussions on diverse topics. While they appear approachable, earning their trust to reveal their fun side can be challenging. Gemini moons enjoy sharing their interests, often trying to influence others' preferences. In matters of love, they can be shy yet straightforward and may send risky texts. Despite attracting attention effortlessly, they remain indifferent to others' desires to emulate them, focusing instead on genuine connections and mental engagement.
☾ cancer moon
People with a Cancer moon are very empathetic and in tune with the emotions of others. They are peaceful and seek familiarity, but can become moody. They hold onto old memories and have a forgiving nature, especially with loved ones. Drama is avoided, and they are focused on justice and fairness. Cancer moons are ambitious and career-oriented, valuing hard work. They desire to build a happy family environment, but can be hindered by their tendency to feel deeply and get hurt easily. Letting go is important for finding love and affection. When drunk, they may have the urge to fight or dance with strangers. Sharing is caring, and balance is sought in all aspects of life.
☾ leo moon
Individuals with Leo moons seek attention and love within their inner circle, exhibiting both a craving for admiration and generosity towards loved ones. Creativity and a sense of justice define this placement, alongside a remarkable capacity for forgiveness, even towards those who have wronged them. They may have experienced embarrassment due to past forgiveness, learning the lesson of discernment. Leo moons prioritize self-love affirmations and enjoy disproving others' opinions. Trust issues develop early, leading to a reluctance to share personal secrets. They are non-competitive except in defense of friends, showing jealousy in childhood friendships. Quick to forgive, they use sympathy to mend relationships, disliking prolonged conflicts. While disliking long conversations, they engage enthusiastically in mysterious topics and detective documentaries, demonstrating a thirst for knowledge. Despite a dislike for subjects like math, they persist in pursuing success, reflecting their determined nature.
☾ virgo moon
Virgo moons are known for getting attached to people very quickly. They admire those who work hard for their dreams and love to party. They seek soul ties with people who match their personality and are drawn to confident individuals who appreciate beauty in everyone. Cooking for loved ones is how they show their love, as they likely paid attention to their mom or grandma while cooking as a child. Virgo moons are ambitious and goal-oriented from a young age, but tend to care less about school as they get older. Despite this, they are kind and make even disagreeable statements sound agreeable. Virgo moons are sensitive and experience emotions mentally, which can lead to moodiness. They have a tendency to focus on details and can struggle to see the bigger picture due to early conditioning. It is important for them to be light-hearted with judgments towards family and future family. They find contentment in the little things and prefer simplicity. Virgo moons need to feel useful and thrive on routine, or else they become self-critical. They are trustworthy and reliable.
☾ libra moon
Libra moons are known for their desire for peace and harmony. They are social and sympathetic individuals who like to have the last word in arguments. Although they strive for the best, this focus can sometimes prevent them from enjoying the moment. They are fond of giving compliments and expect the same in return, but their egos are fragile and can be easily crushed. Libra moons are often taken advantage of due to their people-pleasing nature. They are also known for their strong attachment to their mothers. Libra moons may have been obsessed with their appearance during their teenage years, but as they age, they prioritize personality over looks when choosing a partner. However, one negative trait they possess is complaining even when they chose to help someone. Libra moons are indecisive about trivial things but are confident in important situations. If you are a Libra moon, it is important to work on being honest. Overall, talking to a Libra moon can feel like talking to yourself, but with agreement on every point.
☾ scorpio moon
Scorpio moons are the sweetest people. They are attentive, caring and very focused on making sure others feel good. They can get anxious but it's cute. They respect the privacy of others because they want their privacy respected too. Scorpio moons are great at comforting people, even if they feel awkward about physical comfort. They may have family issues and they love alone time. They love watching horror movies and learning from them. Scorpio moons are clever, perceptive and seek intense emotions and experiences. They value strong relationships and commitment. They live by the motto "all or nothing".
☾ sagittarius moon
Individuals with a Sagittarius moon placement exhibit traits of optimism, cheerfulness, and a love for freedom. They dislike routine and prefer spontaneity, which can lead to conflicts with more structured individuals. Despite their impulsiveness, they are trustworthy and forgiving, often giving second chances to those who betray them to avoid confrontation. They possess a genuine interest in other cultures and exhibit respect towards all races without discrimination. While they may avoid seeking advice from others, they are likely to turn to their mothers for guidance. Sagittarius moons thrive in social settings, preferring nature and the company of many friends over isolation. They are attentive listeners, willing to invest time and effort in understanding others, even when tired. Additionally, they have a diverse taste in music, gradually exploring various genres as they mature. Overall, Sagittarius moons embody positivity, openness, and a deep appreciation for diversity and connection.
☾ capricorn moon
Honestly, Capricorn moons have a hard time understanding their emotions and because of this people usually end up thinking that they are detached or emotionally unavailable. I hope they know that it's okay to admit how you truly feel and if they ever try to communicate with anyone please listen to them cuz they are trying hard. They always seem to need advice in relationships, even for small issues. They romanticize a perfect relationship and search for advice to make it a reality. They tend to force themselves to feel numb about the things that hurt them the most. All this happens because they are unable to understand their emotions and it takes them time to do so. They don't like ranting, but when they do, they pour their hearts out then act like they didn't. They're sensitive individuals who want to be understood, despite some people talking harshly about their detached emotions. Capricorn moons usually have a problematic relationship with their parents and may have experienced abuse growing up. They're reliable and levelheaded people who are well-organized and realistic. Tradition, authority, and security are highly regarded, and they are no risk-takers.
☾ aquarius moon
Aquarius moons are known for their observant nature and love analyzing other people's actions. They tend to feel like they don't fit in with their peers and value independence and individuality. These rebellious individuals don't take criticism well and take pride in their thoughts. Aquarius moons have a lot on their mind and are often thought of as stoners because they find themselves lost in thought often. They may make sex their love language because they want to please others and themselves. These people tend to enjoy aggressive music and may judge others for not liking the same artists as them. Aquarius moons have a great sense of humor and are always interesting to talk to. They tend to get lost in their thoughts and may zone out while telling their life story. Overall, these people are never boring and always leave an impression.
☾ pisces moon
Honestly, I could go on for pages about Pisces moons. They're the family member who knows everything and wants to come off as lovely to strangers. They avoid confrontation and might disagree with something just to be left alone. Pisces moons want to feel spoiled and financially stable. They either think about money, sex, or how depressed they are. They're also prone to falling for fictional characters or celebrities. If a Pisces moon is dating a Virgo sun, it feels like paradise, but they might not admit it. Pisces moons are hardworking to the point of forgetting to eat and might have trouble with spicy food. They romanticize toxicity and have remarkable intuition. They can get lost in the suffering of others and are known for their odd sense of humor.
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this post was created by @carmelcoco on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.
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libraryofgage · 9 months
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I realized Steve is absolutely that kid whose parents put him through piano lessons solely so they could have another way to show off at parties and shit. And then that thought morphed into a little Steddie plot bunny and here we are lol:
Steve doesn't know it's the last time he'll sit at the grand piano, the last time he'll press down its keys and let music fill the empty room before bleeding out into the empty house.
He doesn't know that when his parents next come home, his mother will notice how horribly out of tune the instrument is. He doesn't know that it will be sent off somewhere for repair (his parents won't tell him where, no matter how he asks, and he'll never quite understand why) and lost to him. He doesn't know his parents won't bother buying another one; it was only ever there to impress party guests when Steve sat down and played some Bach. Without those parties, company or otherwise, there's no point in getting another one: both the piano and Steve will have outlived their usefulness.
He doesn't know that he'll be storing away his sheet music, carefully placed into folders and in a waterproof box for safekeeping. He doesn't know that he'll soon become too consumed by high school and dating and monsters to idly write down notes on a staff. He doesn't know that when he's swinging a nail-ridden bat in the future (to destroy monsters, sure, but destruction is destruction, right?) he'll ache with the pain of missing the act of creation as a means of stress relief.
He doesn't know any of that, so Steve sits down at the grand piano with a soft smile, gently trailing his fingers over the keys before lining them up in the Middle C-position. He runs through a few warm-ups, letting muscle memory take him away, so he doesn't have to think. Without another thought, he seamlessly transitions into idly playing, bits and pieces of everything he remembers and songs he's heard blending together.
Mozart's Air morphs into Beethoven's Fur Elise into Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. It doesn't all sound good together, but that's not the point when Steve plays by himself. All that matters is letting his brain shut off for a bit, letting the notes and echoes mingle together to create something new and joyful.
After two hours on the piano, his wrists are aching; he always forgets to hold them in the proper position when he plays alone. But it's a good ache, one that reminds him of the music still dancing around in his brain.
Steve takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, feeling the last of his tension dissipate. He lets his hands linger on the piano for a little longer before standing and leaving the room, tragically unaware of his imminent and unavoidable loss.
--------
Steve is sprawled across an old couch in Gareth's garage, reading Eddie's well-loved copy of Lord of the Rings. He'd promised to at least give it a go, and he had to admit he was looking forward to finally understanding some of the references Hellfire Club and the kids make. His progress is slow, but he's almost halfway through after two weeks of work. Reading while Corroded Coffin practices helps; the background noise of their music is perfect, letting him ignore all other sounds and focus.
Of course, that's provided they actually play continuously instead of starting the same song over and over only for Eddie to stop them halfway through. When it happens for the sixth time, Eddie growls in frustration, tugging harshly at a lock of hair. "It still sounds wrong!" he cries, dropping into a crouch while cradling his guitar close.
"Stopping us halfway through isn't helping," Gareth points out, idly twirling a drumstick as he watches Eddie's lament.
"Do you know what's wrong yet?" Asher asks.
Steve can longer focus on Lord of the Rings. Instead, he places the book on his chest and looks at the band to watch how this plays out. Eddie scowls and looks up at Asher. "Unfortunately, Ashy Baby, no."
Jeff, meanwhile, has locked eyes with Steve. And because Jeff knows the perfect way to get Eddie off their asses is to get him on Steve's instead, he says, "Why don't you ask Harrington what he thinks?"
Eddie whips around to look at Steve, eyes wide and hopeful. He doesn't even bother standing from his crouch, instead waddling his way over to Steve and testing his ability to hold back laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight. "Stevie, baby, sweetheart, lover boy, please tell me that wonderful brain of yours has an idea so your favorite boyfriend can finish this rocking song."
"You're my only boyfriend."
"Which automatically makes me your favorite," Eddie points out, grinning as he leans closer. With Steve still laying down, Eddie's the perfect height in his crouch to kiss him. He lingers for a few seconds before pulling away, and Steve knows his own smile matches the dopiness of Eddie's.
"Have you considered adding a piano?" Steve asks.
"None of us know how to play," Asher says, and Steve would look at him if Eddie's face and hair and shoulders and everything weren't filling his entire line of sight.
Without thinking, Steve hums and says, "I do."
"Do what?" Eddie asks.
"Know how to play piano."
There's a silence that follows his sentence, one that makes Steve's stomach lurch as he wonders if he's maybe fucked up the shaky peace and friendship he's finally managed to build with the other members of Corroded Coffin. He doesn't know how his words might have done it, but he's scrambling to somehow take them back when Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth, the bands of his rings pressing against Steve's lips.
"Gareth, you still got that keyboard?" he asks, keeping his eyes locked on Steve. There's a light dancing in them like he's just discovered magic is real, like Steve has amazed him beyond imagination.
With a grunt, Gareth gets up from his drums and steps into his house. The rest of them stay in silence while waiting, Eddie refusing to remove his hand no matter how much Steve licks his palm. When he finally gives up and just glares at Eddie, his boyfriend grins brightly back.
"It's a little dusty, but it'll work fine," Gareth says when he comes back, and Eddie finally moves his hand and body, allowing Steve to see Gareth setting up a keyboard a few feet away from his drums.
"Okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, taking the book from Steve and carefully setting it aside before pulling him off the couch, "you've heard the song enough. Play what's missing."
Steve hesitates before walking over to the keyboard. Eddie sticks to him like a shadow, sliding his arms around Steve from behind once he's standing in front of the white and black keys. An odd nervousness churns in Steve, tugging at his spine and making his palms clammy, but he knows it would be much worse without Eddie there. If he had to play in front of the band without feeling like anyone was on his side, he'd probably just throw up instead.
"It, uh, it's been a while," he says quietly, easily falling into the muscle memory of tracing the keys and finding Middle C and dancing his fingers through warm-ups despite his words.
Eddie squeezes him tighter as Jeff asks, "Since you've played? Why?"
Memories of his grand piano rise in Steve unbidden, overwhelming him in a rush of longing for the instrument itself and the relaxation of playing. "My parents paid for lessons and had me play at company parties. They, uh, sent it off to be tuned, but it got damaged, and they didn't get another one."
"That sucks, Stevie," Eddie murmurs, soft and reassuring and Steve suddenly feels far more confident.
He looks up at Jeff. "Can you start playing again?" he asks, flashing a grateful smile when Jeff nods and starts strumming the song's opening notes.
Steve listens closely, breathing in the tune he's heard so many times and letting it take hold. He doesn't allow himself to actually think, letting Jeff's guitar and Eddie's arms and hair and scent drown out everything else. Before he knows it, he's playing a hesitant tune that grows with confidence as he follows the song laid out before him. He's always a measure behind, chasing the guitar's echoing notes as they fade.
He and Jeff make it through the whole song without Eddie telling them to stop. When the final notes of guitar and piano echo together, the latter still chasing the former even at the end, Steve is shaking with excitement and anxiety and grief and joy.
He lets out a slow breath, feeling tension he didn't even realize had lingered for so long finally draining from his shoulders and dissipating. Steve can also feel Eddie's face pressed against his neck, a smile searing into his skin as Eddie squeezes him even tighter.
"I love you so fucking much, Stevie, that's exactly what was missing," Eddie says, his words the only warning he gives before pulling Steve away from the keyboard and off his feet and spinning him around. His surprised yelp quickly morphs into laughter that still lingers even after Eddie has set him down again.
Gareth and Jeff and Asher have already started discussing how the other parts of the song might change with the addition of a keyboard, but Steve is too busy turning in Eddie's arms and kissing his smile away to pay them any mind. He can worry about inevitably being roped into the band's practices later, after he and Eddie are breathless and flushed and smiling bright.
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papercorgiworld · 3 months
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No girls, no fights, no smokes
The things Mattheo Riddle does for love
This is like Theo’s ‘Tutoring first years’ a request based on the scenarios from Pansy’s Interrogation.
If you want a little more context, you can read Pansy’s interrogation, but it’s not a must.
No warnings except maybe foul language, but mostly just fluff and a bit of angst.
Picture source: https://pin.it/4r1PsBsvn
Not proofread. Feedback is as always very welcome. Happy readings, my dears!
“Slughorn is too lenient with him, because Riddle suddenly decided to show up to class, he gets an assignment to improve his grade. Ridiculous.” Hermoine says and Ron raises his eyebrows. “Slytherin privileges.” Harry joins his friends in their judging. “Not just that, Slughorn is making the same mistake he made when he trusted his father and told him about the horcruxes instead of sending him straight to Azkaban.” The three of them are startled to hear Mattheo’s voice from behind them. “You want to say that to my face, Potter!” Harry curses himself, he really wasn’t looking for a fight.
The trio turns around to face Mattheo, but they all keep their mouths shut and surprisingly so does Mattheo. The rage in his eyes is undeniable, but he simply walks by giving the trio only a quick death glare. When the trio is sure Mattheo is out of earsight Ron is the first to speak up. “Odd.” Hermoine shakes her head. “Not as much as you would think.” Harry and Ron give their friend a questioning look. “I don’t know why but he’s been on his best behavior for the past weeks. When was the last time he punched or hexed someone?” No one can immediately come up with an answer, proving Hermoine’s point.
***
“Matt, that’s my jacket.” Theo drily states thinking Mattheo mistakenly took his, while Mattheo searches every pocket of Theo’s jacket. “I know, I’m stealing your cigarettes.” Mattheo mutters with clear frustration in his voice. “You lose your own?” Theo asks as he takes his cigarettes off the nightstand to offer one to Mattheo. “No, I quit a month ago, remember.” Theo thinks for a moment, eyebrows knit together. “I honestly thought that was a joke.” Mattheo just flings Theodore an agitated glare. “Look, Matt, you can’t quit smoking, fighting and fucking at the same time.” Mattheo doesn’t say a word and lights the cigarette, just as Enzo enters the room. “No smoking inside!” “Say that one more time and you’ll be the first I punch in two months.” Enzo stops in his tracks at Mattheo’s ice cold voice and looks over at Theo with raised eyebrows.
“So, if I’m correct, no sex or blowjobs for three months, no fights for two months and almost one month of no smoking.” Mattheo lets himself fall on his bed. “Theodore?” Mattheo asks calmly, making both Enzo and Theo hold their breath. “Shut up.” Enzo can’t help but laugh as Theo rolls his eyes. “Pansy and Blaise were right the other day weren’t they? You’re doing this to impress (y/n).” Mattheo forces his eyes shut. He can barely admit it to himself, leave alone to his friends, but it is true. He so desperately needs you to like him. You are always nice to him, but you rarely ever approach him and honestly he can’t blame you.
***
Transfigurations, that’s where Mattheo realized that you weren’t just nice on the eyes. Three months ago Mcgonagoll had assigned everyone new seats and Mattheo had ended up next to you. Suddenly you weren’t just a kind stranger anymore, you became the girl that he can so easily talk to and laugh with.
Mattheo smiles when he sees you’re the first in the classroom. “Eager to score points with professor Mcgonagoll.” You look up and instantly a little blush creeps up your face. “Apparently, I’m not the only one.” Mattheo avoids your eyes, but takes his seat next to you. “I’m not early for Mcgonagoll, trust me princess.” You stare at your book and press your lips into a line in an attempt to not look like a total love struck idiot. Mattheo glances over at you while reaching for his books. When he notices your cheeks redden his heart fills with joy.
A few more students enter the classroom, forcing you both out of your love bubble. You watch him out of the corner of your eyes, while you gather enough courage to talk to him about what you saw yesterday. You lean closer to him so you can talk without being overheard and Mattheo turns towards you. “I’m sorry about what Harry said yesterday. He’s an idiot sometimes.” Mattheo keeps his eyes focussed on you, but it takes all his effort to not get angry again especially now that he knows you heard what Harry said. “I want you to know that despite that they’re my friends, I really don’t think like they do.” You slowly move your hand to lay on top of his arm as a way of showing him you care and aren’t afraid.
Mattheo searches for words, but all his mind can think of is how badly he wants your arms around him and not just your hand on his arm. When he finally opens his mouth Mcgonagoll walks in and you pull your hand back and focus on her. Mattheo adores you quietly before quickly brushing his fingers against yours. You turn to look at him and he leans in. “I know you don’t judge like they do. Maybe you should hang out more with me, could be fun?” His sweet whisper and genuine smile have your cheeks redden again. You smile and nod, thus silently agreeing that you should most definitely hang out more with him.
You spent the afternoon studying with Mattheo and right before dinner you even spent some time with his friends. It made it obvious that there was something blooming between you two and when you finally said your goodbyes you walked away the happiest girl at Hogwarts, unable to hide that happy glow around you.
***
After you spent yesterday afternoon together, Mattheo hadn’t been able to talk to you. It was like your friends were purposely keeping you away from him or maybe you didn’t like spending time with him. Either way Mattheo’s mind was working on every possible worst case scenario. Part of him wanted to stop pursuing you, because getting attached and then losing you would be worse. Maybe that thought is why he couldn’t keep his cool this time. “Everyone knows his dad’s evil and insane, but I mean his mum must’ve been absolutely mental.” Mattheo clenches his jaw but decides to turn around and follow his friends to the great hall. “Why else would the whore fuck someone like Voldemort.” At those words Mattheo snaps, dropping his bag and taking a few long strides to tackle the asshole who was talking. “Didn’t you hear that you need to keep your mouth shut, ‘cause their son is equally insane.” His fist hits the guy right in the face, causing his nose to start bleeding. The second punch doesn’t come in as hard since Blaise already has a hold on Mattheo.
When Blaise puts some distance between Mattheo and the other guy, Mattheo takes a breath and looks away from the douchebag. Mattheo’s heart breaks when his eyes land on your horrified face. No need to worry about losing her anymore. You just lost her, well done. You watch his figure disappear in one of the hallways and make your way to the great hall for lunch. You feel miserable for not being with him. Even worse, you can’t spot him anywhere in the great hall. During transfigurations the chair next to you stays empty and it’s almost impossible for you to pay attention, but you try your best to make notes with the intention of giving them to Mattheo later.
No need to worry about losing her. You’ve already lost her, well done.
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***
The knock at the door of Mattheo’s dorm startles him mainly because he doesn’t hang out with the kind of people that knock. I’m either going to punch, smoke or fuck the idiot that’s come to bother me. He opens the door to see your flustered face, making him drop his attitude. “I first thought you were in the infirmary, but I’m glad to see you’re alright.” Mattheo nods still shocked to find you at his door. “You came to check on me?” For a moment you feel a bit like an obsessed person, showing up at his dorm without invitation, but then you remember your notes. “I also brought you these.” Mattheo laughs a moment and you look confused. “That’s sweet, thanks.” You feel awkward, but Mattheo notices. He clears his throat and opens the door a little more. “I’m really grateful for these, I just- my mind wasn’t thinking about class at all.” He signals you to come inside and you carefully take a few steps. “I honestly didn’t expect to ever see you outside of class again.” Mattheo admits, making your eyebrows knit together as you shake your head expressing confusion.
“The fight, earlier, I know you hate it, me.” You take a step towards Mattheo when you sense the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t like it when you fight, but I do get that some people really deserve to get punched.” Mattheo stares at you trying to figure you out, but failing miserably. “I remember your face from a few months ago when I was fighting, I’ll never forget the disgust in your eyes and today again you looked horrified.” A soft chuckle escapes you as you feel the embarrassment boil up about what you’re going to confess. “I probably made that face, because I hate to see your pretty face all beat up. That’s why I was so relieved that you didn’t get hurt today.” At a terribly slow rate a bright cheeky smile creeps up on Mattheo’s face. You can’t help but feel like you’re dying of embarrassment as his face lights up at your confession. I’m such a love struck loser with my notes and petty excuses. He totally knows I’m in love with him. This is so embarrassing. You get pulled out of your train of thoughts when Mattheo’s hand reaches for the back of your head pulling you into an intense and loving kiss.
When he realises you really like him.
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osachiyo · 3 months
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𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dazai, chuuya, Fyodor, nikolai, oda
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˚➶ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fem!reader, sfw content, so much fluff, children, nikolai is actually a good father in this i swear, swearing in chuuya's, best viewed in dark mode
˚➶ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — wdym do i have baby fever why would u even ask that? also im begging for some fluffy asks </3 not proofread
𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 . . . just some cute little scenarios with daddy!bsd men <3
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dazai stared at his 2 month old baby girl sleeping in her crib, drooling on the little pink teddy bear you two had bought for her. it was almost 3 am — the time she'd wake up every single night and start crying for milk, effectively ruining both of your sleep. he knew you were tired, you needed rest — but you couldn't just leave your baby crying all night. that's exactly why he offered to do it for you, waking up exactly at 2:30 am, just to watch his baby sleep — waiting patiently for her to stir awake all while admiring his baby's cuteness.
she's got your nose — he thought while smiling fondly, tracing a slim finger over her chubby little cheeks before gently poking her nose, making a little 'boop!' noise while doing so. she stirred a little from the contact, her face scrunched up all cutely as she slowly woke from her slumber. "morning, sweet girl," dazai whispered, gently picking her up from the crib and cradling her — shushing her little cries. at least she isn't going full crier mode — he thought to himself, relieved that he managed to calm her down.
"let's not wake up your mommy, okay hun?" he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head — a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched her make grabby little hands to the formula filled baby bottle in his hand.
"oh you want this?" he dangled the bottle in front of her eager face — her eyes lighting up as she babbled random words to her daddy, translating to "yes please!"
"sure, baby — buuuut! — you have to give daddy a kiss first," he grinned, moving his awful bed-head out of his face and revealing his cheek to her, ready for a kiss from his tiny princess. and as if she could actually understand him, she placed a kiss on his cheek, though it was mostly her trying to eat his cheek instead, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? at least that's what her father thought.
you slept like a baby that night — but you did find dazai in the baby room in the morning, sound asleep on the carpeted floor with his little bundle of joy in his arms
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chuuya knew you needed a break from your mommy duties — like everyone does once in a while. so like the wonderful and caring husband he was, he bought you a ticket to bali — insisting that he would be fine. after all, how hard could taking care of a toddler be?
"fuckin' hell.." chuuya grumbled, gloved fingers through his ginger locks as he clicked his tongue. he was going through some very annoying paperwork that his subordinates apparently couldn't do right — which was so damn frustrating. and he had to keep an eye on his sweet 3 year old daughter, who was playing on the floor, mumbling a random children's song while doing so. chuuya didn't know how in the actual hell you managed to multitask like this — doing all the housework while taking care of the kid? it genuinely impressed him.
"—ak!" his train of throught suddenly got cut off, as he heard his daughter. he looked over at the small child, who was happily waving her doll around. "did you say something, honey?" he questioned, walking over to kneel beside her as he eyed the heap of toys — mayybe you were right, he thought, he did buy her too many toys.
the toddler looked at her daddy, the beaming smile on her chubby face made him want to just scoop her up in his arms and stay like that for hours.
"fak!" she squealed, slamming the poor doll on the floor — as if it were the most exciting word she'd ever heard. chuuya's face went pale — sweat already beading at his temples as he imagined your reaction to your daughter saying the forbidden word.
"nonono don't say that — that's a bad word, sweetheart," chuuya scooped her up before placing her on his lap, as she tilted her head, staring at him in confusion, "..fak?"
"shit — you've got to be kiddin' me.."
"shit?"
"NO — oh god damn it!"
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"yes, good girl — put it right there," fyodor pointed at the chess board. the toddler only stared at him in confusion, looking at the chess piece in her stubby hand before looking back at her father. "come on, you can do it," your husband encouraged, never getting impatient.
"i don't think it's possible for a 4 year old to play chess, fedya dear.." you let out a chuckle, taking in the amusing sight of your husband teaching his precious daughter how to play chess. "anything is possible, my love," fyodor replied, trying to stop his daughter from putting the chess piece in her mouth. "riiight... her trying to eat the pieces definitely doesn't help your case, darling," you laughed, rolling your eyes at how silly your beloved could be at times, no matter how many people see him as a genius.
"she's learning," he retaliated, taking the piece away from her before dangling her favourite candy in front of her cute little face — "if you can put this right here, i'll give you the candy, okay? easy enough, right?"
the toddler only pouted, bottom lip jutting out as she whined — "but daddy, you can do it yourself!" fyodor sighed, apparently, she was having trouble understanding why she should do it when he could easily do it himself.
“darling, that’s not the point — the point is that i’m trying to play a game with you and it’s your turn.” the young girl’s frown only deepened, face scrunching up in frustration while she sulked in her seat.
“i think she deserves the candy, don't you, hun?” you smiled, turning over to your daughter — who only nodded in return. “she’ll get her candy after she puts the piece in the correct spot.” your husband clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval at you giving in so easily. “she’s just a child, honey..” you sighed, cheek resting on your palm.
fyodor was about to give another witty reply when you both heard a small sniffle — both of you looking over to the little girl; her lips were wobbling, tears running down her soft cheeks. “oh no no, sweetheart — c’mere,” it’s like he did a total 180, previously annoyed features now softened and evident guilt painting his face. your daughter only seemed to cry harder at that, snot running down her nose as she ran to fyodor, burying her face in his chest. “there, there..” he sighed, frowning at the way her body shook with each hiccup. “told you,” you grumbled, stifling a laugh at seeing fyodor panicking and handing her a good amount of the sweet treats — only for her to stop crying the moment she got what she wanted, a mischievously cute grin gracing her face. like father like daughter — you suppose.
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"daddyyyy! — stay still!" the little girl whined, eyebrows furrowing as she combed through nikolai's snowy hair. "you've been brushing my hair for 30 minutes now, princesssss!" he whined back, matching her childish tone. "it needs to be perfect," his precious daughter sighed out loud, acting as if she was stressed — perhaps she learnt that from you, he snickered at the thought.
"alright, alright.." he sighed, straightening his posture — smiling as he felt tiny hands comb through his white locks. at least she's gentle with it — he practically shuddered at the thought of his precious hair being yanked and pulled by a toddler.
"daddy, you need to close your eyes," she huffed, running over to grab her little box of accessories and clips, before returning back to her dad. "whatever the princess wants, i suppose.." he chuckled, closing his eyes — feeling her decorating his hair with whichever accessory she desired. he could never really say no to her.
after a few more moments of waiting, she was finally done — excitedly telling nikolai to open his eyes. "tadaaaa!" she giggled, throwing her arms up in the air as he opened his eyes, a cheshire smile immediately gracing his lips as he stared at his reflection — hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, as various colours of heart shaped clips decorated his head. "you did such a good job, dove!" he grinned, scooping her tiny frame up in his huge arms, as she squealed. he threw her up into the air — making her squeal even louder before easily catching her, both of them howling with laughter.
moments like this makes him glad he didn't leave to get the milk.
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"how does your mom even do this every morning.." oda sighed, trying his best to figure out how in the actual hell to do his daughter's hair. and the worst part? he only had 10 minutes until the school bus arrived. hell, he already spent the last 20 minutes brushing and detangling her hair!
"daddy, there's not much time left!" the 7 year old complained — watching her dad struggle with her hair through the mirror. he was debating on whether to call you for help, which he quickly decided against. she's on vacation, she should enjoy it thoroughly without any worry — he thought to himself, clicking his tongue as he messed up what was supposed to be a simple pigtail once again.
"daddy.. there's only two minutes left!" the girl whined once again, kicking her legs as she grew more and more impatient — while her hair situation grew worse and worse. "um, alright sweetheart — how about you just go to school with your hair down?" oda sweat dropped, trying to convince his daughter to the best of his ability.
"you know i can't do thaatt!" she groaned, giving him a pout. "right — well how about —"
the honking of the bus outside cut him off, as the little girl only sighed.
he somehow convinced your daughter to not snitch to you about her going to school with very crooked pigtails. buuut, he did take some hair lessons from you after you came back.
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writingouthere · 3 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!
cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression
Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.
"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.
"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.
"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.
"What's going on, you seem off today?"
You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.
"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.
Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.
"Why was the apartment so awful?"
You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"
"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."
"Creep, how?"
You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.
"It doesn't matter-
"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"
"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.
It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.
"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.
"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"
"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."
Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.
"What about Bug?"
"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."
This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.
"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"
"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"
You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------
The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.
"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.
"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."
Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.
"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.
"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"
The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.
"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.
When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.
"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."
"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.
"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."
He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.
"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.
He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.
A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.
He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.
"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.
"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"
"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."
"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."
"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"
Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.
"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."
Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.
"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.
"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."
"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.
"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."
"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.
"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.
It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.
"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.
While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.
When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.
Like he would ever let you leave this.
also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.
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sukunasteeth · 28 days
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Wrestle Me
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Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.
Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.
The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.
Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.
You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.
The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.
An idea comes to mind.
Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.
"Wrestle me." You beam at him.
It was somewhat of a joke.
Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.
 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.
Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.
His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.
"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.
You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.
You love when he’s in a playful mood.
"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.
Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."
You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.
"Let's find out."  
~
Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.
Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.
The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 
"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."
"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.
Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.
He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.
"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 
"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 
It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 
"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"
"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."
One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."
That did it.
Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.
No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.
Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.
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missyandthemisfits · 2 months
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Tokyo Revengers-Do They Believe In Sex Before Marriage?
18+ WARNING, NSFW
Mikey – Pfft, do you even have to ask? He’s got NO qualms about sneaking (it’s not sneaky at all) you off from the group in-between meetings and giving you the most satisfying of quickies, needy and demanding as he pushes you up against the alleyway wall. Quite the exhibitionist this one. No, the real challenge will be convincing Mikey that marriage is something worth having  ‘cause let’s face it, he ain’t buying what they’re selling. 
Draken – Honestly, he would much MUCH rather be wed before he’s plowing his impressive length down into your slick, but alas, he’s a man with needs and desires. That said, if you really wanna wait until marriage, he’s not forcing you to do anything you don’t want. He will, however, ask for other things, to give and to receive them. 
Mitsuya – Oh, he’s a man on a mission to be married with children, I can assure you of that. He probably wants to be married before making his dream of having you a moaning mess of a person beneath him come true. Buuut, he’s all for fooling around beforehand if you are. And if you wanna wait, he’s waiting, no questions asked. #Gentlemengonnagentleman
Hakkai – Baby boy really really wants to wait until marriage, he’s hella embarrassed about even thinking about you in those compromising positions, spread so deliciously for him and only him. But also, he’s incredibly weak willed when it comes to you and your wishes so despite weak protests, he’s not stopping anything. As a religious man though, he will feel guilty about it.  
Baji – He absolutely intends to sleep with you before he pops the question – gotta take the car out for a test drive before you purchase it, right? (Words uttered only to Chifuyu who is sworn nay threatened to secrecy). He fantasizes about being balls deep in you like clockwork and when he finally gets that chance? He’s not giving it up for anything. Feel free to try and stop him. 
Chifuyu – He’s torn, he really is. Has he fantasized about you exposed to him in a mating press? God yes. But does he also think there’s something incredibly and undeniably romantic about waiting until your wedding night? Also a strong yes. Decides he can’t make that type of decision, so whatever you want is what you’ll get, 100%. 
Takemichi – HaHA – let him tell it and ‘I-It’s only natural for a hotblooded young man to want those types of things! Right…?’ Grade A dork. But truth be told, he wants to wait as long as he possibly can (he’s afraid he’ll mess it all up) , he’s really aiming until the marriage thing but knows things just happen, like that one time you were clawing at his jeans on your knees- still fantasizes about that, the horn dog.
Atsushi – He wants to wait. His mother raised him on strong values and he’s not keen on disrespecting you or himself by taking things farther than he, or you, think they should go. Now, will he lap at your most sensitive bits like a dog in heat? Yea, but I mean, that’s not really going all the way, ya know? Gotta love loopholes. 
Nahoya – Maaaan oh man is this boy pervy. Within the first month, he’s got his hands on your ass with that devilish smirk, making all sorts of dirty jokes and disgusting remarks. Wants it and wants it bad. Tries his best to be respectful but has a very hard time stopping at just your sexy mouth, even if he just came. Stop him from going further and he will be frustrated, frowning for once. Doesn’t even know if he fully believes in marriage, he just wants to be inside you as long as you’ll tolerate him – or for as long he can tolerate you. 
Souya – The total and complete opposite of his twin – where Nahoya can be incredibly pushy and demanding, Souya is all light touchs and sweet nothings, asking permission for everything, from hand holding to kissing. In an ideal world, he’s waiting until you’re both married (which he plans on being) to make you his completely. Incredibly honored (and nervous) that you even asked him to pleasure you with his tongue, and what a surprisingly skilled tongue it is. Doesn’t expect more, doesn’t even expect reciprocation, perfectly happy just pleasing you - so when you do palm at his hardened and constrained member, lowering yourself to your knees well… who is he to deny you? Not like he could say ‘No’ if he tried. 
Kazutora – Poor dear is traumatized – doesn’t honestly know whether or not he believes in marriage and it shows in the way he stops everything at the question. He can’t promise you he’ll ever come to a real conclusion, but what he can promise you is that he will be by your side for as long as you’ll have him, a lifelong partner. His kiss goes from sweet to hungry in a matter of seconds though, and he’s on top of you before you know it, eyes begging for you to help him to his release. 
Hanma – Never even considers the idea of marriage before you, too preoccupied with curing his boredom to really care either way. However, he finds himself considering the notion, genuinely excited about it and suddenly, he can’t wait. He’s not looking for anyone else once he’s locked in, sincerely – but getting him to stop his long fingers from slowly moving in and out of you was something you always struggled with. Fuck, would you be able to keep your own promise at this point? 
 Taiju – You might be surprised but as someone who devotes himself to his religion, he thinks it’s only right to wait until marriage, almost impatiently waiting, praying, for the day you take his damn near monstrous length like the good slut you are. Until then, he’s more than happy to prep you with his admittedly very large fingers. Good luck! 
Kokonoi – More concerned with whether or not you’re able to have an intellectual conversation with him really, pretty low libido. More than likely, he’ll wait until marriage, it’s not a bother or inconvenience to him in the slightest. More than happy to have your back against his chest, lazily playing with your naughty bits while enjoying a good movie, chin resting on your shoulder. May ask for reciprocation every now and then, but he’s a whiner so that’s fun. 
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