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acey-wacey · 2 months

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Jealous of Their Tsum

Feat. Deuce, Azul, Jade

A/n: In honor of tsumderland 2!!! (though it took me the entire event to write it). Kalim, Rook and Lilia in the future if there is demand

♠️ Deuce Space ♠️

He gets along with his tsum though it's quite the troublemaker sometimes.

It doesn't have the same honor student drive that he does.

Though sometimes it gets into mischief, it's lack of proper inhibitions also make it bolder when it comes to you.

Deuce has had a crush on you for the longest time and never said a word because he was too scared.

His tsum however is not at all scared and has no problem launching into your arms.

You were initially startled by the little plushie that threw itself at you but once you realized it was Deuce's tsum, you giggled and let it bounce up to your shoulders.

It nuzzled the side of your face and you patted it's head affectionately.

Deuce --who had been running after the tsum to keep it from causing too much mayhem -- stopped short when he saw you cuddling with the little creature that looked so much like him.

"You're just a little sweetheart, aren't you?" You cooed at the tsum, squeezing it in your arms and holding it close to your chest.

Deuce couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the affection you showed the tsum.

Why didn't you ever hug him like that? What did Deuce-tsum do to deserve your cuddles?

"You are just so cute," you said as you pinched the tsum's little cheeks. The plushy bounced with happiness. "Almost as cute as the real Deuce!"

Deuce's eyes widened when he heard you.

You thought he was... cute? Cuter than the tsum even?

His jealousy was replaced with swelling pride.

He smiled to himself, knowing you weren't aware of his presence.

Maybe his dreams of confessing weren't so hopeless after all.

...

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

His tsum had mostly been helping out at the Mostro Lounge, being cute and attracting customers.

Azul knew how good the adorable little plush was for business but he never expected to see you drawn to the crowds.

"What brings you to the Lounge on this fine day, dearest prefect?" Azul asked you with his signature charming smile.

"Everyone's been talking about the tsum that's working. He's just so cute!" you responded enthusiastically, looking to where Azul-tsum was filling up a customer's water glass.

Azul's perfect smile faltered for just a second, not long enough for you to notice.

"So even you can be tempted by our most adorable new staff member?"

"Seems so," you shrugged with a smile.

"I'll ensure it is sent to your table then," Azul smiled before turning away.

He secretly scowled at the tsum before walking back to his post.

He didn't hear you mutter "I can think of a more adorable staff member" before he left.

A few minutes later, there was a bit of a commotion in the dining area.

"What's going on?" Azul asked Jade when he saw the franticness buzzing around your table.

"It appears the tsum has attacked a patron," Jade said, though his smile was much too sly for that kind of news.

Azul was much too startled to notice the eel's ulterior motives.

He pushed his way through the crowd to find your table.

"I am terribly sorry about any violent behavior by our resident tsum. If anyone has been attacked in any way, I assure you, you will be reimbursed..."

You interrupted Azul before he could finish.

"Nonsense! I wasn't attacked so much as glomped by this little cutie!"

Azul couldn't tell if he was more startled by the attack accusations or the fact that his tsum was nuzzling itself into your chest. And you were cuddling it back?

Azul found himself becoming increasingly worried that his tsum shared the same feelings he had for you.

What if you discovered that he liked you because of his tsum? You would probably hate him and then he'd never see you again and all because of that stupid ball of stuffing!

First it was going to steal his job, then his crush. Sooner or later, Jade and Floyd would completely replace him with the thing!

Azul collected himself enough to take a deep breath and offer you a hand.

"My deepest apologies for this unprofessionalism. May I offer you a VIP seat while I get everything sorted with our clingy little waiter?"

You smiled and took Azul's hand holding the tsum against your shoulder with the other.

"I'm really not bothered but I'll never say no to a better seat."

While Azul walked you to your new booth, he put on a customer service smile just for you.

"Say, Y/N, you seem to enjoy cuddling with the little tsum quite a bit."

"Can't deny that," you chuckled and squeezed the puffball tighter. It wiggles its stubby arms with joy. "I've grown fond of the little fellow."

Azul's eyes narrowed slyly.

"I have a proposition for you, Y/N. You may cuddle my tsum as much as you like, with a few conditions of course."

"Of course," you repeated with a roll of your eyes.

"I don't even ask much of you," Azul continued as he summoned a contract with his magic. "Just sign on the dotted line and the tsum is practically yours."

You narrowed your eyes at the fine print before chuckling.

"For every cuddle Azul-tsum receives, twice as many must be returned to the original Azul," you read aloud with a smirk on your face.

"A tempting offer, is it not, prefect?"

You smiled and set the tsum down on a nearby table much to its dismay.

Before Azul could react, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Very tempting indeed."

🍄 Jade Leech 🍄

You were walking peacefully back to Ramshackle from your afternoon classes when you tripped over something soft in the road.

You spit the dirt out of your mouth and looked up to see a mini Jade hopping around on the road.

You sighed and stood up, dusting off your uniform.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you, you little schemer?"

The tsum stopped its gleeful hopping to wink at you.

You laughed and squatted down to be roughly eye level with the plush.

"Well don't think you can indebt me to you. I'm a lot bigger than you after all," you said before realizing the irony. "Huh, that's funny, it's usually the other way around with Jade."

You continued on your way home but noticed the tsum still bouncing after you.

"What? Did Jade send you to collect a payment?"

The tsum shook its head, or at least it would have if it had a head. More like it just shook its whole body.

"Do you need something?"

Another shake.

"Are you gonna follow me all the way home?"

An enthusiastic nod.

"Just like the normal Jade. Can never take no for an answer."

You sighed and held out your hands to the tsum.

"Come on, let's get going. I can't have you tracking dirty stub prints all over my shiny nice desecrated wood floors."

The Jade-tsum hopped eagerly into your hands.

Before too long, it started to rain.

You groaned and looked at the little tsum in your hands.

"Guess we gotta make a run for it, eh, Jade-tsum?"

The tsum bounced in excitement.

You held it close to your chest and made a break down the dirt road to your dorm.

By the time you made it back, the tsum was stuck to you like glue.

"Come on, little Jade, I'm all wet and muddy, I need to take a shower!"

The tsum stayed stuck to your shirt no matter how much you tugged at it.

"Guess this is my life now."

After your fourth lap around the dorm, trying to dry off with a plushie attached to you, you got a phone call from the Jade's cell.

"Y/N," you answered tiredly.

"How fortuitous I was able to reach you, prefect," you heard Jade's easily distinguishable voice from the other line. "Would you have happened to see my little lookalike anywhere? I'm afraid it's gotten away from me and it's much too difficult to search in the rain."

"Yeah, actually. It's kind of attached to me."

"Attached, you say?" Jade's voice perked up with interest. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean literally attached. It latched onto me like Velcro and I can't get it off for the life of me which is quite inconvenient."

You heard Jade chuckle.

"That does sound quite characteristic for a version of me," he mused, making you wonder what the implications of that statement were. "I shall be right over to remove it."

About 20 seconds after he hung up, you heard a knock on your door.

"That was quick," you said as you got up to open the door.

Jade was standing in your doorway, soaking wet with a sneaky smile on his lips.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"Oh, I was already on the way."

You laughed as you stepped aside to let Jade in the door. As per his usual polite self, he took off his muddy shoes before following you to the dying room (it's in such poor shape you don't bother calling it a living room).

"Why'd you call ahead if you were already coming?"

"It is polite to give warning of one's arrival, is it not?" Jade cocked his head in fake innocence. "I would never wish to be unexpected."

"Jade Leech, you are always unexpected."

He smiled at you rebuff.

"I shall take that as a compliment," he cleared his throat and turned to you. "Now for the matter of our other unexpected guest."

Jade looked at his tsum double who was still firmly snuggled into your chest.

He bent down to look the tsum in the eye and you didn't quite hear what he said to it but from the way it released it's hold on you and scampered off to the couch, you assumed it was a threat.

"Thanks, Jade," you said exasperatedly though you knew there was going to be a catch later.

"I accept your thanks, prefect, but your payment would be much more appreciated."

You sighed and grabbed your wallet from your pocket.

"If you're going to make me work shifts at the Mostro, I would much rather pay you in cold hard madol."

Jade pushed your hands down and looked at you with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm afraid your little leech has not been removed, prefect, only replaced with a larger one."

You backed up as Jade approached you with a sharp toothy grin. Eventually, he backed you up against the couch and you fell over backwards.

"Poor helpless prefect," Jade tutted, looming over you, his dark silhouette outline by the flickering light of your ancient chandelier. "Who would be able to help you if a slimy eel decided to... latch on?"

Your breath caught in your throat as the wind was knocked out of you by a crushing weight on your body.

You waited for Jade to keep squeezing the life out of you but for some reason it never came.

Instead you felt the nuzzle of a much larger head into your neck.

Once you recovered from the shock, you smiled and began stroking Jade's hair.

He growled under your touch.

"Mine."

...

☕Buy Me A Ko-Fi! ☕

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disneytw #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

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oso-nan · 1 year

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i have a painful pimple on my upper lip that i just popped intrusively and it hurts so bad.

#i need this GONE so i can practice the makeup for my death cosplay.#spooky empire was a fail at first but ill bounce back #and maybe wear contacts too bc my glasses made me look like a doofus last time #also have been fluffing my hair up like CRAZYYY until i get hairspray bc my hair falls so flat #yall im so srs about prepping #i wont get caught crying on the staircase again like i did last con #this is my year

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nctsworld · 9 months

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fever pitch

✩‌ mark x reader | pro baseball player!mark | fluff | smut | 8.4k

SUMMARY | your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

WARNINGS | sexual content (near the end), arm riding (iykyk), breast/nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, piv sex, some drinking // this is 80% fluff-20% smut (with lots of corny writing); there's actually not too much baseball mentioned, but i did a little research on it; however, inaccuracies may be inevitable!

RATING | mature

AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sorry this is so late </3 i hope y'all enjoy! please also check out (and maybe send in some prompts to) @nctpromptmeme!

TAGLIST | @curieouscapt @dearlyminhyung @infnteen

Under the warm, summer sun, you beam as you walk towards your close friend, Chenle, and his dog, Daegal.

Shining back, he nods in hello to you with sunglasses pressed against his face. The teacup Bichon by his side wags its tail and pants happily at the sight of you, but is easily distracted the next second due to the park’s stimulating surroundings.

Dogs running amok, families having picnics, kids chasing each other in circles, friends playing baseball—

Specifically, a group of absolutely stunning men playing, as if a model catalogue exploded onto the field across from you.

But one in particular catches your eye.

Kind eyes shine behind wire-framed glasses, paired with a wide smile. His soft hair bounces with his light jog across the area.

In his fitted white tee, he ends up in one spot and continuously throws the ball into his mitt. The game seems to be on hold as he speaks to a teammate. Absentmindedly, he rolls his arm sleeves up, revealing lean, yet defined muscles.

You silently gasp, struck by the beautiful sight, then gulp at the flexing of his biceps when he continues tossing the ball. His teammate must’ve told him a joke since the attractive figure throws his head back in joy.

And this is the exact moment you go into cardiac arrest because his laugh is the last straw of what you can handle from this man.

Suddenly, the sound of your name shakes you out of your daze and reminds you to breathe.

“Okay, which one of these guys is the one who made you do a full stop in the middle of the grass?” Chenle asks, coming up beside you.

Daegal welcomes you with loving rubs against your leg. You squat to pet her, but your eyes are still honed in on the handsome stranger. The teams seems to be switching now when someone hands the bespectacled man a bat.

Your friend tracks your line of sight and nods, impressed. “Okay, he’s cute. Your distractedness will be excused this time.”

Scoffing, you shove his leg lightly and he giggles in return. After a few more moments of gawking, Chenle wonders, “Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere?”

Standing up, you reply, “Probably comes here often with his friends when you walk Daegal?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I feel like I know him from somewhere else...”

Deciding you should probably drag your attention away and not be a blatant creep, you begin to walk away backwards, heading towards the ice cream cart before the line-up becomes as long as the field.

“Want your usual?”

“Yes, please!”

However, Chenle’s brightness fades instantly, jaw falling and eyes widening. You’re about to turn around to see what caused his change of expression when you hear a piercing—

“WATCH OUT!”

With a throbbing in your head, you wake up, squinting at the blinding rays. Coming into view, the cute guy from before replaces the sun’s spot, staring down at you with concern written all over his face.

“Oh, my God,” he pants. His hands shake in front of him. “I am so, so, so, so sorry.”

You roll your eyes a bit, trying to center your vision. Groaning, you ask, “What happened?”

“I, uh...” The individual’s mouth, slightly open with gritted teeth, pulls to one side as he runs a hand through his hair, “may have batted the ball and it coincidentally went straight for your head.”

Carefully, he helps lift your upper body off the ground. He asks if you’re okay, and you nod. But a grimace comes after, causing the stranger’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe we should get you to the hospital. You might have a concussion.”

All of a sudden, he inches closer and gingerly runs his thumb over the source of the throbbing. It’s likely all in your mind, but you swear the pain lessens from his touch. You tilt your head further, angling into his palm and embracing the comforting gesture.

“I’ll obviously cover all the bills—”

You cut him off with a slow lift of your hand. “No. I’m okay, I’m okay.”

You know you’ll definitely be more than okay if you can steal some more time with his magical touch.

Continuing, you say, “And that’s too much. If anything, you can buy some ice cream for me and my friend.”

Glancing around for Chenle, you find him, crouching like the stranger, but a few feet away. With a raised corner of his mouth, you deduce he’s deliberately giving space for you to interact with Mr. Handsome Baseball Hitter.

Said handsome baseball hitter chuckles. Hearing it tugs at your chest, even harder now that you can experience it up close.

“I’ll buy you a thousand ice creams to make it up to you.” He retreats his hand and you don't hold back pouting from the fleeting contact you already miss. “But seriously, if there’s any long-term side effects, please reach out to me and I’ll pay for any expenses that come your way.”

“How would I know how to reach out to you?”

He rambles the following matter-of-factly, “Well, you can find my manager’s information online, there’s the team’s Twitter account”—he looks up cutely in thought—“and I guess I’ve been kinda active on Instagram—”

You tilt your head in confusion. What is this guy going on about?

“Okay,” you interrupt, “but who are you?”

His face flips through a few emotions in the span of seconds, but they’re unreadable. Finally landing on a grin, he says, “I think what’s more important is: do you know who you are?”

“Yeah, I’m—” And you properly introduce yourself.

“Good,” he says, “so we’re not dealing with amnesia.”

Your cheeks rise at his humour. Saying your name warmly, he adds, “Nice to meet you, I’m Mark.”

He lends out a hand for you to shake and you do so. With help from his knees, he rises upward, aiding you to stand on your feet in the process.

“Mark,” you repeat his name aloud, locking eyes with him, “the baseball batter with the strength of a thousand suns.”

At the odd line, you catch yourself, thinking how the injury must’ve loosened your filter. He laughs at the lengthy label. “You should see me pitch.”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh, nope,” you playfully say. “I’m going to be safe and stay far, far away from that sexy arm.”

Both you and Mark’s eyebrows rise at the remark.

Yep, definitely a loose filter. Maybe you really do have a concussion.

While Mark breaks out into a pleased smile, you snap your eyes shut, wanting to run away. Or disappear, if at all possible. “Strong, strong. I meant strong...”

Avoiding eye contact, you hurry and make way to a now standing Chenle. Trying to leave the embarrassment behind, you grumble, “Chenle, let’s get going.”

Your friend smirks and whispers by your side, “You sure you don’t want to dig your grave even further?” You attempt to elbow him, but he’s too quick and avoids it.

“It was nice meeting you, Mark,” you call out over your shoulder as you walk away. “Thanks for looking out for... my head?”

Cringe falls over, making you pick up your pace. Time to officially stop talking.

Chenle turns away, his body shaking as he releases a snicker into his fist.

“Again, I’m really, really sorry!” Mark apologizes in a shout. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and also recognize his voice as the one who warned you to watch out before the incident occurred. “If you need to find me, I’ll be here over the next couple of weekends!”

When you’re far away enough from the scene of the crime, you smack Chenle in the arm. In response, Daegal chirps a bark at you. “You just had to watch me make a complete fool out of myself back there.”

He lovingly places an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. “I mean, Daegal’s great and all, but if anyone has any entertainment value out of the three of us here, it’s going to be you.”

You groan at his harsh, yet true, words.

“Your head good though?”

You note how the throbbing is barely there anymore. Touching the spot, you wince. At most, there’s likely just a bruise. “Yeah, it’s good.”

In a hopeful tone, Chenle sing-songs, “Think you wanna come to the park again with me next weekend?”

Reflecting on what Mark said, you ponder if he really meant it about coming to find him if anything was wrong. Even though everything would likely be fine, you’d love to see him again.

But how could you face him after the disaster of your mouth running free? You shake your head in defeat.

On Monday night, the next evening, your phone goes off right as you enter your apartment building. You drag your phone out, eyebrows furrowing at the notification that Chenle’s calling you. When was the last time he’s called you?

Actually, you’re fairly sure he’s never called you. Ever. You pick it up without hesitation.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Find a TV playing the baseball game,” Chenle pants. “Right now.”

Out of all the things he could call you for, this is what he’s asking you to do? He’s not even into baseball; basketball is the sport he adores to death. “What?”

“Do it,” he orders. “Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

Thankful you haven’t gone up to your apartment yet, you stride over to the little in-house gym in your building near the front entrance. You haven’t used it much since you moved in, but you recall that the TVs usually play either sports or news.

And you remember right, except at the moment, the baseball game is the only event plastered on the screens. Most people in the room are fixated on the game while they’re doing their set or on their respective cardio machine.

“Okay...” you trail in uncertainty. A pitcher from your city’s team throws the ball and the batter misses. The camera cuts to the batter from the opposing team, shaking his head in disappointment. “Why must I need to watch the baseball game so ba—”

The camera’s now on Mark’s face.

The same Mark from the neighbourhood park yesterday, sans the glasses, and in proper baseball gear.

He’s on live, national television, playing baseball in front of the crowd of tens of thousands of people.

From a side angle, all eyes are on him as he tips his cap forward. His eyes mold into slits of concentration, his sharp jaw tightening after a lick of his lips. Sure, he’s different from yesterday’s care-free self, but you’d be lying if you said this serious side of him didn’t turn you on either.

Again, the camera cuts away, to the wide shot from behind him. Besides his great body (especially his gorgeous backside in those snug pants), you revel in the back of his white and dark green trimmed jersey, indicating his last name and his assigned number: Lee. 02.

He winds up for the pitch, raising his leg, and the ball is gone within a blink of an eye, landing directly into the catcher’s glove. The number 98 comes up near a rectangle on-screen, signifying the speed of his throw.

Mark wasn’t lying about his skills; he’s the pitcher with the strength of a thousand suns.

All the screens are filled with Player #02’s glimmer of a smirk, before he quickly stashes it away behind his cap. The camera lingers on him while the commentators in the background talk.

“A great put-out pitch for Lee,” one says. “His fastballs this season have been absolutely remarkable. Another great one from him.”

Cameras switch to another shot of Mark catching the ball, resetting once more for the next batter.

Another commentator supplements, “Aside from the slight hiccup earlier this season, he’s definitely on-track in making his mark on his debut in the league. A rookie ace indeed. It’s no wonder they’ve been calling him ‘The Tiger!’”

Understanding dawns upon you as to why he stated how easy it would be to contact him (and to be able to pay for any potential hospital bills). The city’s new star pitcher—how could you not know him?

“I knew he looked familiar!” Chenle pipes up from the other end, just as Mark’s nice figure takes up the screen once more. Awe and shock consume your voice, and you’re unable to create a coherent reply.

But you don’t need to, not when you have Chenle to talk your ear off about the game, but mostly Mark, for the rest of the night.

The week passes by, with you casually going through Mark’s Instagram (which, as he mentioned, he only occasionally posts on) and watching a few more of Mark’s games with Chenle in tow.

You fawn together over his plays (and his ass) and, despite not knowing much about the game, he must be having a great week from the commentators’ constant praises and the team’s overall wins.

Once Sunday finally arrives though, a wave of nervous anticipation rolls over you.

Because for you, it’s game time.

Sure, you may not have initially wanted to, but now that you know who Mark is, what is there to lose if you step up to the plate and see him again?

The scene of the park is quite similar to last week’s, except for the large presence of people staring at the men, many you recognize from the city’s team from all the games you’ve watched this week, playing baseball on the field. You wonder if you were too caught up with Mark last week because you didn’t notice how everyone else was this enraptured too.

As you stroll closer to the grassy area with Chenle and Daegal hovering behind, the players coincidentally take a breather. Some parents quickly take advantage of the break to bring their children up to receive autographs.

This is perfect timing for you too.

However, you stop in place, debating if this was a good idea to return. You’re surely going to make a fool out of yourself again (this time with no injury to blame) and Chenle, despite his promise of not interfering, will totally budge in and—

And it’s too late to backpedal, because Mark, although distracted by the little cluster of people surrounding him, lifts his head momentarily and his gaze lands directly on you.

Air seizes in your lungs when he flashes you a grin that could compete with the sun. He gives a small nod and wave. Like a star struck fangirl, you glance around to ensure he’s not gifting that nod and wave to anyone else.

But no, you’re not mistaken—his eyes are only on you.

Saying his thanks to his assumed fans, he jogs his way over to you, attired today in a fitted grey-mixed tee, ripped denim jeans, and thicker framed glasses compared to last time.

“Hey,” Mark says, still grinning beautifully. “How’s your head feeling?”

His smile is incredibly infectious. It’s a challenge not to do the same when you’re in the presence of this man. “Better. Had some bruising, but it’s all gone now.”

He nods in response, mumbling a “Good, good” under his breath. With his face turned away, he swipes some hair behind his ear and seems to be preparing himself to say something. But, you will yourself to address the elephant in the room first.

“So, why didn’t you tell me that you were in the major leagues?”

At the unexpected question, Mark darts his head up and draws it back in surprise, his lips pouting adorably. Your heart bursts.

Contrasting his cuteness, you notice the hint of stubble around his mouth. First the pout, now this. You’re captivated by it more than you should be.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “Well, you didn’t ask.”

“I did,” you laugh. “I asked who you were!”

After looking up in thought for a moment, he concedes. “Okay, maybe you did.”

You two laugh in unison, and even when the moment is over, both of you stare into each other's eyes. Time’s filled with comfortable silence and equally comfortable smiles.

Mark breaks the silence, asking, “Are you still wanting to stay safe and far away from my sexy arm?”

“Oh, my God...” you groan, hating to hear the same words that left your mouth from last week.

“No,” he says through another burst of laughter, “it’s a genuine question.”

“I meant to say strong!” you argue petulantly. “I was just a little out of it from the hit, no thanks to you.”

“I know, I know,” he giggles. “I’m genuinely wondering though, cause...” Mark pauses and begins to fidget, this time rubbing the nape of his neck.

You tilt your head, intrigued. “Cause what?”

“Cause, I was, uh, wondering,” he says, eyes averting yours. “Since I owe you for your head injury—”

“You don’t owe me anything—”

“And I know it’s a long shot cause you’re absolutely gorgeous and you’re probably taken—”

This time, you draw your head back in surprise over the compliment and the grand assumption that you’re off the market.

“—but did you wanna go out with me sometime?” His hand moves through his hair before he shyly looks at you again. “Maybe?”

Before you can even process what's happening you hear a "Yes!" behind you, causing you to jolt upright. “Yes, she will absolutely go on a date with you!”

“Chenle!” you gasp, appalled but not surprised, in the direction of your close friend as he nears your side. You face Mark again and gesture in the direction of the incoming intruder. “Don’t mind him.”

As per his charming self, your friend holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Chenle. Your newest number one fan. Great plays this week, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes the hand to shake, giving him a small smile. “And thanks.”

Mark’s eyes wander down and notices the dog wagging its tail excitedly. His face lights up. “Aw, who’s this cute little guy?”

“Daegal,” Chenle answers. “She’s my little handful, besides this one.” he says, jerking his head in your direction. Mark's too focused on Daegal to see you slapping her owner in the arm.

Squatting down, he pets the lively dog. You follow suit and crouch down too, watching Daegal gift Mark tons of licks and enthusiastically rubs herself against his hands and arms. She’s never this delighted with strangers usually.

“What do you think, Daegal?” Mark asks, holding eye contact with her as if she could reply, then he glances over at you. “Do you think your friend should go out with me?”

Immediately, she barks happily, causing all three of you to laugh.

“Good girl,” Chenle whispers from above.

Although you pucker your lips playfully at Daegal’s betrayal, you reach out to pet her fondly along with Mark.

“But how will you guarantee my safety from your strong arm?” Your stare lingers on them. Not that he has to know, but you had to make a conscious effort to not say sexy once more.

“I promise I won’t be tossing any more of my balls in your direction,” Mark casually says.

After a pause, your eyebrows raise and his eyes widen.

“Wait, I mean—shit...” he hisses, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Your lips twitch, suppressing a laugh and finding him adorable.

“I know what you mean,” you quickly say, relieving him of his embarrassment.

He shyly glances up at you and you share a comforting look. Suddenly, someone from the field hollers his name. With a small frown, he begins to walk in reverse away from you.

“I probably should get back, but now that you know how to get in touch, message me on Instagram and we can figure out a time that works for our date?”

“Yes, definitely!”

Incredulously, you look up at Chenle for answering on your behalf.

“For sure, Mark,” you say. “Have a great game.” With the way he plays, you know he will.

Chenle and you wave your good-byes to him and watch him retreat to his friends.

“You do know that I'm the one he asked out, right?” you ask as the three of you begin to walk towards to the park's popular ice cream cart, except you're more vigilant this time.

Your friend grabs out cash, ready to pay for your order. Or at least you hope so, for all the trouble he caused.

“Yes, and that's why I will live vicariously through you!”

After messaging him over the last week (with Chenle hovering over your shoulder and backseat driving many of the messages), Thursday really couldn't come fast enough for your date with Mark.

As you step out of your apartment complex, your jaw drops and an impressed smile fills your face.

In a green bomber, black tee, and skinny jeans, Mark coolly pulls up on a red Ducati motorbike. You recall seeing a post or two on his Instagram with it, but it takes you by surprise to see it in-person.

He takes off his helmet and runs fingers through his hair, attempting to ruffle out the messiness. You're a little envious of how good he looks, even with messy hair.

Your date takes in your outfit—an off-the-shoulder floral dress that teeters the lines of being cute and sexy simultaneously—and beams.

“Wow,” he says, mouth agape. “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you say, then make an over-the-top attempt to check him out. “You don't look so bad yourself.”

After a moment of shared smiles, he tilts his head towards his mode of transportation. “Hope this isn't too daunting.”

You shake your head. “Not at all.”

As Mark helps you with your helmet, now that you're up-close, you notice he's clean-shaven, unlike the other times you've seen him, and you presume he opted for contacts for tonight.

You also can't help but relish in the proximity of his hands near your face, flashing previously to the first time you met only a couple of weeks ago.

Once he's done, you ready yourself for the ride by wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, holding onto him snugly.

He twists around with his visor open.

“Ready?”

You respond with a squeeze around his waist and a nod, so he closes his visor and you're off through the nightscape of the city.

Everything passes by in a blur, but when there are the occasional moments when he slows down or stops at the red lights, you drink in how beautiful your city is.

On the other hand, you're dying to know what Mark planned for tonight. He gave you a vague idea—dinner, a small post-dinner activity (no balls involved, Mark promised), and dessert—but that's all.

In a nicer part of the city, he stops and parks in front of a bumbling Italian restaurant.

Once inside, Mark gives his name to the greeter, stating how he has a reservation, and a sweet host immediately leads you to your table. As you walk through the restaurant, you admire its warm atmosphere with dim lights and candles spread everywhere, along with the many other couples eating their dinner.

The host stops in front of a secluded semi-circular plush booth. You shimmy in, and Mark follows. Both of you sit comfortably close near the middle of the booth.

Despite how much you have been talking through DMs over the last week, as first dates often go, conversation is awkward at first.

However, as dinner progresses and the extravagant wine (Mark insisted, “Only the best for my date, please.”) makes its way through your systems, it gets easier.

You learn more about his family, his team, and his love for reading. For him, he learns about your friends, your job vs. dreams constant conflict, and your love for music.

The easiness also goes beyond words. Underneath the table, your legs brush up against one another's. You throw your head back in laughter, and you bravely touch his forearm in response. Mark even leans in close to your body, sometimes the edge of your shoulders gently pressing into the other.

By the end of dinner, being the gentleman he is, Mark doesn't even let you glance at the check and pays it all without hesitation. Then, you're outside and on his motorbike again, off to the mysterious post-dinner activity.

When he reaches a particular end of town where there isn't much around except one place, you have an inkling where you're about to go.

Once you're there and parked, your hunch is answered correctly, but you realize something.

“Isn't the aquarium closed at this hour?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and begins to usher you forward with a hand lingering at your lower back. Whispering into your ear, he says, “I may have booked it privately for tonight.”

As you walk through, Mark and you stick to each other's side, shoulder to shoulder, and switch between revealing more about yourselves while reading and conversing about the informational signs on the aquatic creatures.

Both of you stop in front of the main showcase of the aquarium: the large tank that houses two beluga whales.

Mark leans in a bit closer to the tank, catches sight of one of them in a corner, and points it out to you. As he straightens, you feel the back of your hand brush up against his.

“You’re quite the romantic,” you state while glancing at the tank, almost as low as a whisper. Even with nobody around, there's something so serene about the aquarium that makes you want to be respectfully quiet. "Does everyone get this first-date, first-class experience from you?”

“Only the girls who get hit on the head by me,” he teases in a whisper, making you softly chuckle.

After a moment passes as you watch the tank, hoping and waiting for the beluga whales to move to where you're standing, Mark asks, “Would it be surprising to say I don’t go on dates as often as you think?”

Your eyes dart toward him, but you quickly keep your gaze fixated back on the tank. You nod. “A little.”

He hums, followed by a lengthy sigh. You can sense a shift in him. You hear how it's laced with sadness, maybe even a little regret.

“I’ve been working so hard to get to this point and of course being drafted’s been so worth it, but it also meant that I had to sacrifice some things along the way. But now that I’m finally here”—you feel his gaze now directed on you—“I definitely can rearrange my time for other things.”

Your breathing slows as you turn to face him.

Courageously, Mark intertwines his hand with yours and his free one raises, caressing the bare skin of your upper arm. The contact makes you gasp and hold your breath.

He drags himself forward, as do you, and his hand is about to cup your face...

Until the two belugas are now your front-row audience, glancing at you as if they were smiling.

You both chuckle softly and give them a wave, not wanting to lose this rare chance of seeing them this close.

And although the special moment has passed, you two finish off the marine life tour with your hand in his.

Once outside, Mark leads you somewhere nearby. After about ten minutes of walking, you're standing on a large cliff with a scenic view of the city. You've never seen the city from this height before, and all its twinkling lights and the starry sky beckon you.

An ice cream truck is also coincidentally there, and you assume Mark booked it for your date tonight.

You two grab your waffle cone orders and sit down on a wooden bench that overlooks the view.

“So,” you say, licking the cone on its side to avoid the ice cream from dripping down your hand, “does this go towards the debt of you hitting my head?”

“Of course,” he nods with his signature smile, doing the same as you and trying to avoid his sweet treat from melting. “It'll be one ice cream out of the many future thousands.”

The implication that there’ll be more than just this date hangs in the night air, almost as if it's a promise, and you really hope it'll be true.

At the very least, it feels true as you peer over your city, leaning your head onto Mark's shoulder while he casually drapes an arm around you.

Getting off the motorcycle, Mark walks you to the front door of your place and you don't even think twice about asking if he wants to come in. He says yes a little too enthusiastically, making you giggle, but it confirms that neither of you want the night to come to an end just yet.

Mark hangs his jacket as you grab beers from the fridge. Both of you make talk for some time on your couch, but the energy in the room is buzzing, especially since the almost-kiss.

The second you gravitate towards Mark, he rushes to wrap an arm around your waist and his free hand cups your face, dragging you in for the first kiss that's been itching to happen.

His lips are dangerously soft, addictive really. You swear he tastes like cherry (could be from the food earlier or maybe a lip balm flavour, you wonder).

It's a slow, yet deep, start. In the beginning, the kissing is with intent, wanting to know what each other tastes like. Naturally, the curiosity evolves into exploration, with Mark cautiously dipping his tongue into your mouth. You react with zeal, swiping your tongue against his and even experiment sucking on it. He shudders at the sensation.

Mark holds you close throughout, but your bodies move into a new position, letting you sink comfortably into your couch beneath him.

Here, passion rises. He grips your waist, whilst his body presses into yours, and he begins to trail down your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Although it's already off your shoulders, he drags a sleeve of your dress further down, hungry to kiss as much of your bare skin as he possibly can.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you arch into him, embracing his clear desire against you. You're falling and falling and falling, becoming more drunk with every touch and kiss from Mark. Ever since the first day you met, you couldn't help but yearn for his touch. Now, having a taste of him like this, you're desperate to experience more.

Although you're underneath him, you decide to take hold of the kissing. When he takes a breather for an instant, you steal the chance and fervently kiss along his jaw and rugged neck. Mark moans, gripping your waist harder, and grinds into you, his hardness dying to be free.

Shockingly, he suddenly tears away, sitting up and panting. Confused, you mirror him.

“Should we stop?” he asks. “Like, I know I might be being presumptuous, but I don’t wanna ruin our potential next date if we rush too soon?”

It melts your heart that he retracted because he's concerned over your potential future. You delicately rearrange some of his loose hair stuck to his forehead. “If you want to stop, we can.”

He pouts, reminding you of him previously at the park, followed by a cute whimper.

“But I don’t want to stop...” he laugh-smiles, leaning into you, about to drive his mouth into yours again.

“Neither do I.”

And with that, Mark makes the split-second decision to continue this good thing and not look back. Once again, he's leaving love upon your shoulders, at a measured pace currently, and he carefully lowers your dress. Drooping off your shoulders, you let it drop and bunch around your stomach.

Surprise is written on his face, as you didn't wear a bra underneath your dress, but the surprise quickly dissipates into enthrallment over the beautiful sight.

He lowers himself, mouth traversing across your chest while his free hand gently massages one of your breasts. You succumb to the rising pleasure, curving into him again.

When he arrives at one tip of yours, he looks up and asks, his voice low and gravelly, “Can I...?”

You whimper-nod, already on the verge of begging him to take the next step.

It kills you that he teases first, merely pecking the surrounding area and your tip; his mouth leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your patience grows thin.

“Mark, please, just—”

Air is depleted as his tongue swipes against your nipple in a broad stroke. He then wraps his mouth around it, sucking firmly. The other hand that was kneading your other breast turns to focus on your nipple, pinching it between his index finger and thumb.

The more he sucks, the more you hear the wet puckering of his lips, the more it makes you clench tighter. Bliss begins to boil in your abdomen when he flicks his tongue and mimics the same on your other tit with the pad of his thumb.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you sense you're close, but Mark abruptly stops. You're about to speak up, believing he'd be the type to finish you off if you ask, until you realize he's kneeling on the floor in front of you and stripping off his t-shirt.

With your help, Mark eases your dress to the floor and places it safely on the coffee table. Focusing on you, his gaze is dripping of lust—so carnal, so different than his regular self.

As Mark advances to your heat, your palms graze over his defined shoulders and back. He parts your legs further with his hands wrapped around your inner thigh.

“Wearing panties?” he inquires, his finger pulling the fabric a bit to the side.

“Huh?”

“No bra, but panties?” he smirks, making you realize the joke.

You roll your eyes and relax momentarily, leaning your head back. “Are you into that? No panties underneath?”

“Could be hot,” he shrugs, tugging your underwear to your calves and tossing them off to the side.

“Maybe one date I can do th-ah—”

Without warning, he dives in, one his hands now grasping you by your lower back, and you lurch forward to get a good view of his head between your legs. You've got a grip on his shoulder, the other tugging at his hair.

His tongue laps at your folds with agility, figures out what you like or don't like. There isn't much you don't like, Mark deduces. Languid licks. Penetrating patterns. Fast flicks.

You respond eagerly to them all with harsh tugs to his hair, notably when he spreads your folds to devour you entirely. The hair pulling hurts a bit, but he doesn't mention anything; he likes it a little rough.

Despite the positive reactions, he can tell you've been at a simmer with his moves, not quite reaching close to a high. He withdraws his mouth, and, through your hazy vision, you catch sight of his honeyed lips.

But your eyes blow wide open and an acute moan dispels as your lover of the night fills you with his fingers, alongside his licking of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Following a few more minutes of scissoring and a few sucks to your bundle of nerves, he asks, breathing into your inner thigh, “Does this feel good, gorgeous?”

Your lip is drawn between your teeth, digging so hard from the pleasure you wonder if it'll bleed soon. “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he says, kissing your thigh tenderly, “'cause I'm gonna need you to remember how good tonight is so you'll keep coming back for more.”

Not gonna be a problem, you think, but all you could muster is senseless panting.

“You close?”

You can barely release a whimper out to respond, and Mark orders you to tell him when you're near.

It doesn't take long to get there. The warmth in your abdomen encapsulates your body and your hips rut upward frantically, desiring your climax to take authority.

“Mark, Mark, Mark. Fuck, I'm close, I'm—”

Immediately, he stands up, fingers still inside you and somehow impaling you further and faster while his thumb lazily strokes at your clit when possible, and his ardent kiss is the needed catalyst to take you over the brink. Simultaneously, the kiss swallows your bountiful whines.

When you finally come down from your high, you kiss him deeply and feel him through his jeans against you.

“Let's take this to the bedroom, I need to grab—”

“Should I run to the pharmacy to—?”

In tandem, you chuckle over how in sync you are, and tip your perspired foreheads against the other.

Holding his hand, you lead him to your bedroom. You turn on your bedside lamp and gesture to the tissues, so he can clean his hands. You then bound to your bedroom bathroom and fumble around to find your condom packs somewhere in a drawer.

Upon your return, you're graced with the sight of Mark sitting naked on the edge of your bed, stroking himself. You almost salivate.

God, he's bigger than you expected, and that's only one part of his magnificent body. You didn't have the opportunity before to admire his muscular abs, but you take every chance to do so now. The way his arm flexes with each stroke. And those thighs...

“Sorry,” he murmurs and shyly shrinks a bit, in contrast to his lewd action, “hope it's okay that I took my pants off already.”

He really is quite endearing. Maybe even a little perfect.

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, Mark.”

You place the condoms onto your bedside table, but are so absorbed with Mark's cock and existence. Entranced, it's your turn to drop to your knees.

Fingers wrap around his cock, and Mark's groans rise. You delve in your enthrallment for a bit, squeezing and stroking to your heart's content until you finally decide to ease him into your mouth.

Your tongue works wonders, tasting the underside of his length with every bob of your head. Meanwhile, his hands lazily thread through your hair and he watches attentively.

More saliva develops and drips, especially when you relax your mouth to let him hit the back of your throat. Obscene slurps accompany his delicate moans, both of which permeate the room in melodious unity.

As his threading develops into tight pulls of your hair, you detract yourself to avoid the night ending right then and there.

Since he's still sitting on the side of the bed, you sit onto his lap with a plan to abate and elongate the tension. You're back to kissing him, allowing both parties' hands to roam each other.

“I love your arms,” you mumble into his mouth as you reach for them.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I know you love my sexy arms.” You punch him teasingly.

But an idea flickers in your head. You halt your actions.

“This might be weird to ask, but could I...” you trail off, picking at your hands, realizing maybe you shouldn't finish your question.

“Hey,” he whispers, holding your chin in his hand. “You can ask me anything, beautiful.”

You hesitate with closed eyes.

“Could I... ride your arm?”

Peeking a nervous eye open, an evidently puzzled Mark stares back at you.

“I—What? Sure?” His voice raises in octaves.

Embarrassed, you try to wave it off. “Never mind that I asked.”

“No, hey,” he says, his palm caressing the side of your face and angling it towards him. “I'm flattered and obviously, nobody has ever asked to ride my arm before. But if you want to give it a go, by all means, I'm open to it.”

“Yeah?”

Mark gives you the sweetest smile and a reassuring nod. “Yeah.”

Since you suggested it, you lead him to lay on the bed, more in the centre so there'd be enough room for you to sit. He watches you gingerly lift his hand near head-level, as if he's almost flexing to show-off or about to lay his head on his palm.

Carefully, you sit onto his left arm, facing the direction of his body. At the contact, you shudder. “Is this okay?”

He agrees, enticed by your ass near his face and the general exquisiteness of your being. “You can put more weight on it, it's okay.”

You comply, relishing in the pressure of his arm against you. After becoming more comfortable and placing most of your weight to an arm on the bed, you slowly rub yourself upon his arm.

Mark's fascinated by this foreign act, eyes watching your every move. With his free hand, he touches himself.

His favourite part about you riding his arm? The look on your face—fluttering eyes paired with your lip biting—and the fact that you find him this attractive, that using him this way can simply get you off.

“This okay still?” you breathe.

“Fuck yeah.” He squeezes himself harder. He knows the answer to the next question, but he wants to hear it from you directly. “Does it feel good for you?”

You assent with a sharp moan. Without notice, you lick your palm with the intent of reaching over to grab his cock. At first, he's confused when he notices your hand, but he happily lets you handle him.

“Oh, God,” Mark pants.

You fasten your pace on his arm, grinding greedily against him. As you do so, your arm attempts to match the pace for his desire.

“Fuck,” Mark twists his head to look at your hips, tries to focus on how wet you are amidst his own pleasure, “you really do love my arms...”

It's a sweet dream for you—no, sweeter than any dream or fantasy could ever be. This is real, this spectacular sensation spreading all over and it's all thanks to his arm. Your body winds up, tighter and tighter, and you eventually break, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

Cleaning your mess up, you wipe his arm fast, keen on what's about to happen next. You then draw him into your mouth a bit to get him up again before rolling the condom onto him.

Once the rubber is on, you tease him from above, sliding the tip of his cock against your pulsing centre.

Mark may be a gentleman, but a gentleman can only be patient for so long. He seizes his possession and you gasp as he holds you by your hip, forcing you to sit down onto him.

The feeling is heavenly, stretching you sweetly. You bounce on his cock, and the sounds from you two are louder than from before. There's a small voice inside your head, worried about a noise complaint from your neighbours, but future you could deal with that.

Right now, it's all about Mark. He plays with your breasts with every move you make, while you fondle his abs and arms. Both of you try your best to look at one another through the pleasure, but it's difficult when you're floating higher and higher.

He then clasps your lower back and skillfully rises upward with the help of his strong abs. This position provides an angle for him to do all the work to thrust into you, as well as continuing to rub your breasts and even suck on them again.

At this point, you're in absolute state of frenzy, drowning in all the stimulation. Mark's underwater, right there with you too.

He pulls away in the midst of licking your nipple, his eyes going round. Nevertheless, you lean into him, your breasts pressed into his face and your mouth hangs.

Together, you cry each other's names and swear in endless spirals and the bliss finally reaches its peak for the evening.

As Mark lays next to you in your bed, observing your peaceful sleeping state, he's obviously amazed by tonight's events, but he’s also unsure what’s in-store for either of you.

There are so many factors at play with his career, you're both essentially still strangers, the future is unknown...

And yet, despite these worries, the feeling blooming in his chest is more than a blossoming liking. It’s akin to the moment he steps up to plate, either ready to bat or pitch. Nervousness, determination, and...

It’s too early to call it, but when he’s around you, he swears it feels a lot like his love for the game.

He shakes his head, not wanting to jump into the deep end this fast. He doesn't want to ruin this good thing prematurely.

Nevertheless, he places one last kiss atop your forehead before he sleeps, praying you'll be a new constant in his life, at least in the near future.

EPILOGUE — FOUR MONTHS LATER

Today is game four of the World Series and your city has won the previous three. If they continue their streak, tonight will be the night where Mark and his teammates take home the championship.

Hours prior to the big game, the teams are having batting practice beforehand to warm-up.

With your chin perched in your palm, you watch Mark closely—of course, safely from a distance and from behind him—and nod with every ball he hits well at the mound. You're seated in the lower area of the stadium among many of the other team members' families and friends, including a gleeful Chenle.

“Stop checking out your boyfriend's ass,” he orders, nudging you with his shoulder as he tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“You stop checking out my boyfriend's ass,” you retort, nudging him back.

The two of you continue your little nudging contest until he says, “So when you guys get married—”

“Oh, my God, Chenle...”

“I'm just saying, we all know you two are going to have beautiful little baseball player babies! Anyway, as I was saying, when you guys get married, can Daegal be the ringbearer somehow? She's pretty much the reason why you guys got together in the first place.”

You shake your head, eyes still on your love. “Chenle, we'll have that conversation when and if we get there.”

“When we'll get there,” he states confidently, and you laugh, dismissing him.

Sure, it may have been a fresh relationship only four months in, but you couldn't deny that maybe the idea of marriage wiggled its way through your mind here and there. Despite your thoughts, it wasn't at the forefront; you were happy in love with Mark now, here in the present.

Player #02 hands his bat over to another player and jogs towards you. It makes you wonder why he hasn't done an advertisement with slo-mo running and wind blowing through his hair yet.

“How’d I do?” Mark asks, leaning onto the railing next to you. Chenle gives him two thumbs up with a large grin.

“Awesome," you agree. "Did you think about hitting my head with each ball?”

Mark chuckles and juts his tongue to a side of his mouth. “You’re never going to let me live that down, huh?”

“Never,” you quip, scrunching your nose. You reach out for him and hold the tips of his fingers in yours. “You nervous?”

“Yeah,” he exhales, closing his eyes. “More than usual.”

Your fingers progress forward and your thumbs rub the back of his hands lovingly. “You’ll do amazing, like always.”

“You’re too sweet, babe. But this might be the game and I might—”

You cut him off by cupping his cheek in your palms.

“And you are the Mark ‘The Tiger’ Lee”—you tenderly swipe some of his hair away from his face—“top contender for both the Rookie of the Year and CY Young Award. So no matter what happens, you will come out on top.”

In awe and in a little disbelief with how well-put that was, he stares at you with starry, doe-like eyes. He's so grateful to have met you, to have someone so supportive of him in his life.

After a few moments, he concedes. “I had a pretty great run this season, haven’t I?”

You admire how humble your boyfriend always is. It's one of his greatest traits.

“And you have me,” you add jokingly.

He tilts his head side to side. “I guess there’s that too...”

The two of you share a kiss, innocent at first, until he deepens it and you wrap your arms around his neck, which generates some of his teammates to holler and whistle. Likewise, you hear Chenle screech, "Save it for after the win!" and you swear you feel some popcorn being thrown at your back.

Finally, until you're content, you peel away and press your forehead against his.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whisper.

Mark nods, a little more confident than before. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“So much,” he punctuates it with a loving squeeze to your shoulder.

You don't think you'll see him before the game starts, so you grant him one last good luck kiss.

You wouldn't know it that night, but by the end of the season, Mark would indeed take home the Rookie of the Year and the CY Young Award, being the youngest recipient of both awards.

That evening though, your city's team works in unbelievable harmony (or maybe the opposing team is having its worst day) because the game is a perfect one. Mark shuts out the other team, not allowing them to have any runs whatsoever...

Thus, sealing his first title of being a World Series champion.

But certainly not without his beloved running out into the field to give him a congratulatory hug and kiss among the sea of people.

And at the end of that night in the confines of your bedroom (after earth-shattering celebratory sex), you would find out that Chenle was right (and later, that he was in on it) when Mark, merely in his boxers, gets on one knee with a little opened box in front of you.

He's visibly shaking, and not because he's half-naked. You've never seen him so unnerved. Your love spills the following in almost one breath:

“I know we just started dating, and we can be engaged for, like, ten years or whatever. I just know that, deep down, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I may have felt this way since our first date. I really, really, really hope you feel the same, even if just a little bit."

Mark takes a deep breath, trying to regain composure for the important question he exhales.

Tears rise in your eyes as an ocean of feelings hit you, but within that ocean, no doubts rise to the surface whatsoever.

All you think about is how you will be forever grateful for the baseball that hit your head on that life-changing day.

You immediately say yes.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #yn brainrot

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zephyrchama · 3 months

Text

It was dinnertime in the House of Lamentation. Conversation petered out as everyone focused on the hot food in front of them, leaving a quiet lull interrupted only by clinking silverware.

“I’ve always wanted a traditional church wedding,” you said, entirely unprompted.

The clinking came to a stop as the seven brothers processed what you had just said. They turned their eyes towards you.

Beelzebub was the first to break the silence despite his mouth full of food. “Huh?”

“I just always thought it would be nice. A quaint wedding in a nice little church. Maybe a chapel.”

Leviathan briefly choked on what he was chewing.

“Oh I totally get it!” Asmodeus empathized. “Rows of pews with white flowers, those high arched ceilings, the evening light of the human world sun shining on us through a beautiful stained glass window as we kiss? Oh!” He clutched his shoulders, “it gives me chills just imagining it!”

“Asmo, we can’t enter churches,” Satan stated matter-of-factly. The knife handle gripped in his fist started to bend.

“Hah!? What? Lucifer, is that true?” Mammon slammed his fork down and just about jumped out of his chair as he shouted at the oldest.

“Sit down, Mammon.” Lucifer rubbed his temple and tried to perform damage control before the inevitable headache set in. “What brought this on suddenly?” he asked you.

Keeping a straight face was immensely difficult but you pulled it off. “I was just thinking about weddings and stuff, y’know. It’d be nice. Ever since I was little I thought a church wed-”

Belphegor interjected with “You’re not even that religious.”

A flood of complaints washed over the table as everyone started loudly protesting.

“You… You’re not allowed to get married anywhere without me!” Leviathan shouted.

“Does it have to be a church? What about a restaurant instead?” Beel suggested, looking worried. “I know a lot of pretty ones.”

“We could build a mock church in a studio and get married there,” Asmo fantasized. “The stained glass could be you and me as cherubs, we can ask Luke to be the flower boy. He’d be so cute in a little tux!”

“You wouldn’t even need a ceremony with me,” Belphegor said. “If you really want one, we can have it outdoors under the stars.”

Satan’s knife was bent at a 90-degree angle. “What a stupid thing to say. Libraries are just as quiet and nice as churches. Probably. They sure suit you better than a church.”

“The restaurants also have in-house catering,” Beel continued.

“That ain’t gonna happen!” Mammon bounced his knee, shaking the entire table as he lamented, “I ain’t lettin’ my human get married in some church! We can go anywhere you want! Anywhere else!”

”There’s a church in my game!” Leviathan gasped. He thought an in-game wedding would be just as good as a real one. “I can show you! We can go now! Lets make you a character!”

Lucifer cleared his throat once. Then twice. The third time was a warning that got lost amid all of the whining. “Enough,” he finally growled. The room went silent for him. “You’re not getting married in a church. End of discussion.”

“Oh.” Weird of him to decide that on his own, but you were at your limit. A wide grin had already spread across your face. “Yeah, ok. By the way this roast you made is delicious.”

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r3starttt · 28 days

Text

YOUR WOMAN

☆ lawyer! Abby

cw: dom-top! abby. sub! reader. thigh riding. spanking. good girl-princess-angel.

Abby was beyond exhausted. This whole week had been full of dumb people bothering her and her current clients - a married couple, because there were papers missing or formalities unfinished.

And no matter what she did, there was always something wrong, and having the patience she has, whenever she was awake her humor was horrible, which lead to her keeping distance with you. Whenever she tried to sleep, she couldn't, and it was torture to see your clearly hurt expression or having the most stressful nightmares whenever she could finally close her eyes.

She'd proposed to spend the whole weekend with you, but of course she couldn't get what she wanted, ever.

Starting with her being awake early in the morning by the stress and all the caffeine she consumed a day before making effect on her body, still. Then, her clients panicking over another important paper deal that apparently had to do with her. She couldn't even have a proper breakfast, not even sit next to you and at least watch you eat and hear you talk about your week. Nothing.

So when the sunlight started to fade, you felt like a blessing appeared. Forgetting about how much you've needed her the whole week, you needed her to have a rest, to distract her mind a little. And what's better than you both getting what you much need in a little time? She sure can get some minutes for this.

So, with only one of her t shirts you innocently walked outside her office, around thousands of times before she noticed you. Or so you thought since you heard that pretty laugh she has. The one that she uses for mocking you, such a pleasure.

"Come here" she looked tired, and it made you regret your plan, just for a couple seconds before you saw the veins on her hands shine just perfectly when she patted on her lap for you to come sit on her.

"What're you doing? Mhm?" You placed your legs intertwined with hers, making yourself comfortable in the small chair she had been working at all day. Hesitating a little, you responded "nothing?"

"Oh, sure we're doing nothing?" Her fingers trailed a small path along the sides of your thighs, rolling the hem of your shirt up your hips. You, on the other hand, let your weight rest fully on her, positioning the palms of your hands on top of her shoulders to keep you in place.

"I'm pretty sure we do" your fingers grabbed the sides of her glasses gently, taking them off. While placing them on top of the wooden desk, you took a glance at the screen, almost darkening at how long it had been since she paid attention to it.

As much as you desired her, you couldn't dare to keep her busy from work, which didn't seem like the occasion.

Her usual braid was messy, with some locks of her hair dancing above her cheeks. You moved them behind her ears, tracing a path down her neck which was lately followed by your lips letting open mouthed kisses along it.

The pressure growing in between your legs grew at each move you or her did. Her leg bouncing felt like hell, and you couldn't help but rub yourself on her. You could feel her grinding, her hands leading your ass as she pleased.

Your last sight was her eyes closing, previously for you. Her mouth opening very slightly as the feeling of your saliva sent shivers to her whole body.

The grip on your lower back got tighter, lowering till her hands were fully grasping at your ass, trying to prevent you from moving. You only kept on fighting her. "Don't" she hissed.

You laughed in between kisses, ending in her clavicle connected to your lips by a small trail of saliva. Your hips kept on grinding on her lap, and by how her leg also kept bouncing you thought she was just fine with it, she wasn't.

"Fuck it, stop" her voice sounded too overwhelmed for you to take it serious, until she made you take it seriously. "Stop it, stay".

You whined at it, annoyed by all her restrictions even when she was the one that needed a hard fuck this time. You hate- despised that stubborn side of her, the one that kept you under her control all the time, because what else could you want on days like this than just please her and make her cum all over you, make her take a proper break. Fuck her.

You were ready to just sit on her lap, have a quick make out session and leave her alone, but that's not what she meant, and you knew it.

"Don't act like that" her thumb slided outside your lips, down your chin. "You wanted my attention, so bad? Then fucking take it"

Your tongue slid out your lips, making space for her fingers. Her hand pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against you in such messy kiss. Drool all over your faces.

She'd laugh in between kisses, pressing you closer by holding the back of your head and practically lead you to where she wanted, how she wanted.

She could feel- see the damp spot on her pants, growing every time she groaned in your mouth, whined at you deliciously you'd tuck at her braid. She couldn't wait any longer either.

Her hands pressed on your chest, pushing you enough for her to have space to speak. "You're gonna take my pants off" she murmured, her nose dancing closely to yours "and you're gonna ride 'em"

You stupidly nodded, standing on your feet again, taking your time to get rid of her belt and- god, such gorgeous view. The warm light of her office lightening her legs, her thighs, her stomach showing once you made a mess of her and her blouse. "Sit"

You did as you were told, sitting as you were in the very first beginning. "You think you can get yourself off?" Her hands kept you in place, not even letting you realize what was happening. You just nodded, letting her manhandle you as she wished.

"Good" you heard her husky voice, her hands making circles along the fat of your ass, leading you up her thigh, then down her knee. You let out small whimpers, already pooling her whole leg, clenching at the emptiness. "Good girl"

Every time your clit rubbed against her skin- there was such an obscene sound, wet, loud. Abby couldn't help but widen her smile, you looked so inviting, so pretty, just for her. Smile that vacuumed out of her face the moment you, cautionary, tried to increase the speed.

Her hand moved off your ass, slapping it just a few seconds later. You felt your legs shake at it, such delicious pleasure with a mix of pain starting to mix just right near your cunt. "So wet mhm? Like it when I do that?" She mocked.

"Making a mess on me" her lips pressed over your clavicle, leaving tender kisses along it. Your lips kept right next to her ear, giving her the privilege of hearing your agitated breathing, your whines and pleads over and over again.

There was a knot of pleasure appearing on your stomach, her hands, her words, her smell, her everything was making you insane. The feeling of her bare legs somehow hitting your clit and arousal just perfectly, as if your bodies were made to fit with each other. You knew you wouldn't last long.

The plush of your thighs got harshly gripped by her fingers. "I know baby, I know" You replied equally, holding yourself with the help of your hands on her neck, now being lead to a much satisfying and fast speed than before. "C'mon"

"It's okay angel, yeah, yeah" Abby mumbled as she felt your body filling on top of her. She felt the wetness on her thigh increasing more and more, you could only thank her for it. "Ride it out, just like that"

"Fuck- abby" You let out breathlessly, your voice sloghtly acute. Her hands moved to your back, holding you in place. You looked fucking gorgeous. "Such a good girl f' me princess. Did so good f' me" your ears got covered in a wave of compliments, how you've done so good, how pretty you looked, all followed by kisses on your temple, circles on your back. God she was fucking sweet.

"Come here" you shifter your gaze upwards, meeting her eyes, so shiny and full of adoration. "Kiss" your lips pressed on hers, not caring about your still pretty evident exhaustion or the mess you've done.

"Do me a favor" she mumbled, giving you a short kiss after. You replied with a quiet 'yeah?'.

"Lick my thigh clean, can you?" a sheepish smile adorned your face, rolling your eyes yet doing as she asked you to, a favor, right?

Your feet stepped the cold floor, slowly getting on your knees. Leaning your head closer to her thigh, you stick out your tongue, taking a taste of the mess you've done on her. Your eyes never left hers.

Her fingers trailed the path of your cheek bones, as if she was still guiding you through it.

Your hands travelled to the sides of her legs, stopped by her own hands once she realized what you were trying to do. "Nuh uh, go get clean and take a nap" your tongue got back to its place, leaving one last kiss on her thigh. You weren't planing on fighting with her.

"Good" You stood up, giving her a last glance, taking note of how she looked even when half of her wasn't an unusual view for you. "Promise I'll finish... all this" her hand signaled to her screen, clearly still a bit stressed by her work. "Then I'll be with you, doing whatever you want, yeah?" You simply smiled at her, trying to let abby know she could always take her time. You'd wait an eternity for her if necessary.

"How's that sound then?" You humorously rolled your eyes "perfect" her hands opened one more time, making space for you. You followed her, feeling her hands embrace you.

"Thanks" she murmured, her voice muffled but her face being so close to your stomach. You laughed, completely enamored by her, your hands caressing her hair. "I better get what I want later"

Abby pushed you away gently, laughing back and nodding at your request. "Go" You turned around, getting to feel her hands one last time, on your ass, so sweet of her, right?

#abby x y/n #abby fanfiction #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson #abby smut #abby x reader smut #abby x black reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader

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phefics · 6 months

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veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

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won4ver · 3 months

Text

✈︎ best hidden secret

In Sunghoon’s opinion the worst part about being in a secret relationship was the sight of all these men thinking they had a chance with his girlfriend, but he knew no one could make you feel the way his touch did.

pairing : bf!sunghoon x afab!reader

warnings + genre : jealousy. secret relationship. suggestive. swearing. slight fingering.

wc : 1.1k

You’ve been Park Sunghoon’s best-hidden secret for a while.

So well hidden that it encouraged all these useless men to flirt with you, thinking they had even the slightest chance. He could only laugh to himself through a clenched jaw as he watched all these ill-mannered boys try and get with you, their foolish promises of pleasuring you physically boiling his blood.

The room grew hot as his eyes narrowed at you, specifically at your hand that was playing with the fingers of the man who’s been trying to get with you since you stepped foot in the room.

It wasn’t your touch that made Sunghoon jealous, hell you could touch anyone however you liked. But it was the way the man kept trying to slip his hands into yours that caused him to envision himself breaking his fingers.

Only Sunghoon could touch you, you were his. He knew that no one knew about the two of your little… relationship. But in his mind, they should've known better, known that you wouldn't go home with these little inexperienced try-hards. And they definitely should have known how to keep their hands to themselves.

It was like his eyes were glued in one place, never moving away from you. The heat of his glare had to have reached you by now because your hands were now by your side, twiddling with your empty wine glass as you anxiously glanced around the room.

The moment your gaze met Sunghoon’s heat pooled down your body, your nerves igniting with his heavy look. From your spot, you see his knee bouncing with the hand resting against it flexed, fisted in a tight grip around his glass. But nothing compared to the sight of the top few buttons of his blazer open, your dark marks barely visible behind the collar of his shirt.

Sunghoon knew you were looking at him, he could practically hear your thoughts. He also knew that if you didn't step away from the man situated in front of you, he was going to ruin his pretty face. Bruise his eyes until he could no longer look at you, it tasted almost too tempting on Sunghoon’s tongue.

The second Sunghoon jerked his head to the hallway you understood right away, leaving the man in front of you with nothing but a fake smile. The music was pounding in your ears as your heels clicked against the ground in a hurried strut, excitement coursing through your veins as you saw Sunghoon rise from his spot in the corner of your eye.

You flickered the lights to the bathroom the moment you stepped through, turning to close the door behind you before a hand pushed against it, halting it from closing. Sunghoon squeezed himself through the door, grabbing your arm and pushing you against the door as it slammed shut.

You jumped in surprise as the loud bang ricocheted in your ears, eyes widening for a split second as you looked up at Sunghoon. Your heart stuttered in your chest as a small smirk overtook his lips, one of his eyebrows quirking up at you in annoyance.

The next moment was a blur. One second Sunghoon was standing in front of you, chest rising and falling as he glared at you, and the next you were in complete darkness with his lips pressed against your ear.

“Do you think he could make you feel better than I can? No one knows your body like I do” One of his hands grabbed the base of your throat, pushing you further into the door as he ground his lower body into yours.

He used his thumb and pointer finger to raise your head, pushing it up as his lips attached themselves to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “No one can make you cum with just their fingers, no one but me” His harsh breath tickled your neck, his teeth biting marks into your neck as you panted from above him.

He could feel you getting restless, rubbing yourself against his jeans in an attempt to get yourself off. An airy laugh of disbelief left his lips, lip rolling between his teeth as your movements grew more frantic, your skirt rolling up as your underwear rubbed against his thigh.

He removed his free hand from the hold it had on your wrists, moving it down to press on your lower stomach. You whined as the friction stopped, your hips pinned against the wall as Sunghoon leaned his weight into both of his hands.

“What do you not understand about only me pleasuring you?” He pried your legs further open with his knee, moving his hand down to unbutton your skirt. Your head tilted back with a heavy sigh, his hand sliding under your waistband as he slipped his fingers between your underwear and your miniskirt, right above the place you needed him the most.

He circled his fingers across your underwear for a few seconds, lightly pushing the tips of two fingers into you from above the soiled fabric.

Even with the lights off Sunghoon could still see the way you reacted to his touch, the way your body tensed as you anticipated his next movements.

“Since you want to pleasure yourself so bad, go ahead” He slipped your pantries to the side, lining his fingers up to make it easier for you.

“Please you, please” You tried to beg Sunghoon to touch you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer so you could bury your face into his neck.

“Oh? My baby doesn’t want to feel good?” Sunghoon spoke with a layer of faux surprise, making a show of beginning to pull his hands away.

“No no, just want you to do it for me” You were blabbering at this point, tears filling your eyes and you used your hips to chase his hand. “Please, I only need you”

Park Sunghoon was a weak man, the feeling of your wet cheeks against his bare neck nearly made him lose his mind. “Okay, stop crying, pretty” He shushed you as he pushed his fingers into you, letting go of your neck to undo his own jeans buttons.

“I’ll make you feel so good, so much better than these little boys could”

It wasn’t until a few days later when you learned that the party was hosted at the house of the man who flirted with you, and the owner of the towel Sunghoon used to clean you up.

Sunghoon only smirked at you when you told him, “he wanted you so bad, baby. Highly doubt he’d even clean the towel”

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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months

Text

Mini Lando

Request: Don’t know if you’re taking request but the pictures of lando with the kid😩😩😩. Imagine lando and him matching and sitting in the car together and he wants to be just like his dad. And baby lando tries to protect his momma just like dad does. Lando goes full papa bear on anyone who even thinks of looking at his little family funny like I’m emotional thank you

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Dad!Lando with Baby!Lando

A/N: I'm tying this in with this headcannon I did because it's too cute. Also I'm glad this was my first fic back, I've missed it

Mini Lando Series Masterlist / New Addition

"Aiden, you have to be good today. Understand?" You ask your toddler. Today was the Silverstone GP and Aiden was joining the both of you for the race.

"Yes mummy, I'll be good for you and Daddy." Aiden giggles having always been a good boy, and he knows if he's extra good he'll get to visit Uncle Los and Uncle Chacha.

"Come on, I've got something for you." You pick Aiden up, as Lando was still asleep able to finally sleep in. It was hard work, but you were able to get a special suit from McLaren, who was all to happy to do it.

Keep reading

Getting him dressed, Aiden couldn't contain his excitement, putting it on. "Mummy, I'm Daddy." He stares at awe, seeing himself in the mirror.

While getting Aiden ready, Lando had woken and was pouring himself a glass of orange juice, still hating coffee to this day. Aiden hearing movement in the kitchen rushes out, before you could stop him.

"Daddy! Loooook!" Lando flinches at Aiden's scream, rubbing his eyes he sees a flash of orange. Aiden stands right at Lando's feet giving this big grin.

Blinking sleep away, it takes Lando a second to take in what he was seeing. Hearing you walk in he looks at you, then his little boy, then back at you.

"I want another." Lando says which has you gawking at his statement. "Lando Norris!" You shriek rushing to cover Aiden's ears who just giggles, jumping up and down.

"What?! Can you blame me! He's dressed as me, giving me those big eyes, you basically put a huge "I want another baby Lando" child in front of me, this is your fault." You glare at him as he rolls his eyes crouching down.

"Look at my little boy, are you dressed as Daddy today? Trying to take my seat hmm?" He asks as Aiden bounces around nodding. "I'm going to be Daddy today, Mummy said I could. Does that mean I get to ride with you?" Aiden asks running around as Lando drinks his juice.

Lando always made you take a sperate car, so the media wouldn't get to rowdy, and you always had security around you so no one could hurt his wife and child.

"I don't know buddy. It's my home race, means lots of cameras." Aiden stops and kicks the carpet, he was a mini Lando. Hated being in the spotlight and was shy around those he didn't know.

"I'll be okay! I'll be protecting Mummy anyways! Like you!" Aiden pointed to the LN logo on his little suit, Lando feeling his heart burst with love.

"I want another one." Which has him yelping when you slap him on the back of the head, but you smile. "Baby, come here." You bend down as Aiden runs, hugging you when he reaches you.

"You'll get to ride with Daddy, and I'll be there too, but you have to promise, be good. If Daddy tell you something, you have to listen understand?" Aiden nods as he runs off to play with his toys before you all leave.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------———-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lando has Aiden sitting next to him, Aiden leaning into his father still dressed in his little suit, you sneak a few pictures. Lando keeps his arm around his son, worry laced on his face.

"Lando." You whisper pulling your husband's attention to you. "It's going to be okay. We're safe with you." Reaching over you place your hand on his knee, smiling at the comfort. "Aiden, sugar. We're here." Lando whispers waking the toddler.

"Give us a few, to let him wake." Lando tells you, to which you nod letting Aiden wake fully.

Fully awake, Aiden tries to open the door, saying that since Daddy can do it, so can he. Lando shakes his head, but helps him without Aiden noticing. The walk to the entrance was quiet, but as you got closer the crowd grew.

"Mummy." Your pant leg is tugged, seeing Aiden stop as he stares at the crowd of people yelling and taking pictures. "What's wrong little one?" Aiden looks between you and his Daddy, as Lando stands protectively in front of you two, hoping the cameras don't catch you just yet.

"Nothing, mummy. I'm strong, like daddy." You smile, but grab his hand making sure nothing would happen to your baby. "Let's go." Lando grumbles.

The moment one camera notices they all notice you 3, of course they all get far to close. One even shoves into you, something Lando can't see trying to keep them from squashing his little boy.

"HEY! Don't push my Mummy!" Aiden shoves the leg of the camera guy which has everyone stopping as they look down at the little boy shaking with tears in his eyes.

They all start to laugh, but stop when Lando snaps. "Get the fuck away from my family! RIGHT NOW!" Lando seethes, moving to pick Aiden up, holding him close.

You follow behind as Lando gets safely away from the cameras before setting Aiden down. "Hey....hey baby, what's wrong? Did they hurt you?" Lando going over every inch of his son, worry gripping his heart tight.

"They hurt mummy, one of them pushed mummy." Aiden's cheeks are red, it happened when he's angry. Fat tears roll down his cheeks as he starts to hiccup. "You always protect Mummy, and I couldn't." He cries rubbing his eyes.

Lando swears he feels his heart be ripped to shreds seeing his little baby like this. "Hey, hey. Aiden, don't cry alright. Mummy is okay, see and you did a great job protecting her. You let me know something was wrong. I'm so proud of you." Lando smiles wiping his sons tears away, taking off his hat and placing it on Aiden's head.

"Now you are like Daddy." Lando praises, making Aiden giggle. "How about I take you to visit your 2nd favorite person." Aiden looks up growing happy again as he starts to bounce.

"Uncle Los, Uncle Los, Uncle Los!" You roll your eyes, your sons attachment to his uncle was insane. Almost like beetlejuice, Carlos comes waltzing in.

"Aiden look." Pointing to Carlos as Aiden screams high pitched causing everyone to look, even Carlos. "UNCLE LOS!" Aiden screams running full force. Carlos laugh scooping up Aiden, who stares at the race suit.

"Don't even." Lando glares. "I didn't say anything." Carlos argues. "You're going to get him a mini Ferrari suit." Lando accuses and judging from the way Carlos looks away, Lando was right.

"Hello, Carlos." You smile as you kiss each other on the cheek. Aiden's tears gone, as he wiggles in Carlos's arms. "Uncle Los, I'm Daddy." Aiden point to the hat, Lando smirking proud of Aiden.

"That you are. Exact copy. Both toddlers." "HEY!" Lando yells grabbing Aiden and holding him close. "Insult the Norris's and you get no snuggles. Revoking your god-father duties." Walking away Aiden pouts.

"He's being protective again." Carlos groans hearing that, ever since Aiden was born, Lando didn't trust anyone to hold his son other than you two. Took a while for him to even trust Max and Charles to watch Aiden.

"Aiden protected me from a media dude that shoved me. Lando freaked when Aiden yelled for the guy to get away from me." You explain as you follow Lando who stops and lets McLaren Admin take pictures.

"On another note, you know he's going to want another kid right?" You groan which has Carlos laughing. You stop seeing as your two boys pose. Getting to the garage Lando has to change, wearing the same exact suit.

You smile watching the way Aiden lights up seeing his Daddy dressed like him. Yeah, maybe another one wouldn't be a bad idea

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader

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lustfulslxt · 12 days

Text

What Are We Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : after your steamy vacation, you and your step brother, chris, seemed to pretend nothing ever happened. that is, until you throw a party while your parents are away.

warnings : step sibling trope, spit kink, very slight breeding kink, choking, spanking, slight fingering, brief (f) oral, rough sex, etc

a/n : NOT INCEST SO GET OFF MY DICK AB THAT SHIT!!! they are not blood related in any way, so actually stfu thanks! this is also HIGHLY requested, so enjoy xx FYI i used tara’s pic bc that’s the inspo for readers outfit

—

It has been a few weeks since the little family vacation in which you and Chris had crossed certain boundaries in a profoundly sensual way. Neither of you have addressed it at all. When you woke up the next day, you were both dressed and on opposite ends of the bed. When he awoke, he didn’t say a thing about it. You assumed he was pretending it didn’t happen, so you did the same.

It’s been hard, actually. Knowing what he’s like in bed and how good he can pleasure you, has you thinking about it constantly. Though, you’ve never been bold enough to do something about it. Maybe you were just supposed to forget the whole thing.

So, you try your hardest. However, you can’t help the lingering glances on him any time he’s in your presence, the squeezing of your thighs when he brushes past you, the clenching of your core when he innocently touches you. Oh, how bad you want him to strip you of your clothes and make you tremble in euphoria.

Both of your parents are heading out the door, as they've planned a small getaway, kind of like a second honeymoon. Doing so, leaves you and Chris alone, once again.

The two of you had planned a party, and you're excited for it. Maybe you can finally get intoxicated and let loose, forgetting about the dooming fantasies you constantly have about your stepbrother.

Chris had arranged for the alcohol delivery, while you had sent out the memo. He had mentioned, earlier in the day, that the two of you should get the last-minute supplies you would need; solo cups, shot glasses, soda, and a variety of things to snack on.

You open your chapstick, twisting the wheel on the bottom to raise the stick of lubricant. As you apply the moisturizer to your plump lips, your bedroom door swings open. Upon looking up, you lock eyes with Chris who halts in place.

"Uh-" He starts, pausing as his eyes take in the sight of your lips rubbing the product in. "Are you ready to go?"

You hum, nodding your head as you slide your chapstick back in your purse. You stand up, slipping your feet into your slides, and pulling the strap of your purse over your shoulder. You look over at Chris, who hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

"What?" You quip, raising your eyebrow.

A slight smirk pulls to his lips as he looks you over, enjoying the way your shorts hug your plush thighs and the way your small baby tee shows off your perky tits.

"What kind of chapstick is that?" He asks.

Your eyebrows knit together, "Cherry."

He's suddenly standing directly in front of you, his eyes boring into your face. You can almost feel his breath on your skin.

"I bet it tastes good." He speaks, his voice slightly raspy and low in tone.

Before you can respond, he's flashing you a grin and turning around to make his way out. You stand there, watching his retreating figure, feeling butterflies swarm in your stomach at the simple interaction. If only you had the balls to act on your desires; he'd be under you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

You swallow the accumulating saliva in your mouth, and take a deep breath, following Chris out. He’s already making his way out the front door, so you follow in suit.

The ride to the store is silent, aside from his quiet music playing from his playlist. You can’t help the sneaky glances you throw his way, admiring the way he so effortlessly looks sexy. The way he manspreads in his seat, gripping the steering wheel with one hand. You find yourself clenching around nothing as your breathing gets a bit shallow.

To retain the last bit of dignity you have, you use everything in you to pull your eyes from him, forcing yourself to look out the window and watch the passing scenery.

Little do you know, Chris is struggling with the same thoughts as you. Every chance he gets, his eyes soak in the way you lick your lips, just imagining them wrapped around his cock. The way you shuffle in your seat makes him think about how you would move as you ride him. Your thick thighs rubbing together, he just wants to shove his face between them.

The two of you head into the store, Chris purposely behind you just to watch the way your ass jiggles as you walk. Every time you turn around to make sure he’s still following you, you’re met with a smirk from him. You bite back a smile and continue with the shopping, Chris following closely behind you.

After the two of you buy everything you need, you head back home to set it all up. Surprisingly, Chris is actually putting in effort and helping you with everything. You thought for sure you would have to do it all yourself.

“Can you hand me that remote?” He questions after putting the led lights up.

You grab the mini device and pass it to him, biting your inner cheek as his fingers grasp yours. You look up at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely audible.

“You’re just really pretty.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing.

Your heart practically skips a beat at his words, your stomach fluttering with butterflies. You know it’s wrong to even feel such a way with him, but you can’t help it.

You turn away with a slight blush on your cheeks, willing yourself not to smile like an idiot. Still, Chris can’t take his eyes off of you.

Everything about you drives him absolutely insane, and he just wants to have you again. But, despite his deep infatuation with you, he continuously shakes the never ending thoughts from his head, knowing it’s probably something he won’t be able to indulge in again.

While Chris makes sure the lights and surround sound are working, you walk through the house, making sure everything else is set up and in good condition. Everything valuable is tucked away, and furniture is moved out of the way for partygoers to maneuver with ease.

“Where are you going?” He questions as you head down the hall.

“Everything looks good, so I have to get ready.”

Without another word, you’re shutting yourself in your room. You immediately go for your closet in search of an outfit to wear. After a few moments of pondering, you pull it out and lay it on your bed.

You strip from the clothes you’re currently wearing, replacing them with what you picked out. You sit down at your vanity, ready to start your makeup and hair.

As you continue getting ready, you can hear people coming in and the music playing loudly throughout the house. It’s okay to be fashionably late to your own party. You want to take your time, making sure you look your absolute best. Maybe your plan is to tempt Chris, just so you can have him once again while your parents are away.

After finishing up, you stand in front of your mirror to observe your appearance. Satisfied, you leave your room to join the fun.

The lights are out around the house, glowing and flashing colors in place of them. The floor vibrates with the loud music, the atmosphere filling with it and chatter from everyone inside. There’s people piled on the makeshift dance floor, a few people occupying the sofa, and people scattered throughout the kitchen with drinks and snacks in hand.

You hate that your eyes are instantly searching for Chris. Tonight is supposed to be the night that you forget about him, but you can’t help it. Your actions and words contradict themselves, putting you in the biggest dilemma with your mind and body.

Coming up short in finding your stepbrother, you head to the kitchen to get a drink. There, you come across a few of your friends.

“Y/N!” Asia cheers, bringing the rest of their attention to you.

“Hey, you guys made it.” You smile, the four of you reciprocating hugs.

“Of course we did.” Liz chimes in, “You look absolutely killer by the way.”

You grin widely, giving them a twirl, “Thank you!”

Ash pours you a drink, handing it to you with a smirk on his face, “Who you tryna look good for?”

You and the two girls laugh as you shake your head, “Pleeease.”

The four of you continue drinking and chatting, catching up on things you’ve missed. Unfortunately for you, your mind is still stuck on Chris. You have yet to see him and it’s a bit of a bummer, but you’re forcing your feelings down with alcohol.

You’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had, simply enjoying the feeling of being intoxicated. It’s been quite some time since you were able to have fun like this with your friends, so you do your best to forget about Chris.

“Wanna dance?” Ash asks you, grabbing your hand.

You nod with a smile, letting him guide you to the crowd of dancers. Your relationship with him has always been different. You’ve never hooked up, and there aren’t any feelings, but you both get close and flirty. Maybe this would be a good time to get Chris’ attention.

Ash pulls you close, placing a hand on your back. You hold your cup in one hand, wrapping the other around his neck. You move sensually to the beat before turning around and placing your back against him. And as if the universe is working overtime, the second you do that, you lock eyes with Chris.

He’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread and a cup in his hand. He looks absolutely delicious with his black jeans, white long sleeve shirt with a black short sleeve layered on top, and his camouflage beanie.

His face is expressionless as he watches you dance with another man. He yearns to take his spot, being the one to dance with you like that. It’s torturous for him, not being able to be close with you in the way that he so desperately craves.

no matter what i do,

all i think about is you.

even when i’m with my boo,

boy, you know i’m crazy over you.

You sing the lyrics, mindlessly directing them at Chris as you hold each other’s eyes. His gaze trails over your entire body, turned on by your revealing outfit, yet furious at the thought of other guys eye fucking you the way he is.

He shuffles in his seat, adjusting his jeans at the crotch, already feeling a hard on coming in. He hates how easily you get him going, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it.

Watching as Ash’s hands roam your body, Chris brings his cup to his mouth and downs the harsh contents. It’s becoming unbearable for him to see you like this with someone else. He’s growing more and more frustrated, itching to put a stop to it.

So he does.

He gets up, walking over towards you. Your eyes widen the slightest bit, your head tilting up to look at him as he’s not directly in front of you.

“Beat it. I need to talk to her, kid.” Chris says, directing his sentence at Ash.

Ash lightly scoffs, “Can’t you do it when we’re done?”

“No. Get lost.”

Reluctantly, he does as Chris says, leaving the two of you alone in the crowd of people. Chris nods his head to the hall, silently telling you to lead the way. You make your way down the vacant hallway, Chris hot on your tail.

Just as you’re about to say something, he pulls you into his room and shuts the door.

“What are you wearing?” He asks, leaving you appalled.

“What?”

He throws his hand up, gesturing towards your dress. “What is this?”

You furrow your brows, completely flabbergasted, “Chris, what the fuck? It’s very obviously a dress.”

“Why are you acting dumb?” He questions, incredulously. “The fuck are you wearing it for?”

You roll your eyes and lean against his dresser, only for him to follow you. “It’s a party, I can wear whatever I want.”

“No you can’t.” He bluntly states, only to receive a blank stare from you. “Take it off.”

You choke on your saliva, your cheeks immediately flushing, “What?”

“You heard me.” He bites back, crossing his arms.

Despite your increasing heartbeat, you shake your head, “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? S’not the first time.” He casually shrugs.

Your heart stings a bit at his words, and you’re suddenly reminded of what happened last time. How he pretended nothing ever did.

“Exactly.” You mutter, looking away from him.

He feigns a pout, grasping your chin and turning your head back towards him. “Aw, are you upset that we didn’t wake up cuddling? That I didn’t buy you flowers and ask you to be my girlfriend?”

You forcefully push his hand away, now extremely aggravated with his taunting. Obviously, you know that’s entirely off the table. There’s not a single chance the two of you could work together, it’s simply unattainable.

“You don’t have to be a dick.” You tell him.

He smirks, “Then just let me give it to you.”

Your face heats up instantly at the thought, and even though you want it so bad, you feel as if you need to turn it down.

With a shake of your head, you simply decline, “No.”

“Oh, come on. I know how bad you want it. You think I don’t hear you moaning my name in your sleep? When you shower?”

You flush with embarrassment, putting your head down in an attempt to hide your humiliation.

“Kid, I’m not tryna make fun of you.” He gently speaks, “M’just saying you don’t need to lie to yourself.”

“Chris—“

“Shh.” He cuts you off, running his hand up your thigh. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his fingertips graze over the fabric of your underwear. Part of you wants to stop him, but an even bigger part of you never wants him to stop.

Guess which part wins.

You suddenly grab a handful of his shirt and yank him into you, your lips smashing together in a heated kiss. As cliche as it is, it feels like time has stopped the moment your lips meet. This is what both of you have been longing for since the last time you were like this.

Chris’ hands instantly wrap around you, engulfing your ass in a tight squeeze, pulling a low moan from you that he swallows with his kiss. Your tongues sensually dance together, gliding all around each other’s mouths.

Your hands run up his chest and around his head, pulling his beanie off and throwing it for access to his hair. Your fingers run through it, tugging at the strands, eliciting a groan from him.

The kiss is feverish and sloppy, showing how bad you’ve both been craving one another. Chris’ hands slide up your skirt, gripping your ass even tighter than before, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You’re both frantic with your movements, desperate to feel each other.

You walk him backwards to the bed, your lips and hands never leaving him once. Suddenly, he pulls away, his mouth moving to your neck as he tilts your head.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He groans against your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine.

You whine at his words and the way his mouth skillfully works on your sensitive skin. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding him flush against you as he sucks and nips at your throat.

You tug him back by his hair, your hands instantly dropping to the hem of his shirt. He helps you in removing it before doing the same to you, leaving you both topless. He groans at the sight of your bare chest, your perky tits sitting pretty just for him.

He takes them and squeezes them in his palms, your hard nipples rubbing against the center of his hands. You softly moan at the sensation, your hands gripping his biceps. Your skin burns beneath his touch, your center throbbing with need as your arousal soaks your panties.

“Been waiting forever for this.” He admits in a low voice.

You’re breathless from his touch, “What took you so long?”

“Wanted to see if you would cave first, but then I saw you dancing with that douchebag and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Your hands meet his belt, immediately undoing the buckle and pulling it from his jeans. He unbuttons his pants and kicks them off, leaving him in his boxers. Seeing his cock straining against the fabric, you’re eagerly dropping to your knees, only he stops you before you can get all the way down.

“Nuh uh.” He shakes his head, pulling you back up. “Get on the bed.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you oblige and crawl onto the bed, sitting on the back of your legs. Chris palms himself through his boxers as he watches you, licking his lips. He joins you on the bed, only behind you rather than in front of you like you’d thought.

You go to ask him what he’s doing, only he pushes your head down into the bed, arching your back as he pulls your ass up. Your heart thumps in your chest, your pussy clenching in anticipation.

He audibly groans at the sight of your skirt barely covering your ass, your wet panties on show. He reaches forward, pressing his thumb into the wet patch, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Always so wet for me, hm?” He teases.

You whine into the sheets, pushing your ass back for more friction, only to receive a loud smack in return. Your body jolts from the feeling, a stinging sensation running along your skin, before being soothed by his hand rubbing it out. His hands move to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down along with your underwear, tossing both aside.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He whispers, admiring the way your pussy glistens from behind.

He brings his hand up to you, dragging it through your folds. You can’t help but push back into him, eager for more. He tsks, spanking you once again, causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Never learn, do you?” He shakes his head, squeezing the plush skin. “Be patient, or you’re not getting shit.”

“M’sorry.” You whine, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

Suddenly, his mouth is on you, his tongue gliding between your wet folds. The sounds of your moans are muffled with your face buried in the bed. He continues to lap at your heat, shaking his head back and forth, his tongue repeatedly swiping over your clit. His mouth wraps around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it as he presses two fingers into your entrance.

“Oh my g-god.” You cry, your legs instantly twitching.

“Taste so fucking good.” He groans as he pulls away, his fingers pumping in and out of you at an extremely fast pace.

Your entire body feels ablaze as it’s wracked with pleasure. It takes merely seconds for your thighs to quiver and your toes to curl as your pussy squelches, your juices squirting out of you.

“Fuuuck.” You hear him mutter.

He pulls his hand away from you, taking his fingers in his mouth to clean them of your essence. Next, he’s grabbing the base of his cock and rubbing it in your folds to coat it in your arousal. He puts the tip at your entrance and slowly pushes forward, watching your pussy squeeze around him.

Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and he only gives you a split second to adjust to him in this new position, before he’s thrusting in and out of you. Your mouth parts, lewd moans falling from it as he pumps in and out of you in such a rough manner.

“Chris.” You gasp, feeling him continuously hit your sweet spot.

His thrusts are quick and deep, your walls gripping him tightly as he shoves in and out. His hands are placed on your waist to keep you upright as he drills into you. The coil in your stomach is twisting and twisting, your face scrunched in pleasure as you take him. A continuous ‘ah, ah, ah’ sound leaves your mouth with every stroke.

Chris bites his bottom lip, furrowing his brows in concentration as he tries not to bust right then and there. Just the sight of your pussy sucking him in is almost sending him over the edge.

His hand wraps around your hair, tugging you up into him. Your back meets his chest, your skin sticking together as he continues to fuck you. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your jaw is slack. Your baby hairs are slick against your forehead, and your face is flushed.

His hand pulls your mouth open a bit more, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes open just in time to see him spitting in your mouth, and you can’t help but clench around his cock as you swallow.

“So fucking sexy, baby.” He groans, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing.

Tears well up in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of him abusing your cervix. You fall back down, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Chris’ thrusts grow faster and harder, you walls going rigid around his cock.

The tightening in your stomach grows stronger before it snaps, and you’re cumming around his dick with a loud strung out moan. The pressure in your stomach soon dissipates as Chris helps your ride out your high. His thrusts fall sloppy as his orgasm sneaks up on him.

“M’bout to cum. Where do you want it?” He moans out.

“Inside.” You force out, clenching around him. “Please fill me up.”

His hips sputter at your words, and he groans as his cock twitches inside of you. “You’re so fucking nasty.”

He spews out a few curse words as he empties his load into you, painting your walls with his milky cum. He slowly pumps in and out of you a few more times, before pulling out altogether and falling beside you on the bed.

The two of you are left panting as you regather yourselves, knowing you have a house full of guests you need to tend to. You look over at him with a small grin, admiring the way his cheeks are flushed a rosy color, and the way his hair is sticking to his forehead.

Before sitting up, you lean over and hungrily kiss him as if you can’t get enough. You can’t. He moans into your mouth, before reluctantly pushing you away.

“Let’s get back out there before I fuck you again.” He forces out in a breath.

You sigh, nonetheless standing to redress yourself. You’ll have to clean up later. You both start putting your clothes back on. Then, he’s at the door waiting for you while you’re still looking for your panties.

“Chris! Where’s my underwear?” You ask.

“Hell if I know.” He shrugs, “Hurry up, we’ve been gone long enough.”

“Whose fault is that?” You retort as you look in the mirror, making sure you look presentable.

He smirks, smacking your ass as you walk out the door, “Yours for being so damn fine.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you swat his hand away. The moment you both enter the living room, you’re parting from each other in order to look casual as if he wasn’t just balls deep in you.

You search for your friends, finding them talking to each other against the counter.

“Y/N, where have you been? I’ve been searching everywhere for you?”

Before you can even think to come up with something, Ash is pulling you aside, “Are you okay, have you been crying?”

Your face heats up at that, clearing your throat, “No, yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares suspiciously at you for a moment before nodding. He goes to lead you back to the group and, only then, do you notice how drunk he is from the way he’s stumbling.

“Ash, what the fuck?” You mumble.

“Yeah,” Asia begins, “He’s had a lot to drink. Speaking of, um, you’re out of vodka now.”

Your eyes widen at that information. Before you can say anything, Chris has his arm around Ash, helping him stand up.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you some fresh air.” He says, guiding him to the front door.

You furrow your eyebrows as you watch him, before ultimately turning back to your friends to see what they’ve been up to.

Chris stops Ash at the door, turning him back to see you guys. He pats him on the back, before pointing over at you, “See your little friend over there? Yeah, Y/N. Wanna know something funny? That entire time you were talking to her, my kids were dripping down her thighs.”

Ash’s head snaps over to Chris, his eyes wide, “What?!”

“Yep. Should’ve seen her, begging me to fill her up.” Chris grins, taunting the guy.

“You’re not serious.”

Chris smirks, digging in his pocket. He pulls out your black lacy panties, dangling them in front of Ash’s face. Only then do you look back over them, and your jaw drops as the two look from your panties over to you, Chris with a sinister look in his eyes, Ash with eyes wide as saucers.

“Oh my fucking god.”

—

a/n : matt series nextttt!!

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