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scuderiahoney · 2 months

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Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri, roommates!au

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Summary: You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it. featuring dj!Lando for cece :) based on a blurb I wrote for my 1k celebration so if the first bit feels familiar that’s why! 7.4k words

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), illness, a breakup, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

Lando’s not expecting the phone call he gets from you. It’s late, too late, really, for him to even be awake, let alone for you to be calling. Oscar’s sitting on the couch next to him, gaming controller in hand, and when Lando swipes to answer the call, he mouths the words who is it? Lando mouths your name in reply, and Oscar’s half asleep flat expression turns into a look of concern. The three of you are roommates, but you’re gone for the night. Lando didn’t ask where you were going when you left.

“Hello?” He asks, waiting for your response.

There’s a sniffle, then a hiccupy gasp for air that has Lando sitting up straight in his seat. “Lan. Could you- fuck, m’sorry, just- d’you think you could pick me up?”

Lando stares widely at Oscar for a moment, heart clenching in his chest. You sound upset- more than upset, really. He stands up, already searching frantically for his keys.

“Yeah, love, of course,” he says as Oscar follows suit and stands up. “Should I bring Oscar?”

You sniffle again. “Yeah, please, just…”

“It’s okay. Send me your location, yeah? Take a deep breath, we’ll be there soon.”

You mumble something, and then you hang up on him. Lando shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up at Oscar, who’s holding the keys to his car. That works. Oscar heads for the door, while Lando makes a pit stop in the kitchen. When he meets his friend in the entryway, Oscar’s staring at him with confusion.

“She’s crying,” Lando says in explanation, holding a paper bag close to his chest.

They make it across town in record time. Oscar groans when they pull into the apartment complex you’d sent the location of.

“Isn’t this her boyfriend’s place?” He asks, brows furrowed.

Lando doesn’t get a chance to answer, because you step out of the front door, and they’re both distracted. Oscar swears under his breath, and Lando follows suit at the sight of you- you’re in a t-shirt and shorts. There’s snow on the ground. Oscar pulls his hoodie over his head just before you make it to the car door.

You climb into the backseat and collapse in on yourself. Both Lando and Oscar are turned towards you, and Lando’s sure their facial expressions are matching looks of concern. They both hand over their items without a word- Oscar’s hoodie, and Lando’s carton of ice cream and a spoon. You pull the hoodie over your head and open the ice cream.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Oscar says, voice low.

Lando nods. “Yeah. We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”

You nod and chew on your lower lip, and the light from the street lamp outside catches on the tear tracks on your cheeks. “He dumped me. Can we just go home?”

Lando reaches his hand back to squeeze yours. Your fingers are ice cold. “Of course,” he says softly.

As Oscar pulls away, he and Lando exchange a look of worry and anger. They’ve never liked your boyfriend, but they hate to see you hurting, too.

“Thanks,” you add, voice small in the backseat. You hold onto Lando’s hand tightly. “I knew I could count on you guys.”

Lando squeezes your hand again. You’re quiet most of the way back, and he lets it go. Oscar’s right to not push you to talk about it. That’ll come in its own time.

Oscar drives back to your shared apartment, pulling into a parking space in the garage. He gets out before Lando and slips around to the backseat, opening the door for you. The Aussie wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

When you all get upstairs, you collapse onto the couch. Lando follows suit, not wanting to leave your side. Oscar isn’t far behind. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, something quiet that Lando doesn’t pay attention to. He just watches you for signs of distress. You stare at the tv blankly and chip away at the ice cream with your spoon, leaning on Oscar as Lando leans on you. Slowly, the three of you melt into the couch, none of you wanting to break the silence and suggest going to bed.

…..

Oscar wakes up on the couch at 3 in the morning, and when he looks around, this awful feeling hits him. It’s like someone’s reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. You’re laying there, your head on his stomach, one of your arms over his thigh. Lando’s laying nearly on top of you- together, the three of you are like a stack of toppled dominoes. There are blankets strewn over all of you. Oscar can vaguely remember Lando’s attempt to cover all three of you up as you all began to drift off.

You’re fast asleep, and when Oscar peers down at you he can still see the tear tracks on your cheeks. He’s never liked your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, now, thank god- but breakups are awful no matter what. He’s got half a mind to go over and confront the guy, because who leaves their girlfriend- ex girlfriend- to walk out of their apartment in the dead of winter in a t-shirt and shorts? Even if you had broken up, he seemingly hadn’t given you the chance to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. Or maybe you hadn’t wanted to stay long enough.

Lando shifts in his sleep, pressing closer to you. It’s only now that Oscar notices Lando’s hand linked with yours, fingers knitted together on your stomach. A pang of something flares up in him at the sight, at how right it feels to have you both right here like this. He does his best to tamp it down. He brushes his fingers against your cheek tentatively, relaxing just a bit at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.

You nudge into the touch, eyelids just barely fluttering. Oscar wonders to himself how anyone could ever let you go. The sight of you in the backseat, teary eyed in his hoodie, is burned into the back of his brain. He’d do anything to keep you from ever crying again.

When he wakes up again, it’s much later in the morning. You and Lando are both gone, and something about that makes his heart clench. But he hears noise in the kitchen- Lando, talking to someone, the sound of food sizzling on the stove. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes before trudging his way over there.

Lando’s at the stove, cooking something that smells awfully delicious and makes Oscar’s stomach growl. You’re sitting on the counter nearby the way you always do, still in Oscar’s hoodie, hands folded in your lap. You’re the first one to spot him- you smile, but it’s subdued. There’s a tinge of sadness to it. Something aching behind your eyes.

“Morning,” he finally says.

Lando turns over his shoulder with a smile. “I was just about to send her to wake you,” he says. “I made breakfast.”

Oscar nods. “Thanks. Smells really good.”

He takes his normal spot on a stool at the kitchen island. He passes by both of you on the way there, and you reach out to squeeze his upper arm. He brushes a hand over your knee and smiles at you.

You’re quiet. Usually, you’d be chatting their ears off. But Lando plates up the food and distributes it without a word from you, and it has Oscar feeling sick to his stomach. You stay sitting on the counter, and you push the food around on your plate with one hand. Lando sits next to Oscar and exchanges a look with him.

Both boys clear their plates without a word from you. You’ve only taken a few bites. Oscar clears his throat as he clears his and Lando’s plates. Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

“I stand by what I said last night. We don’t have to talk,” he says. “But if you want to talk, we’re here.”

You shift and smile just a little. “Not much to talk about, really. The breakup has been coming for a long time, I think. So. It’s fine, really. Just weird, you know? We’d been dating for a year- that’s a year of my life… not wasted, but. Weird to lose someone like that so quickly.”

Both Oscar and Lando nod in understanding. You nod back. That’s that. If you don’t want to talk about it more, they won’t force you. It’s enough to know you’re safe at home, really.

…..

When Lando has his first DJ set after your break up, he begs you to come and watch. Much to his and Oscar’s surprise, you agree eagerly. They’d both thought it would be a harder fight. Lando’s been getting bigger and bigger DJ gigs- not enough to quit his day job yet, but enough to get excited about. You haven’t been to them recently, which had been a bit of a sore spot for Lando, though he’d tried not to let it on to you. So. If you want to go, he’s not going to question you on it.

On the way there, you size him up in the back of the Uber. You tug at the collar of his shirt.

“You’re too buttoned up,” you say, nose wrinkled.

Oscar laughs and nods. “Yeah, lose a button,” he adds.

He reaches over and undoes the top button of Lando’s shirt with nimble fingers, and great, now Lando’s sweating.

“Or two,” you chime in.

When you reach up and undo another button, Lando thinks the blush must be obvious on his cheeks now. It’s probably running down his neck, washing over his chest, just like the soft touch of your fingers against his skin.

“Why not three?” Oscar says, smirking.

Before he can undo the third one, Lando bats Oscar’s hand away and glares at him. Oscar’s had a shot before they left the apartment, pregaming because he hates crowds and loud places and social environments. He’s definitely a little tipsy, and because of that, he’s a bit more daring. It’s going to be the death of Lando.

By the time he’s halfway through the set, Lando’s gone and lost both of you in the crowd. He won’t lie, it makes him a bit nervous. He knows you were there one second, and then the next time he looked, you were both gone. He knows in his head Oscar won’t have let you out of his sight, but it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching. He thinks of his phone, down under the stage, itches to have it in his hand so he can text or call or find you, somehow.

When he finally climbs down and grabs his phone, it’s lit up with a bunch of notifications. He swipes past the ones from Max asking how late his set goes, past the ones from friends who stopped by, telling him how good he did. In the middle, there’s a text from Oscar.

Call when you’re done.

He calls. When Oscar answers, he gives him directions to meet the two of you in a bathroom and then promptly hangs up. Lando would be more concerned with the two of you apparently hiding out together in a bathroom if Oscar hadn’t told him about it. He doesn’t have the energy to let himself get jealous. He just heads towards the two of you. He knocks on the single bathroom door, calls out to Oscar, and it swings open.

“She had a little too much,” Oscar says.

Behind him, you’re kneeling next to the toilet, Oscar’s jacket underneath your knees. It’s such a sweet touch that it makes Lando’s heart ache- there’s just something about seeing Oscar taking care of you. But he does his best to focus and steps into the bathroom. Your hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Your skin is pale, and when you turn to look at Lando, your eyes are bloodshot. He hisses and turns to Oscar.

“I know, I know, I said I’d watch her-“ Oscar says, raising his hands defensively. “She’s good at pretending to be sober. Until she’s way too far gone, and then…”

“Lan!” you call out, high pitched and wobbly. “I love you.”

Lando widens his eyes at Oscar, who nods.

“There’s been a lot of that. About both of us. She was not happy when I pulled her out of sight of you.” Oscar sighs. “I can’t figure out if it’s just- you know, she loves her friends, or-“

Oscar trails off. Lando furrows his brows.

“Lan,” you repeat again, and he turns over his shoulder to look at you, then tries not to visibly wince. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, love,” he says, softly. “You done throwing up, you okay to move?”

You shrug, then nod. Great. Not super convincing. When he turns to Oscar, he winces. Lando drags a hand down his own face. Interrogating Oscar will have to wait- the first priority is to get the three of you out of there, hopefully without you throwing up on them. He sighs heavily and makes a plan in his head.

Lando’s not sure what god he pleased, what good karma he’s earned, but the three of you make it outside without you throwing up again. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then he and Oscar spend 5 minutes debating on whether walking or getting a ride would be better- you’re drunk and wobbly, but at least if you threw up, it’d be on the sidewalk. Oscar hates that idea, is worried about you tripping and falling on the way, about how they’ll manage to get you all the way back. You stand there and watch them argue, Oscar’s hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over.

“Boys, stop fighting,” you say hazily. “You’re both so pretty.”

Lando’s eyes go wide at that. He stares at Oscar, who seems to make a face that says I know. Lando turns to you. You’re smiling widely up at him, blinking glassy eyes and tilting your head. You reach out and tap your fingertip against his nose, then laugh. Lando swallows tightly.

Oscar uses his distraction to flag down a cab. Lando can’t find the energy to argue anymore. They’d normally put you in the middle, but this time they sit you next to the door, just in case you do need to throw up. You spend the entire ride with your head on Lando’s shoulder, and he can tell you’re starting to get drowsy just from the way you sag against him. When they climb out of the car, Oscar puts one of your arms over his shoulder, and Lando does the same on the other side.

By the time they get you up to the apartment and into the bathroom, you’re half asleep, leaning heavily on both of them. When your hand slips against the bare skin of his chest, he swallows tightly. Oscar puts toothpaste on the toothbrush for you, and Lando helps you brush your teeth, his hand wrapped around yours gently.

Then they head for your bedroom. Lando grabs you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from your dresser. He sets them on the bed and gets ready to leave the room so you can change, and then slaps his hand over his eyes when you start to take off your dress before he even gets the chance. He hears Oscar’s hand hit his own face, too.

“We live together,” you say, and Lando can practically hear your eye roll. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Lando sighs. “It is, and you’re drunk, so.”

You laugh. “I guess. I’m dressed now.”

Lando groans when he uncovers his eyes and spots the pair of shorts still on the bed. He puts one hand over Oscar’s eyes, one back over his own, and says, “Shorts. Now.”

You grumble something about taking them off later anyways, which has Lando melting into a puddle over the thought. He hears you shuffling around, and then you grab both of his wrists and tug them away from his and Oscar’s faces. You’re fully dressed this time, and you collapse backwards onto the bed.

“Will you guys stay till I fall asleep?” you ask, softly.

Both of them nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. You curl up in the middle, each of them on either side. Oscar lays a tentative hand on your shoulder, while Lando brushes hair from your face. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, melting into the bed.

When you do, Lando nods silently towards the door. Oscar nods in agreement, and they both slip out of the bedroom. Lando looks back to check on you as he shuts the door. You look peaceful, finally.

Oscar heads for the kitchen, and Lando follows. He reaches into the fridge and comes back with two cans of sparkling water, which Lando accepts eagerly. He’d been unaware of just how thirsty he was until that moment. He drinks half the can in one go and then looks at Oscar expectantly.

“I don’t know,” Oscar prefaces. “I’m not sure about anything. But. She couldn’t stop staring at you up on the stage, and she told me about ten times how pretty you were. And then she said it about me, too. To my face. And like, right after that she threw up, but.”

“But,” Lando repeats. “You saw something. Different than her just being a drunk mess.”

“It felt different,” Oscar says, softly. “Just. I can’t explain it.”

Lando nods. He presses his lips into a thin line. Oscar follows suit, rubbing his hand against the smooth surface of the countertop.

“What do we do?” Lando asks quietly. He feels wildly out of his depth here. “I mean. D’you think she has feelings for…”

Me? You? Lando’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be either. Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. In an ideal world, he knows what he’d like to happen here, but that’s a pipe dream. Unrealistic.

“She’s really vulnerable,” he says, before Oscar can even answer. “And like. That would really make a good roommate situation weird, right?”

Oscar laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. So. We just let it go.”

Oscar nods. There’s something in the look on his face that makes Lando think maybe there’s more to this. That they shouldn’t brush it off so easily. But it’s late, and he’s exhausted, and this topic feels so, so difficult to broach right now. So he claps Oscar on the shoulder with an open palm, and then disappears into his bedroom.

Lando’s avoidance of the subject doesn’t last long, because the next morning, before you wake up, Oscar corners him in the kitchen.

“We need to talk,” Oscar says, which is never a good sentence to hear at any hour, let alone before the sun has even risen.

Realistically, he should’ve known this was coming, because Oscar never willingly wakes up this early on a weekend. It’s still dark outside. Lando can barely make out Oscar’s facial expressions in the dim light. He flicks a light switch and watches the other man wince.

“Rude,” Oscar grumbles.

“Yeah, that’s what you get for starting off my morning with that sentence,” Lando defends. When Oscar frowns, he softens. “What’s up?”

As if he hadn’t expected to actually get to this point, Oscar shrinks in on himself. Lando leans against the counter and tilts his head. Oscar’s younger, but he’s usually the more mature one. It’s odd to see him so lost for what to say.

“Last night,” Oscar starts, chewing on his lip when he pauses. “She- I- I can’t stop thinking about…”

Lando’s gut wobbles. “About her. You like her. And you think she feels the same.”

There’s this weird jealousy in his chest. He’s jealous of both of you, he realizes, and he grips the counter behind him with his hand. He wants to be the one you like, and he wants to be the one Oscar’s into, too. He’s known it for a while, really, but this is the first time he’s had to confront it head on. And it’s - it’s a problem, probably. His best friends and his roommates. He can’t have both. Can’t have it all.

Oscar frowns and shakes his head. “No. Well. Yeah, but- it’s more than that. It’s.”

Lando tamps down the ache in his chest, plasters on a smile. “Oscar. It’s okay.”

“No,” Oscar says, dragging out the sound. “You don’t- you don’t get it.”

“You guys would make a cute couple,” Lando says quietly. “Like. Really, Osc, you’d be good together-“

“I don’t just want her,” Oscar interrupts, and Lando's heart skips a beat. “I don’t- fuck, it sounds crazy, but. I woke up that morning, after we picked her up, and you were both on the couch with me, and I just thought, yeah, this is how I want to wake up every day. And if that’s crazy then- forget I said anything, but-“

Lando clears his throat. “It’s not crazy.”

Oscar freezes, one hand halfway through his hair. “It’s not?”

Lando shakes his head and bites his lip. “No. I think I’ve been feeling the same. Just… I felt crazy, you know?”

Oscar nods. Lando can’t stop staring at him, at the red flush on his cheeks, the wide eyes. He reaches his foot out and nudges it against Oscar’s shin.

“I meant what I said last night, about her being vulnerable,” he says, and Oscar sighs heavily. “She needs friends right now. And she doesn’t need friends who are caught up in figuring out their feelings for each other and maybe her, too.”

Oscar huffs. “So we just…”

“Wait and see?” Lando asks sheepishly. “Feels shitty, I know, but our first priority is making sure she’s okay.”

Oscar nods. Lando nods back. And that’s that, for a while. And maybe for a while, it’s enough to know that Oscar feels it, too. To know he’s not alone.

…..

You know Lando well enough to know he’s not one to admit when he’s sick. You’d think he’d be the exact opposite, but he tends to try and tough it out until the very last minute. He hides it well, except when it comes to you and Oscar.

He’s getting ready for a DJ set nearly a month after the one where you’d gotten far too drunk. There’s loud music playing through the apartment as he eats dinner, dancing along to the beat. You sit on the kitchen counter in your usual spot, and Oscar stands next to you. You’re both watching Lando bounce around the room. He’s trying to convince you he’s fine without actually saying it. It’s not working.

He leaves the room for a moment, looking for his phone. Oscar looks up at you.

“He’s sick, isn’t he?” He asks.

You nod and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “Definitely.”

But Lando says nothing about not feeling well, so you do your hair and makeup and get into an Uber with him and Oscar to head for a club. You and Oscar exchange a glance when Lando presses his forehead to the window of the car. He’s mumbling along to the song that’s playing over the speakers. There’s sweat on his temple. You’re starting to worry.

He tumbles out of the car and into the club with you and Oscar in tow. Once the bright lights and loud music hit him, he perks up a bit. If you know him, you know it won’t last. He’s going to wear himself out during his set and then fall apart right after. He sends the two of you to the bar, tells you to put it on his tab. Oscar loops his hand in your arm to keep you close- you’re not complaining. Without saying anything to each other, you each order plain Cokes. Lando won’t question if there’s alcohol in it. You order him his go to drink- a gin & tonic, but ask the bartender to go light on the gin. You hand it off to him before he heads up for his set, and when he hesitates to kiss your cheek like he normally would, you eye him carefully.

“I’m fine,” he says, which tells you more than anything that he’s definitely not fine.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. You press the back of your hand to Lando’s forehead and sigh. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. He’s burning up.

“It’s a short set,” he says, slurred but loud enough to be heard over the thud of the bass. “I’ll be fine.”

You watch as he walks away. Oscar takes your arm in his hand again, pulls you away to a nearby booth. Normally, you love watching Lando’s sets, love listening to the music he’s chosen, and watching his face light up at the crowd’s reaction. But now, as he takes his place, you just feel worried. You can tell Oscar’s worried too, just from the way he drums his fingers against the table in an unsteady pattern. Normally the two of you would find yourselves out on the dance floor, especially when Lando plays the songs he knows you both love, but you can’t find it in you tonight.

When he stumbles off stage from his set, he’s grinning ear to ear, but his eyes are half closed and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin that you know isn’t from the dj-ing. You and Oscar stand to meet him, and you brush damp curls from his forehead to check his temperature again. He feels even worse. Oscar winces as Lando sways in front of the two of you.

“Let's get you home,” you suggest, and he just nods.

When you get back to the apartment, you deposit Lando on the couch. Oscar stays with him, pulling a blanket over Lando and propping him up with pillows. You head for the bathroom first and open the medicine cabinet.

“Lan, what’s wrong?” You call out.

You hear his disoriented grumbling. Oscar translates. “He says he’s fine.”

You lean out into the living room and fix Lando with a glare. “Shut up. You need medicine. What’s wrong?”

He sighs and sinks into the couch. “Sore throat. Headache. Little bit of a cough.”

You nod and return to the surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet. You grab the cold medicine that describes his symptoms the best and head back to the living room. Lando has the blanket wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, and he has his head resting on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s running his hand up and down Lando’s upper arm, a look of concern on his face.

You hand Oscar the medicine. “Here. Give him a dose, will you? I’m gonna heat up some soup or something.”

“M’not a baby,” Lando mutters.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Oscar teases gently.

Though the medicine cabinet was well stocked, the kitchen is less so. None of you like grocery shopping. You manage to find a can of chicken soup in the back of a cupboard, and it’s not expired, so you heat it up quickly. You return to the living room with the soup and a large glass of water.

Lando is fully tucked into Oscar’s side now, draped messily across the other boy. You sigh at the sight, at the way Oscar runs his hand through Lando’s hair, at the content little smile on Lando’s lips. Even when he’s sick, this is enough to bring him comfort. You wonder, then, if you could be enough, too. The memories pass through your brain- the way they’ve both taken care of you after your break up. Now it’s your chance to return the favor.

You sit down on the couch on Lando’s other side. Oscar takes the bowl of soup from you carefully, and then you hold the glass of water up to Lando’s lips. He sips carefully, then pulls away with a soft sigh. His cheeks are rosy red, and he shivers. You and Oscar both wince in sympathy.

“You should’ve told us,” Oscar says, quietly. “Should’ve canceled the set.”

Lando shrugs and elbows him lightly. “Got through it, didn’t I? Can’t go around canceling sets if I’m gonna make it big, can I?”

You roll your eyes and nudge the Brit slightly. “Your health is more important than you making it big,” you chide.

He turns to look at you, gaze hazy but still amused. “Mm. You won’t be saying that when I’ve got enough money to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.”

“Is that your plan?” Oscar asks, a teasing tone in his voice.

Lando closes his eyes and nods. “You two can be my sugar babies,” he asserts. “Never work another day in your life.”

“Okay, Norris,” you say, biting back a laugh. “Eat your soup.”

He does as he’s told, melting back into the couch as he holds the bowl and spoon in shaky hands. Oscar keeps his hands on the bowl, too, just to be safe. To show your support, you lean against Lando’s shoulder to help prop him up. As much as you hate to see him not feeling well, you think that maybe you could get used to this.

You tuck him into his bed later that night. Oscar’s next to you, having carried him into the bedroom from the living room. Lando was pretty much dead weight, high on cold medicine and his fever and so, so out of it. You pull the covers up to his chin and smooth sweaty hair from his forehead. You cringe at the clammy feeling, and Oscar laughs.

Lando blinks up at both of you with heavy eyes. “Meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?” You ask.

He lets his eyelids fall closed. “Gonna take care of you two. The same way you take care of me. I think abou’ it all the time.”

He yawns, turns his head, and falls asleep nearly immediately after that, lips barely parted, chest rising and falling smoothly. You feel frozen for a moment. He looks so peaceful. He wants to take care of you. Your heart is pounding.

Oscar wraps his hand around your elbow and squeezes softly. “He’ll be okay.”

He thinks you’re worried. You don’t know how to tell him that Lando being sick isn’t the problem. The what’s got you all mixed up inside is the way Lando says it so easily. Never work another day in your life. I think about it all the time.

You swallow and back away from the bed, because you have the strongest urge to crawl right in next to him and drag Oscar right with you, until you’re all curled up in a pile together. You can’t do that. Oscar leads you out to the living room. You think he knows something’s up, because he doesn’t let go of you the whole time, but he doesn’t say anything either. You need to shake this feeling. You can’t think about them like this. It won’t end well.

“I’ll make us some popcorn, yeah?” Oscar suggests. “We can watch Bake Off.”

You nod as you make your way over to the couch. You try to tell yourself you should keep your distance, should sit far away from him. But when he sits down and pulls you into his chest, you can’t help but sigh happily.

“When we inevitably catch whatever he has,” you say, “we’re gonna need more chicken noodle soup.”

…..

Oscar comes home from work one day a few weeks later, and finds the two of you in the living room- a pretty normal occurrence lately. You’re laid out on the couch, your ankles in Lando’s lap. You smile up at him happily, and he laughs. He’s glad to see you, honestly, both of you. He’s had a rough day. This is exactly what he needed to come home to.

“Comfy?” He asks.

You nod eagerly. “We saved some pizza for you. It’s in the kitchen.”

He snorts. “Gee. Thanks. Couldn’t wait till I got home?”

You pout up at him. “I was hungry.”

Lando nods in agreement. “She was being whiny, Osc, had to feed her.”

“I’m gonna shower,” he says, leaning over to ruffle your hair. You press into the touch, like a cat. “And then I’ll have dinner.”

“Ooh, take a shower beer,” you suggest.

Lando laughs. “I was gonna say the exact same thing.”

Without even thinking, Oscar leans over the couch and kisses both of your foreheads. “Geniuses, the both of you.”

Neither you or Lando seem to question it, or the blush on his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try to explain.

By the time he finishes showering, and finishes his shower beer, a bit of the stress has melted away. He sighs heavily when he steps out, towel dries his hair, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He eats a slice of pizza, cold, in the kitchen.

When he makes it back to the living room, you’re curled up in Lando’s arms, halfway in his lap. He grumbles, not even realizing he’s making the noise until you look up at him. You throw one arm out wide, beckoning him close. Lando looks up with a happy, soft smile and pats the open space on his chest. And really, Oscar’s had a shit day, and the spot between Lando’s jaw and chest looks quite cozy, and if he’s being invited, then-

He collapses into the two of you, slips his arm around you and presses the side of his face to Lando’s chest. Oscar takes a deep breath, smells Lando’s cologne and your perfume, the intoxicating mix of both of you, and closes his eyes. He feels someone’s finger drag down the slope of his nose, and another hand brushes his hair from his forehead.

“Bad day?” You ask.

He’s exhausted, and everything is a bit hazy feeling. Syrupy and slow. He could fall asleep like this, probably. You sound a million miles away, and also like you’re tucked away in his chest, like he’d like for you to always be. Close and protected.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really bad day.”

A thumb brushes over his cheek. There’s a hand in his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He lets out a fluttering sigh.

“Poor baby,” you say. He thinks the hand on his face is yours, the hand in his hair, Lando’s. “We just gotta wait for Lan to make it big, yeah? ‘nd then me and you can be his sugar babies, let him pay for everything. Just like he promised.”

Oscar laughs and rubs his cheek against Lando’s chest in some sort of nod. He can feel Lando laughing, too, high pitched and breathless. His hand squeezes at your hip, where it landed when he sat down.

“I’d take such good care of the two of you,” Lando says, quietly.

Oscar knows how much truth the words hold, and suddenly his stomach aches with want. Because Lando already takes care of both of you and him any way he can, and Oscar does it for you and Lando, too, and they both wish they could do it even more so. Could kiss away your tears, could hold your hand when you cross the street. He wants it. So does Lando.

“You already do,” you say, even quieter.

Oscar feels Lando’s breath hitch in his chest. He opens one eye and finds your eyes closed, your hand pressed to his cheek. Lando’s hand, banded around Oscar’s back, squeezes softly. Oscar holds his breath.

You shrug, like you know they’re watching without even opening your eyes.

“You both do,” you add. “Picked me up when I called, checked on me ever since…” you sigh and bury your face deeper into Lando’s chest. Oscar reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand tentatively. “Couldn’t ask for more.”

Even on the worst of days, Oscar thinks that maybe you’re right. He couldn’t ask for more. He’s got everything right here.

…..

A few nights later, Lando wakes up to the creak of the door, and his eyes fly open. He turns to look and finds you standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Love?” Lando asks, quietly. It’s the dead of night. “You alright?”

You shrug and sigh. “Can we cuddle?”

He blinks and nods, wonder fleetingly if he should go and get Oscar, because this feels unfair, but- then you step backwards, walking away. You must want to go to your bed, must feel more comfortable there. Lando slips out of his bed, takes his phone with him, and follows after you. His confusion grows when you don’t stop at the door to your bedroom. You walk right past and head for Oscar’s room. You open the door, and Lando looks past you to the warm glow of the lamp Oscar always forgets to turn off, to his sleeping form.

“You’re easier to wake up,” you say, softly.

Lando blinks wildly as you trudge your way over to the bed. “Love?”

“Want cuddles,” you state as you climb into the bed next to Oscar, who’s snoring softly. “From both of you. Come on.”

And, well. You should probably all talk about this, really. But you’re already tucking yourself under the blankets, and Oscar looks cute, and Lando’s so, so tired, and he wants cuddles, too, so. He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. You grin and roll towards Oscar, who finally shifts awake at the motion.

“Hi?” He says, confused, sleep coating his voice.

You don’t bother to explain, just slip an arm around him and curl close. Lando sits down on the edge of the bed and makes eye contact with Oscar, who seems frozen between confusion and happiness.

“She wanted cuddles,” Lando explains. “From both of us. I’m easier to wake up, apparently.”

Oscar shrugs and nods. He rolls towards you and throws his arm over your middle. His fingers motion towards Lando, who breathes a sigh of relief. Sure, they’ve talked, but there was always a chance Oscar changed his mind, or that this would be weird. But, if he’s offering…

Lando crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh when he lays down next to you, and he can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. He slips his arm around you, his skin brushing against Oscar’s, too. Oscar presses a kiss to your forehead. Lando bites back a flare of jealousy, and he’s not even sure which one of you he’s jealous of. Then Oscar brushes his fingertips against his bicep, a soft, gentle touch that reminds him he’s part of this, too. Lando kisses the back of your neck and closes his eyes, already sleepy again.

…..

When Oscar wakes up the next morning, you and Lando are still in his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief at that, having been worried one of you would wake up and panic and leave. He watches the two of you for a few moments before he lets his eyes slip closed again. The weight of your head on his chest is comforting, and the soft rise and fall of Lando’s ribs under his hand is even more so. It’s rare that he’s awake before either of you unless he has to be up early.

He opens one eye again, just to look, just to take it in. Lando’s head is pressed against your shoulder, the top of his forehead and his mass of curly hair just visible to Oscar. He could get used to this. He’d like to wake up like this all the time, the three of you all wrapped up together. And maybe that’s wishful thinking, but for at least one morning, he gets to have it.

If he wasn’t so worried he’d wake you up and spoil the moment, he’d trace the lines of your face with his fingertips and draw patterns on your shoulders. He’d do it to Lando, too- shove his tank top up until he could touch the bare skin of his ribs, run his fingers over the bumps. But he wants this to last as long as possible, so he just lays there and stares.

Eventually, you start to stir, and with you, so does Lando. It’s strange, the way it makes Oscar’s heart clench in his chest. He wants so badly for both of you to just stay right here, with him. If he could hold you both in his arms like this forever he would.

When you open your eyes, you smile softly at him. Lando shifts behind you and opens one eye, and the same soft smile slips across his lips. You press yourself farther into Oscar, and reach a hand behind you to pull Lando close.

“My boys,” you say, quietly. “My favorite boys.”

And. That’s when it hits Oscar, like a punch to the chest. There’s something in the way you say it, something about the look on your face. He just knows. He knows because he sees it in himself, in Lando. He doesn’t need to talk about it right this second, doesn’t need to ask. He just knows you feel it too. So he leans up and over, hears the way Lando’s holding his breath. He moves his hand and presses his lips to your cheek, to your warm, soft skin. Then he does the same to Lando. You smile even wider. Lando, not one to be left out, does the same to you, then Oscar, leaving his skin burning. You follow suit, and your lips are warm against Oscar’s jaw. He thinks maybe he’s in heaven.

The three of you fall back asleep in a tighter pile, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. There’ll be time to talk later. For now, it’s enough to just know.

…..

A month later, you’re in the front of the crowd at Lando’s DJ set, watching with wide, bright eyes. He has three buttons undone, the work of you and Oscar during the car ride over to the club. He’s grinning down at you as someone hands him a shot, and then he tosses it back with a grimace. You wonder if he sees the stars in your eyes as you look up at him.

Oscar’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He has a drink in his other hand- your drink, taken from your own grip when you started moving your hands to the music. His nose is pressed behind your ear, and when he speaks, his breath tickles against your skin and makes you shiver.

“Y’know, he said he’d take care of us,” Oscar says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but just barely. “But all I can think of right now are all the ways I wanna take care of him.”

You laugh, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s the unbuttoned shirt,” you tell him, gesturing at your other boyfriend. “S’like kryptonite.”

Never mind the fact that the shirt’s only unbuttoned because of the two of you. Oscar laughs and squeezes his arm around your middle. Lando tilts his head at the two of you, like he knows exactly what you’re up to.

“Yeah,” Oscar agrees. “But that’s less buttons for us to deal with later.”

You nod in agreement. “Good point.”

When Lando’s shirt is laying on the floor later, next to Oscar’s shirt and your dress, and you’re all slumped together on the bed in a pile, you remember what Oscar said earlier and laugh. Neither of them bother to ask what you’re laughing about. They just kiss your cheeks and join in with laughter of their own.

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1 (if your blog is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!)

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yandere-daydreams · 5 months

Text

tw - modern!au, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, nonconsensual touching, and stalking. written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

“I’ve been thinking about us, again.”

He was barely trying to whisper, his voice loud enough to earn several pointed looks from the people around you. You’d tried to put yourself at a distance from the rest of the class, to sit in a deserted corner of the near-empty lecture hall, but he wouldn’t have cared if you were in the first row. That was something you’d had to learn quickly about him – Kunikuzushi was shameless at the best of times, actively vitriolic at the worst. Your public humiliation wasn’t just a pleasant side-effect of his company, but an active goal he was striving towards during every minute you spent together.

“You don’t have to look so worried – if I was going to break up with you, you’d know.” You kept your eyes trained on the lecturer, your expression schooled to practiced disinterest, but his voice lulled like you’d broken into tears. You felt him shift that much closer to you – his thigh pressing into yours. “I just don’t think we spend enough time together. I know, I know, we’re both busy, but still. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You were. Just last week, you’d spent two hours locked in your bedroom closet – lights off and knees pulled into your chest – because Kuni had somehow gotten your address and decided it would be a good use of his time to loiter on your doorstep and refuse to leave until you came out. You planned your day-to-day schedule meticulously to make sure it would never bleed into his, went out of your way not to have to go where you knew he would be, but there was only so much you could do to get away from someone willing to blow off his classes and skip work just to spend the better part of a day sending you candid pictures from one of his countless burner phones. You could only be thankful he was too caught up in his own delusions to ever let his obsession turn violent. Lashing out at you for never acknowledging whatever relationship he thought you were in would be akin to admitting you didn’t have a relationship at all, he would never do that.

He took up your hand, his fingers soon intertwined with yours. You tried, weakly, to pull away from him, but he only let out a breathy chuckle, his head soon resting on your shoulder. Compared to how he’d acted when you first met – standoffish, bristly, constantly on the verge of losing his temper – he was practically a touch-starved puppy, happy so long as he could sit in your lap and bask in your attention, positive or negative.

If only you’d ever wanted a pet.

“I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say it.” Another laugh, a playful squeeze to your hand. “I think we should move in together.”

You snapped in his direction, your knees jolting against the bottom of your desk and earning a few pointed glares. After mouthing a sheepish apology, you dug your nails into the back of his hand, keeping your voice as low as possible. “Kuni, I— I don’t think that’s—”

“Don’t think it’s practical?” Predictably, he cut you off. “I knew you’d say that. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be able to find the nerve to leave your apartment.” You felt his smile against the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck as he nuzzled against you. “I’ve already handled it. By the time that moron—“ He rolled his eyes towards your professor. “—shuts up, everything should be taken care of.”

You felt something heavy and sharp drop into the pit of your stomach. “But, you don’t have a key—”

“I made myself a key a couple weeks ago – got tired of waiting for you to offer. I love you, babe, but you’re too timid for your own good.” His grin, pressed the curve of your throat. “You can thank me later on, after I’ve shown you our new place.”

His hand fell to your thigh, just a touch too high not to trigger some buried, primal instinct inside of you. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate – bolting upward and tearing yourself away from him. Your chair scaped against the tile floor, your palms slamming against the desk, and in an instant, every pair of eyes in the lecture hall were on you. The professor scowled in your direction, his ire tangible. “Do you have something to say, (L/n)?”

You opened your mouth, but your mouth was dry, your throat suddenly swollen shut. Your gaze fell back to Kuni – his smile still wide and his eyes still so, so dark.

Wordlessly, you shook your head and collapsed back into your seat. As the lecture picked back up and all concentration was returned to the front of the rom, Kuni latched onto you once again, his hold twice as strong and twice as suffocating as it had been.

It was almost a comfort to know that, this time, there wasn’t anything you could do to get away from him.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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yanderenightmare · 6 months

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Nasty alpha wolf-boy Shiggy buying virgin bunny reader at a shady auction, taking her home and breeding her silly in all her tight bunny holes<3

BNHA ! THIRST

Shigaraki Tomura x darling

WC: 2.5k

TW: NSFW, captive darling, light bondage, oral giving/receiving, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, hybrid au

Shigaraki doesn’t get along with most other organizations aside from his own, but he could hold a certain respect for this establishment. He felt appreciated here – a valued customer – one with a hungry appetite the vendor saved only the very best herbivores for.

Herbivores like you.

“She was easy to tame- submissive like she was made for it!” The Master said. “A bit too submissive for my taste- but you know what they say about bunnies- cute like a button and just as dumb!”

Your thighs rubbed themselves where you stood in the dark of your blindfold. Bleating and cowering in the chastity belt they’d fixed tight around your lower body – having you sheathed on two thick cocks stretching out both virgin holes – making you drippy – vibrating inside you with purrs tickling your core in thrums he could hear from ten meters away.

“Stuff her in the trunk and take her home if you want- she’s so soft around the edges and pumped with hormones she won’t mind the bumpy road. You could take her right here on the concrete, and all she’d do is just moan!”

He could smell it in the air – how heated you were. Sopping like a braindead whore – he bet you’d been stuck in that chastity belt for hours, as sweaty and trembling as you were. Unstable were you stood in pink pumps soaked full of the slick running down your thighs – only managing to stand thanks to the big bodyguard behind you. He was a beastly fucker, squeezing one of your tits tight in a big bear paw while fisting your leash like a noose in the other, pulling the thick black collar kept snug on your throat only to feel your plush ass rub against his crotch.

The way your arms were cruelly bent behind your back was of no help to your balance either, making your perky tits strut forward. Stiff nipples begging for a suck or a twist or a slap – sculpted a bit by an additional harness shaped like a bra with no filling – just thin black leather lines extenuating that on display.

“My hunters swear she’s a pure little thing, so normally I would demand you pay extra-”

Two black heart-shaped eyepatches had you blindfolded but were kept lenient enough to allow tears to soak through, layered damp on your cheeks and giving a pretty plump bloat to your lips – sucking on the pink ballgag stuffed in your mouth, fastened tight around your head – making all your noises come out wet and even more feeble.

“But she’s yours free of charge if the league handles some business for me~”

Your lop ears drooped sadly down your cheeks, framing your cute face like a picture where your little nose kept wrinkling in terribly adorable sniffles – squealing on what he could tell was another ride over the edge.

“Deal.” He barked shortly, a growl in his throat.

The Master grinned. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Shigaraki.” Tossing him the keys to the lock on your cunt before snapping his fingers, gesturing for the bodyguard to do the same with the leash – pushing you in a wobbling stumble over to your new owner.

And then he really felt you tremble – soft yet stiff, bracing yourself against him – the smell of utter terror and arousal so thick he found himself drooling just at a single close whiff – all the hair on his tail spiked on strict end as a hunger growled low in his gut.

He felt his pants grow taut and gave a hiss – shoving you on your stomach in a sprawl onto the backseat. Throwing your legs inside before slamming the door shut – putting his fingers to his lips – your slick wet on them, glossy and sweet in his nose like a perfume as he licked them clean while getting in the car.

“Drive.” He muttered in another curt growl, signaling the man to his side to turn the keys as he pawed the straining tent bumping his boxers with yet another hiss.

Huffing, he closed his eyes, listening to you nom on your gag with wet cries and moans – his chest tight and brows furrowed – cursing having said yes to clean up another organization’s mess, and even more frustrated with your scent hanging heavy in the air, making everything spin for him – until finally reaching the base.

“Get out, Binky- welcome to your new home.”

He tugged your collar again soon after the car stopped, and out you shuffled – sweaty and shivering on legs that could barely hold their own weight – supported by the hand he had raked in your hair, pulling and dragging your body out into the cold.

Letting go once you were out of the backseat, he started fisting the leash instead, yanking you forward with heels clicking in no steady rhythm – wonky on the ground where you struggled to keep up with him. Slick between your thighs, rubbing together as you walked.

You were still blindfolded – floppy ears shifty at the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut, along with the threatening cheers of the crowd of villains drinking in the rooms the two of you passed. It’s as though he can hear you praying, hoping that he’s not planning on sharing you with the rest of the fray the way you flinch at the whistles and filthy comments being thrown your way.

You sped up until your tits bumped into his back – walking close with your head bowed to shield yourself.

Splitting a grin, he chuckled out a low snort. He hadn’t thought you’d be so silly to seek his comfort. But dumb as it was, his cock seemed to find it unexpectedly pleasant.

Reaching his room, he fished for his key – hands unsteady, tongue gracing his fangs as he unlocked it before stepping inside. Hauling you behind him into the musty space where he at once pounced on you like a predator who’d finally lost all patience.

Paws with claws gabbed your tit with a force that made you stumble – almost fall if he hadn’t tugged you back by your leash. His tongue ran wet over the sweet drool dripping down your neck and chin – his canines close to your neck, making you shiver and bleat for him while his hand dropped down to cup your sex.

Stopping short at the thick feel of latex beneath his fingertips, he growled and shoved you in a toppling wobble until your back hit the soft embrace of the bed behind you. You met it with a bounce and a yelp smothered in your gag – and he followed quickly, crawling on top of you with the key in hand. Carefully caressing the lock on your belt – thinking it would be a shame to destroy it when he could make use of it later. He would need to keep you protected if the way everyone eyed you was any indication. After all, he couldn't expect a base crawling with only carnivores to resist the scent of a herbivore as sweet as you.

He turned the key in the hole and pulled the cruel construction down your thighs, and you gave a whine, hips bucking at the release, quaking at the empty feeling while he eyed the lewd mixture of slick clinging in pretty bridges between the two closing holes and the two glossy rubber cocks still wet and warm with your heat.

“You make quite a slutty mess for a virgin.” He teased, with two of his coarse fingers dragging up your slick clit – gleeful eyes watching you squirm while releasing a strangled sound caught between a moan and a scream – riddled with overstimulation to the point you were cumming in spasms from only the single little touch.

He only chuckled at the sight. Leaving you to pant and quake beneath him – with shakey breaths anticipating the painful pleasure of his touch once again.

“Sensitive, scared, horny- tortured by your own fickle hormones and instincts- I know what you want…” He continued, now with the words leaving hot puffs against the slick skin on your thighs. “You want this teensy little rabbit hole destroyed by the big bad wolf….”

Your whimpers were like a symphony – sweet and softly tuned to strum every string in his gut – purring and stirring something sticky and heavy and starving inside of him.

“Look at this pussy….” He groaned with a click of his tongue – his eyes set on the wet puffy little thing between your legs. “So pretty- I could bite it.”

Your back took an arch, jumping from the bed once his hot mouth hit your mound – letting out another uncontrolled moan – heart pounding so loud and savagely in your chest he could feel it pulse on his tongue inside you as he lapped at you like a parched mutt.

His claws dug with greed, plunged deep into the cake of your thighs, locking you around his jaw where he mouthed at your core with eyes rolling back. Every fiber went on a rampage within him, zipping along his limbs and gathering in his gut like one tight-clenched aching fist.

“Mh-fuck-” He took a breath, mouth gaping and dripping with spit and slick before moving upward, sucking kisses into the soft skin of your tummy and soon locking his lips around your nipple – with one hand working your free titty, the other fucked your hole with horny curiosity, delving in the slick with twists and curls and scissoring.

You whined under his touches, quaking on all counts – listening to your hole squelch while your oh-so-sensitive insides clenched down hard from the warm knot coiling in your lower belly, coming so close to that all-over-feeling yet again – shaking your head in fear of it.

“Piss yourself if it helps- I don’t mind-” He growled out low in a whisper, his fangs against your throat now, grazing playfully with rugged breaths hot against your flushed skin. “I won’t stop until I’ve broken in each hole-”

Eyes big and swiveled with tears rippling down your cheeks in rushed rivulets, all the while your pussy made out with his fingers – feeling the fat digits test the flex of your gummy walls – slippery with slick and happily fluttering from his touches.

You soon caved for the umpteenth time – whole body strangling to suppress the sensation while unsure how much more you could take before going numb.

“Tch- there you go~ good bunny~” He praised in mockery, snickering at your panting – his breath hot on your skin where he moved to hover above your gagged lips – undoing the straps to free your mouth.

“Ah please, m-master- please- no more-” You immediately begged, mouth wet with drool.

“Mh- you’ve got manners…” He moaned, keeping his fingers in your cunt while holding you by the ear in the other hand, gripping it tight and rubbing the thin softness like a lucky charm. Tugging himself out of his pants, messy with pre, he immediately steered the fatness to your mouth. “Open up~”

You took it with a small whine, feeling it push onto your tongue and further in until it hit the back of your throat in a kiss. He gave a groan, feeling your bloated lips wrap around the shaft as you glucked on his length in soft mewls – eyes panning from the view to watch your little titties bounce at the movement, doing small jumps for him as he rammed your sweet face.

He removed your eyepatches – wanting to see your pretty eyes glossy and big for him as you sucked his cock.

The look on your face made his gut rumble – so sweet-looking with your cinched brows and button-nose – eyeing him with cute anxiety, no doubt taking in the scary sight of his red eyes and his pale skin littered with scars.

You coughed cutely when he withdrew, and he bent over to kiss you again, spit stringing between your tongues as his fingers went back to your clitty – rubbing crass circles into it that had you squealing into his mouth.

“Please, master-” You cried, wringing your thighs shut tight around his hand – tears springing from the pity puddles of your eyes as you looked at him with such plead it made his gut roar.

He could only offer a gleeful giggle, spreading your thighs by pulling you snugly around his waist – his cock jumping eagerly above your navel as he bore over you – his breath hot on your face. “Don’t worry, baby bunny, I’ll stuff you up good. Breed you full of a warm creampie in your tight little cunt.” He cooed, fangs sharp and glistening – his paw flat on your belly, rubbing the flesh with want. “Right here~ warm and thick in your little womb~”

You shuddered at the threat, then whined an open-mouthed moan as he sleaved himself inside you. Feeling his every fat vein rub along your walls until his plush head nudged tight against your cervix – making you mewl with an arch in your back, clenching hard around the size of him. Shaking from the toll of it.

He groaned, starting to pound you already – fast and deep, just like a hound rutting. “I’m gonna give you my knot, Bunbun-” He drooled, sucking your cheek with tongue and teeth – red eyes set on your plump and pouty lips – gaping open and begging for more while he continued raving. “Gonna knot you up so tight- make this virgin pussy tremble for me-”

You could only pant, getting run through at such a pace your next orgasm was fucked right out of you. Sweat pilled on your forehead and nose, thighs trembling as you came on his thickness in hot, heaving moans. Throttling his cock for cum – which he soon spilled deep inside you just like he promised – painting your insides with it with balls clenching up, resting snugly against the slick that spilled out.

He was messy when he pulled out again. Glossy and still raging fat as he rolled you over on your stomach – pulling your ass up by your hips while you remained breathless with exhaustion, smudged against the pillowy sheets beneath you.

He laid his meat between your asscheeks, eyes lazily looking over your dewy face and how pretty you looked fucked out on his bed.

“This bunny-hole’s never felt cock either, huh?” He said, voice breathy but eager still – planting his tip at the opening of the taut little entrance before beginning to push.

You moaned out again but could only ball your fists for purchase, still kept in a lock behind your back – tightening them until your knuckles whitened while he crammed himself inside you one stout inch at a time.

“Mmh- fuck, so tight~ it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good hugging me nice and snug~” He almost whined, getting swallowed down until his pelvis met your ass and the ball of fluff found there – doing a little dance just for him. “Fuck- look at you, little cottontail~” He groaned, leaving himself sunk down to the hilt inside you for a moment of appreciation before beginning to drag out to pound your stomach into a nice mess. “So perfect, I outta take a picture~”

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shiggy #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #shigaraki smut #shigaraki thirst #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x you #tomura x you

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ineffectualdemon · 9 months

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The funniest thing about SVSSS is fans think that Binghe is jealous of the relationship between Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua

But in actuality I think a single rant about how annoying Shang Qinghua is would make him be absolutely fine about them

Like yes they are casual together but that's because Shen Qingqiu is chasing after him with a big stick

It's Mobei Jun who gets jealous because Shen Qingqiu chases after Shang Qinghua with a big stick

Also they both moved to protect Shang Qinghua at Maigu Ridge AND during the Abyss arc they were always going off together to do shit

Basically Mobei definitely low key sees him as a love rival

In a Modern Au Mobei would see himself as Shang Qinghua's sugar daddy and see Shen Qingqiu as a rival sugar daddy

Meanwhile Shang Qinghua just thinks he has a weird relationship with his boss and a best friend/hater who fusses

Shen Yuan just wants quality fiction about monsters damnit!

#svsss #moshang #bingqiu #cumplane #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #mobei jun #luo binghe

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beefboyandbabygirl · 10 months

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Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!”

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him.

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you.

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans.

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.”

“You’re so boring, Y/n.”

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.”

“You’re so gross!” you groaned.

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with.

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation.

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands.

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.”

Fuck, he was an idiot.

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans.

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.” _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends.

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively.

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code.

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom.

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun.

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.”

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small.

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling.

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off!

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit.

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle.

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy.

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?”

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.”

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera.

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house.

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?”

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?”

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!”

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction.

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!”

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-”

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone.

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely.

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!”

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately.

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.”

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-”

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer.

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-”

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own.

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?”

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted.

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-”

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!”

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.”

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.”

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself.

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked).

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu.

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne.

You got to talking about Mingyu Code.

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?”

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda.

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.”

“Mhm.”

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.”

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant.

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.”

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.”

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain.

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression.

“I know you are.”

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him.

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously.

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t).

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away.

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too.

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips.

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth.

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses.

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt.

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?”

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy.

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you.

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin.

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?”

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy.

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it.

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.”

And then he dived in.

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it.

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.”

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum.

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent.

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ‘stop’ didn’t come.

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out.

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.”

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers.

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste.

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.”

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped.

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you.

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet.

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good.

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you.

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound.

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach.

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.”

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.”

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-”

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.”

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world.

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus�� say you’re mine, please, Y/n.”

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.”

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?”

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body.

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.”

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