#it got bad under the post it notes lmao
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more sylvain doodles as I figure out how the hell I wanna draw him lol some attempts were better than others
#sylvain jose gautier#sylvain gautier#fe3h#fire emblem three houses#fire emblem: three houses#blue lions#doodles#it got bad under the post it notes lmao
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Unhappy Holidays
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆
Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).
Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).
Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆
Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.
Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.
If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.
It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.
Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.
A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.
He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.
Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.
The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.
“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”
“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”
“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”
You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.
He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.
Your resentment still burned though.
Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.
You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.
The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.
After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.
You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.
In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.
The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.
Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.
“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.
“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.
“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”
“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”
He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.
The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.
Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.
Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.
Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.
It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.
You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.
“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.
Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.
A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.
As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.
Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.
You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.
By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.
Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.
The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.
Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.
“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.
So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.
With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.
“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.
“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”
“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.
But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.
“You're sure he won't be there?”
“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”
“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”
“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”
“Done.”
–X–
Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.
You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.
“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.
“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.
“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.
“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.
“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”
You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.
“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”
“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.
“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.
“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”
You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.
“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.
Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.
“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.
“I was invited.”
“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”
“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.
You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.
“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.
“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.
“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.
Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.
“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”
“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.
“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”
“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.
“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.
“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”
“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”
“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”
He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.
“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.
“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.
You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.
His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.
He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.
He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.
“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”
“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”
“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.
“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.
“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”
Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.
He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.
“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.
“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.
“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.
It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.
He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.
“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”
“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.
He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.
“Liar.”
His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.
“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”
“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”
“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.
There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.
You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.
It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.
“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.
“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.
“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”
You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.
You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.
Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.
You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.
You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.
It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.
“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.
“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.
Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.
“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.
“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.
“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.
He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.
“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”
He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.
The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.
His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.
The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.
“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.
“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”
“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”
“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”
He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.
“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”
“Fuck. Why?”
“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”
You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.
He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.
“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”
“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”
“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.
“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.
“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”
“You just know how to piss them off?”
“Morgan says it comes naturally.”
“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”
A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.
“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.
“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”
“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.
“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.
“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”
He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.
“Oh my god you're an idiot.”
“When you're around, yes.”
“And that means I'm equally stupid.”
“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”
You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.
“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.
“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”
“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”
He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#criminal minds smut#cm writing challenge
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p-power ❀ op81
in which a tense breakup with a well known driver sparks a new beginning with an up and coming rookie
contains: social media!au, exbf!daniel, multiple time skips, heavily inspired by the lyrics ‘the pictures i seen i’m like “damn he got lucky”, take it from him and i leave him with nothin’.
note: this has been in my drafts for ages so i might has well post it anyways
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f1wagupdates f1 wag y/n l/n and mclaren f1 driver daniel ricciardo caught in a hearted argument while vacationing in new zealand for the short beak in light of a newly surfaced cheating scandal between daniel and a model during a monaco gp after party
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danielrjpg omg, so the cheating rumours were true??? i feel so bad for y/n, she was the best wag on the paddock in my opinion
iheartmclaren during the monaco gp?? she couldn’t make it to that one right?
papayaluv yeah, but she was still posting him on her story that whole weekend :(
ynstyle genuinely she’s too good for him anyways
user now that this has been brought to life can we talk about the weird ass age gap between the two??
dr3ily i love daniel but he’s 33 and she’s 22?? and they started dating when she was 20? that’s kind of icky
l.l.l.lando to be honest, i don’t think it’s true? like he doesn’t seem like the type to cheat! couples fight all the time
user yeah, monaco gp is notorious for exposing and cheating scandals that usually aren’t true, yall will believe anything
4everstappen then why did she already delete their photos together?? like all trace of daniel gone
givemedr3 but daniel still has all of their photos up, and he still follows her ?
madebymax it’s because he’s delusional LMAO, and I would be too if i fumbled someone like y/n??
user his karma will definitely come back to him, one way or another
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yourinstagram boy bye.
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landonorris let me come visit you please
yourinstagram you know you’re always welcome down under lan <3
user lando and y/n’s friendship still holding up is so cute to me
bsfsinstagram you’re too bad for anyone in this world
bsfsinstagram whoever gets you is so lucky
yourinstagram i love you more than anything babe
drxyn waitt so they’re actually broken up 😭
luvyn tbh the post breakup glow is eating, i was crying for a month straight after mine
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mclarenbby oh my god daniel in the likes is so embarrassing like please stop your delusion
newuser please go back to daniel y/n i loved you two together!
yourinstagram lol no thanks
k1ll4lando daniel get off your burner account LMAOO
iluvf1 y/n continuing to post like nothing ever happened and being all normal in comparison to daniel’s social media literally going black out like he’s grieving is so funny?? like the disabled comments are really the cherry on top
user i just know he has his pr team working overtime
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f1 some surprising news from mclaren this silly season, wouldn’t you agree?
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user honestly thank god, i don’t think mclaren was daniels team, but it’s sad to see he might be out of a seat now
user the karma from cheating is literally so real
user and he wasn’t performing well at all because of it
user YN LIKED IT BYEEE
user love that for her though
mclaren excited to see our rookie in action!
early february, 2023.
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lando.jpg friendly outings before the new season (ft. y/n’s photography skills)
tagged yourinstagram & oscarpiastri
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yourinstagram thank you for the photo credits on the last one lando
oscarpiastri very nice photos lando
lando.jpg always so serious oscah
papayaluv yn still hanging out with mclaren is so nice to see, she has so much chemistry with the team even without daniel
op81ln4 seeing yn get becoming friends with oscar is so funny like omg he took your ex’s seat in f1
mcl4ren honestly i think that yn is milking this whole daniel situation to still keep the attention on her, how is she still attending mclaren events?
yourinstagram please stop making assumptions about me, thanks ❤️
user do you forget that she’s been friends with lando?
user can’t lie, lando posting yn at mclaren knowing daniel follows this page is wickedddd but funny
oscar
hey, it’s oscar from earlier :)
you
hi oscar! i had so much fun meeting you tonight
did you grab my number from lando?
oscar
yeah..i hope that’s alright?
i was just glad to see a fellow australian and lando suggested i have it
you
i really don’t mind it, i’m happy to have a new friend that i have smth in common with
i was surprised when your mclaren signing was announced, but i’m sure your rookie season will be amazing
oscar
thanks, it really does mean a lot
i wasn’t really expecting the mclaren offer in the first place but i was open, and they’d just let go of daniel cause of his performance
wait sorry i didn’t mean to bring him up
you
please don’t apologize, i couldn’t care less about him anymore
i see what happened in the second half of last years season as karma, im glad it’s you who’s in the seat now :)
oscar
yeah, but if you ask me what he did was an asshole move
you didn’t deserve that at all, i think he lost something good
you
it’s been so long now that it’s nothing important to me, but…did you want to meet up for lunch or dinner tomorrow? my flight back home leaves after that
oscar
yeah, i’d like that
and i’ll hope to see you again in australia as well?
you
you can count on it ❤️
april, melbourne australia.
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yourinstagram reunited down below 🧡
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ynluv it felt so nice seeing you with mclaren today !!
mclaren we second that!
yourinstagram it’s just a one time thing, i never miss a home race! but i was happy to be there!!
landonorris who’s that cool guy in the sunglasses?
yourinstagram a toad that drives for mclaren you do NOT want to talk to him
oscarpiastri missed hanging out
yourinstagram come back home more often then duh
landonorris or you can just visit us instead
you
you did so well in the race today oz
ozz
P8 isn’t the best though, could have been better
lando was good
you
he was, but we’re not talking about lando
P8 on your third race as a rookie is amazing
take the compliment oscar 🙄
ozz
thank you for the compliment miss
you
ugh shut up
ozz
im glad you were here this race weekend, i really did miss seeing you
you
it’s not like you haven’t been texting and calling me for two months straight 😭
ozz
but that’s different
you
mhm
when do you have to fly out to baku?
ozz
i leave in the middle of the night on wednesday
you must want me to take you out on a date before i go?
you
don’t be smug oscar pisstree
facetime dates are nice but it would be nice to go on a real one again. we don’t always have to hang out with lando
ozz
i know y/n, im only teasing you
there’s no way i would be here and not think to plan one, you know me better than that
but pisstree is a little painful
you
i know i know, sorry
ozz
so get ready and i’ll come pick you up once i’m done with these team debriefs
oscarpiastri updated their story (15 mins ago)
you
girl.
omg
pls whatever you’re doing stop it
TEXT ME BACK PLEASE 😭
bestie 🧸
oh my god
hi
i’m here
are you dying ? kidnapped?
i thought you were on your date with oscar
please respond???
how are you not responding after just texting??
istg i hate you
you
i was on my date with oscar
he just dropped me off
and
bestie 🧸
and??
you
i am a girlfriend !!!!
😖😖😖
bestie 🧸
OH MY GOD???
OSCARYN NATION UPPP
he’s so good for you yn
IM SO HAPPY
you
ME TOO
however. there is one problem
he asked me to spend the summer break travelling with him
bestie 🧸
what did you say?
yes? right?
you
i didn’t say anything actually…
he said he’d let me think about it
bestie 🧸
okay so tell him your done thinking about it
and say yes!
august; summer break.
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yourinstagram all types of summa lovin
landonorris you got him to wear pink ????
yourinstagram doesn’t he look yummy in it
user WHO’S HIM????
bsfsinstagram oh not you posting himmm
yourinstagram i had to let them know i’m spoken for babe
oscarpiastri what psychopath straightens their hair like that
yourinstagram the hot kind
landonorris yeah right
dannybae is that daniel in the last photo?
yourinstagram no
user was posting this after daniel said he missed you on that podcast intentional????
user that’s so embarrassing for him but at least now he’s gained some self respect and unfollowed her 😭😭
luvyn i’m so happy she’s happy, literally living her best life
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oscarpiastri summer
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user oscar when was this this ?????
oscarpiastri i just said this summer🧍♂️
landonorris 💀
yourinstagram oscar in his soft launch era??
landonorris you were the one who taught him that
oscarpiastri is that what it’s called
user not oscar getting a girlfriend over the break
oscarspastries i sort of suspected this after that story he posted after the australia gp
user omg so she’s probably from australia
op4prez the second picture kinda looks like yn
user no it doesn’t ur jumping to conclusions 😭
user she’s only friends with the mclaren boys she has her own man
user oscar literally drops off the face of the earth for the entire break and then comes back to post this??
user im severely unwell
user oscar’s already falling into the girlfriend effect of looking exponentially finer and im here for it
october; qatar.
yourinstagram updated their story (2 hours ago)
you
congratulations on winning the sprint race babe <3 i knew you could do it
baby 💕
where are you?
i want to come see you
you
i’m in the garage with the team
are you coming with lando
baby 💕
no
you
you shouldn’t come without him
you know that people would talk and it’ll be annoying to deal with
baby 💕
i just got the first win of the season for the team
quite frankly i couldn’t give a shit what they said, i want to celebrate with my girl
you
oscar i want to celebrate with you too, but it might be best to wait
oscar are you there?
oscar ?
read 2 mins ago
yourinstagram updated their story (10 mins ago)
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oscarpiastri thanks qatar
comments on this post are limited
mclaren 🧡
landonorris it’s about time you made it public
oscarpiastri i never hid it though
landonorris didn’t you?
yourinstagram you’re lucky i love you enough to let you hard launch
oscarpiastri just can’t keep you a secret
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#f1 social media au#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#oscar piastri smau#f1 x you#f1 x black!reader
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OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™
Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.
Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)
And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)
Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.
They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3
"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.
AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????
HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU
but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"
"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.
HOWEVER...
"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"
Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????
INSANE!!!
INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!
Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM
ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????
It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."
WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.
AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!
Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL
excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,
kiss me instead like wtf
OKAY NOW THIS,,,
THIS.
PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING
BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????
I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.
So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???
WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.
REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!
HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3
yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.
BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!
AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.
THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.
ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????
WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???
WHAT THEN.
HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333
ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????
EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,
LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,
I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???
if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3
LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!
But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3
AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.
WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.
IS IT US?
IT'S PROBABLY US.
BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL
#OFMD#Our Flag Means Death#OFMD Season 2#OFMD S2#OFMD S2 Teaser#OFMD Season 2 Spoilers#Gentlebeard#Blackbonnet#Edward Teach#Stede Bonnet#Oluwande Boodhari#Jim Jimenez#Frenchie#Fang#Izzy Hands#Spanish Jackie#Revenge Rambles#OKAY NOW I'M ALL OUT OF JUICE HSDLJKSS#ALL OUT OF BRAIN POWER#BUT MAN#MAN!!!#SO SO SO OSO SO SODOSJDKLSDKLS EXCITED
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Omg literally it would be SO cool if you wrote the rest of the playboy bruce trying to kiss the justice league without them realizing it (I know you said figure it out but the way you wrote it was so good and funn I would love it if you gave maybe a couple of scenarios)
Lmao honestly executive dysfunction is kicking my ASS rn and it was intended as a prompt. I will try tho, definitely taking inspiration from the others who responded to the post because I love them.
If you haven’t, go check out the notes on the OG Post above! @britcision, @ivywing, and @help-i-need-a-cool-username all had amazing additions and @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego wrote a fic:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48325771
As did @scrapcheck, still in progress
And Devilhorn!
Anyways LONG post under the cut
Hal Jordan
Hal is first to prove a POINT, as @britcision decided. Also because the bastard made it waaaay too easy. Remember- Hal was Joking. He genuinely thinks Batman isn’t going to try, because he’s way too straight-laced boring.
So when he’s at a bar in Coast City, and he sees this absolutely ravishing man lounging casually against the wall, bar lighting making him practically glow (he CALCULATED that) subtle makeup making his bright blue eyes pop as he looks Hal up and down… Well. Hal makes the first move.
Hal: “All on your own, handsome?”
Bruce, with “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift playing in his head, smiling sweetly at Hal: “Care to change that?”
They start talking. Hal doesn’t recognize Bruce Wayne at ALL (canonically he does not know who Bruce Wayne is, a point brought up by @help-i-need-a-cool-username) so all he knows is Bruce is a single father who works at a company he inherited from his parents, which is just (brucie voice) “so much less interesting than a test pilot!”
Bruce, grimacing internally but wrapped around Hal’s arm with the awed and interested eyes in full effect: “you have such a nice voice, tell me more about planes…”
He KNOWS what a fuselage is, thank you, Jordan. Whatever. He gets to gush about his kids, when its his turn to talk, good enough tradeoff. He can survive Hal Jordan’s bad pick up lines and pretend he’s into them. At a certain point Bruce breaks and kisses him just to shut him up. One down.
Diana Prince
I looked it up- kissing in Ancient Greece wasn’t always considered romantic, but also a greeting between two similarly-ranked people. Therefore, I think Diana would be pretty chill with kissing and honestly an easy target at a gala if Bruce plays respectful/clumsy/earnest himbo starstruck with the tall pretty woman, just a peck would make him the happiest man alive. But I wanna go a little more in depth.
Now, I’ve seen Flash and Martian Manhunter save Bruce and/or his kids and Bruce lays one on them, but honestly I think it would work well with Diana too, because she loves kids. Dick and/or Jason (whichever you want to imagine, I want them to team up screw canon) are WAY to excited for this, they’ve got a little script and everything.
WonderWoman, a kid in each arm, delivering them back to their tearful guardian: “Here we are, Mr. Wayne. Whole and healthy.”
Dick, playing into his role eagerly: “Oh my gosh, Bruce! Bruce we got saved by a princess! It’s like a fairytale! Except, you know, the princess is the hero this time, which is so freaking cool!”
Bruce, tears of gratitude rolling down his face (and he knows how to still look perfect while crying, its a skill): “I’m just glad the two of you are safe, Chum.”
Jason, big baby blues in full effect, absolutely asked Wonder Woman to be his mom earlier (to set groundwork, no other reason): “You know, usually the princess and the hero gets a kiss at the end of a fairytale, Bruce. But this princess is both. So how will she get a reward?”
Still choked up with relieved tears and now laughter, Bruce looks up at Diana and smiles: “Well, if the Princess wants a reward… then I would be a fool to refuse.”
Bruce kisses her on the lips, Dick and Jason both kiss her cheeks, Diana leaves charmed and amused by the sweet family. Such a good father, humoring his children and thier little fascination with her, so very respectful…
Two down.
J’ohn Jones
Okay, martians are telepathic. So this goes one of two ways, at some sort of charity or something-
Option 1, Batman is a realist: the charity event is a masquerade, and he wanders over to where MM is while thinking “it would be so funny, give me this.” As loudly as he can. And Martian Manhunter, who appreciates the audacity, gives him a kiss. (I don’t like this one because it technically breaks the rules of the bet, bc MM knows it’s Batman, but eh)
Option 2, Batman is a different breed: he manages to up the ante with his Himbo Persona. Creating a “slippery void” mental facade that blocks of his real thoughts and makes him read as really just that stupid. This would require functioning with two trains of thought at once, and making sure that the Martian can only read the surface level, “oh, this one is pretty” “I really wouldn’t mind kissing him” and other such decoy thoughts, instead of “target is approaching, signs of interest present despite this not being his natural form-“
Bruce also researches and copies Martian courting styles and copies them “by chance,” catching MM’s attention. (He offers him Oreos)
Martian Manhunter: “this man… he is so empty headed and yet clearly kind and willing. I would not take him for a life partner, but for some simple fun as he seems to desire…”
(Edit: Maybe, if B is confident enough, he lets through his loneliness. Missing his parents, wanting affection, an ache so strong it’s like a physical wound. J’onn feels the same ache for his lost family, and decides to try this human’s strategy to fill that void. Either way…)
Batman 3, League 0
Barry Allen
I’m strangely blank when it comes to the Flash let me just spitball and let it snowball
As I said above, people have had him save Bruce, had Bruce seduce him at his workplace while taking a tour, I even saw @help-i-need-a-cool-username have Dick set up a petition for Bruce to kiss the Flash. (An idea that I personally think would also go really well with Superman lmao.)
Anyways, I think it would be funny for Bruce to take it slow with Barry. For the irony of it all. Because Batman is doing this to prove a POINT. So he’s in central city, spots Barry coming his way, and “accidentally” slips right into his arms. Ooh, or covered in coffee, like a wealth disparity drama base script, and Barry’s like “omg i am so sorry let me pay you back.” And bruce is all “this shirt costs (stupid amount of money)”
Barry: (fear)
Bruce, rolling with it rn: “yes, it is horrendous, isn’t it? Hows this- I’m in central city for a day. You can pay me back by showing me around?”
He then proceeds to string barry along on an honest to god DATE for shits and giggles. They go clothes shopping, they go to restaurants, Bruce pays for a big meal bc this is after a fight or something and Barry got hurt, his speedster comrade needs to EAT, damnit.
After all this, he gives a cheeky smile and lightly smooches Barry. “Thanks for the fun day, Mr. Allen.”
Barry, bright red and goo brained: “hah- mmhmm. Yeah…”
Batman 4, League 0
Oliver Queen
This one… Oliver is on guard. He’s twitchy and suspicious, turning down men flirting with him, people are starting to notice. But Bruce? Bruce just walks up at a party while “tipsy” and lays one on him. Straight up. He wants to show just how EASY it is. Because Oliver doesn't even register it. He just laughs and goes: “Hey Brucie! Miss me?”
Batman 5, League 0
Dinah Lance
Of course, immediately after above, he turns and pouts at canary.
Bruce: “Dinah darling, you are a saint, I don’t know how you put up with the mess he’s got on his face. He was so much nicer to kiss when we were in (fancy private school name drop) together and didn’t have all this nonsense.”
Dinah, laughing at Ollie’s offended noises: “Oh, I don’t mind it. He’s a good kisser.”
Bruce: “Of course he is, I taught him. Care to compare?”
Dinah: “Don’t mind if I do.”
Batman 6, league 0
Clark Kent
For Clark, Bruce is originally talking to Lois before he turns his eyes on a quiet Clark and croons: “So, Miss Lane, does this lovely specimen have his own questions, or is he arm candy? And if he’s the latter, can I either tempt him off you, or secure an invitation?”
Lois, an excellent friend who will absolutely set Clark up with the hottest bachelor in Gotham: “Well, Mister Wayne, I’ve got all I need. Clark, take a page from my book and honeytrap a good quote out of him, hm?”
With an obnoxious wink, she pats a spluttering Clark on the shoulder, and leaves him with a very smug Batman.
(Bonus Superbat- Clark and Bruce’s conversation is going REALLY WELL and to the point where both of them seem on board with more than a heavy makeout when Bruce puts a hand on Clarks chest.
Bruce: “Stop.”
Clark, freezing immediately: “I’m sorry, did I go too far-?”
Bruce: “No, no. I think I might be though. See, I have all of you now, and I’ve won the bet.”
Clark: “What are you- oh. Oh- HUH?”
Cue sudden and shocked revelation, Clark’s mind going a hundred miles an hour, and then skidding to a stop on- he only did this for the bet. He’s not really interested. He stopped because I went too far-
Bruce: “You only consented to a kiss without knowing my identity. Right now, I’d like to do more, if you’d let me.”
Clark has the dial-up tone ringing in his ears, he has no idea whats going on anymore, the hot billionaire and his reclusive teammate aren’t quite slotting into place, because he wants both but rhey’re so different but they’re the same but-
“Yes.”
Lois doesn’t get Clark back that night and she is delighted.)
Anyways, final results:
Batman: 7
League: 0
Reveal:
Batman talking shit about their secret identities again, Green Lantern is scoffing about it again, says something along the lines of: “You still think you’re sooooo great, huh? Hows the bet going, spooky?” Fully expecting Batman to get huffy with him.
Instead, Batman smirks.
He leans in
And purrs: “So you didn’t notice?”
The League freezes. The implications are dangling over their head. Did he… did he really?
Green Lantern, absolutely terrified: “No. no, there’s no way…”
Batman: “Oh, there absolutely was a way. I’d say you were a good kisser, but honestly? I think it might have been the euphoria of getting you to shut up.”
He turns on the rest of the league, still smirking. “I have kissed every single person who consented at least once in the time since the bet was made. Two of you with tongue. And no one has called me out on it. Now that you know it’s happened, you should be able to figure me out, so whoever can tell me my real name first, wont get thier story used as an example in the brand new “how to avoid honeypots” seminar.”
(If bonus superbat, B shoots Superman a Look and goes “except for you, superman, because I told you my name.” Which just ends up distracting everyone else until they get THAT story)
Diana wins bc she matched up the boys to the robins. Everyone else gets their stories told in excruciating detail. Batman rates them by kissing ability and how obvious he was on his approach. Oliver gets docked points for “texture.” Dinah gets docked points because “i griped about the exact same thing in and out of costume, how did you not notice-“
(Different reveal below)
@chaos-n-kindness @she-went-that-way @geekonaleash @redh00dsbf @howabouticallyou
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𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑
"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k words
warnings: explicit language, fluff, smut (minors dni), fingering (f receiving), protected sex
summary: in which after a long drive back from denver, you and steve are back in your apartment and can finally lean into the fact that everything has changed
author's note: i told myself that i was gonna take at least a little break after the last thing i posted for this series/universe, but then i got this idea and i had to run with it because i have no self control lmao Anyways! hope yall enjoy this!<3333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
The first thing you noticed was that his hair was damp from his shower, and the first thing he noticed was the pajamas you changed into after your own shower; a simple black tank top and a pair of shorts because it was really warm in the apartment for some reason.
You had initially come out of your bedroom to say a quick goodnight to him. It was almost eleven and after driving back home from Denver— a drive that actually felt a lot longer than the initial one— all you wanted to do was sleep for at least the next ten hours. You had especially been craving your bed at home during the final hour of the seventeen-hour car ride.
However, now you were looking at Steve and he was looking at you, and it seemed as if the current set of circumstances you were in hit you both all at once.
You were completely alone for the first time since things changed, since you both jumped into being something more with each other. You hadn’t even kissed since that first night— although you both had desperately wanted to— because the timing was never right. A movie night led to all of you falling asleep in the living room Saturday night, and then Sunday night mainly consisted of you all trying to get as much sleep as possible to prepare for the long drive back home.
Now it was Monday night and there was absolutely nothing bad about this timing. Even the exhaustion you’d felt before you took your shower and washed the entirety of the day away was long gone.
You joined Steve in the kitchen where he was drinking a glass of water. “Hi.”
“Hi,” He said as he set the glass down next to him and you leaned back against the counter across from him.
That short exchange was the extent of the conversation at that moment. You could’ve shifted it in absolutely any direction right then— mention picking Harold up from Dustin’s house tomorrow since he’d been taking care of the hamster for the past few days, or even randomly talk about how you two would be back in your Film & TV history class tomorrow and you’d forgotten to do the reading— but you didn’t want to say any of that.
After these last few days of pretending that everything was normal between you two around Robin and Eddie, it felt almost unbearably obvious what you both wanted to happen right here in this moment. But neither of you made any move to do it; maybe it was a little game of “who’d do something first?” that you two were unspokenly playing right then.
Your eyes flickered down to his lips for the briefest of moments and you could feel your cheeks warm at him taking in the entirety of your form; the simple tank top and pajama shorts you put on with the initial thought that you’d be going to sleep soon after you did— now sleep was the last thing on your mind. You suddenly felt so exposed, but at the same time, you didn’t really feel that shy under Steve’s gaze.
Still, though, you were feet away from each other, and neither of you took the plunge into finally acting on everything you’d wanted to for the last couple of days.
“This feels kinda weird, right?” You abruptly asked. “It’s the first time we’re entirely alone. And we actually don’t have to pretend that nothing has changed between us.”
“A little weird, yeah,” Steve answered as he finally stepped closer to you. “But, also, not really.”
He closed the entirety of the distance between you two and his hands found your hips. You could only smile up at him at first. The warmth from his touch made you inwardly sigh in contentment, and it made you want more.
“Actually, you’re right. This isn’t weird,” You decided with a quick shake of your head. “Just different. Good different.”
“Good different,” He agreed with a nod, smiling back at you.
One of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into him, letting your eyes slip shut as he dipped his head down toward you. Your noses brushed and his lips ghosted over yours just for a second. It was slow and teasing, and you knew that he was doing it on purpose, dragging out the moment that you both had been craving since the first time it happened in your bed at the cabin. And at first, you didn’t mind it— his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth and then against your other cheek and then your nose— you could see yourself wanting every single kiss you shared with him to be as drawn out and as sweet as this felt.
But then the anticipation became too much, and you were desperate to have his mouth against yours, so after his lips landed on your forehead, you whispered a soft and pleading, “Kiss me, Steve,” and you didn’t need to say it twice.
From there it was as if a flip was switched and there was no longer anything slow about this moment. His mouth was against yours and you hurriedly kissed him back, already reaching up to thread your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck.
Just like it had that first night, this kiss felt so right and damn near perfect. You inwardly smiled and let out a happy hum against his lips, not wanting to pull away just yet although you could already feel yourself getting lightheaded.
You pushed yourself up on the countertop with the help of Steve’s hands on your waist, only detaching your lips from his for the briefest of moments to do so, and then you gripped the sides of his t-shirt to tug him closer to you. He was standing right in between your parted legs and your chests were flush against each other, but that still didn’t feel close enough to you.
There were probably a thousand things you wanted to say to him right then, mainly statements that would’ve started and ended with quietly muttered I love you’s. But, Steve fucking Harrington was a phenomenal kisser, and every thought you had in that moment seemed to vanish as soon as it came. He so easily turned you into a pile of want and need.
You were able to catch your breath when he pulled away from your lips and tilted your head upward so that he could kiss along your jaw and then move down to your neck. When he pressed his lips against a particularly sensitive part of your neck, it elicited a soft whimper from you, and you could feel him smile against your skin in response.
Steve pulled back to look at you, searching your face and seeing through you completely, he could probably easily read your current incoherent thoughts.
Even though he was the one pretty much doing everything right then, he still looked just as fucked out as you felt; flushed face and disheveled hair, you couldn’t even remember running your hands through it or pulling at it that much in the past few minutes. It felt nice to see the effect you had on him too.
One of his hands moved to your hip and started teasingly playing with the thin waistband of your shorts before slowly snaking its way inside of them. You sucked in a quick breath when his fingers made contact with the small wet patch at the front of your underwear.
You were absolutely soaked, that didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but you still couldn’t help but shyly turn your head and look away from him.
“You’re cute when you’re shy.”
You rolled your eyes and still avoided his gaze. “Shut up.”
Steve laughed at that. “Very, very cute, actually.”
You didn’t get a chance to say any sort of playful comeback to him because he started lightly teasing your clit through your underwear, which made everything you were about to say become lost on the tip of your tongue. His other hand moved to push the thin strap of your tank top off of your shoulder so that he could press a soft kiss against the skin there. Your brain was very close to completely short-circuiting, and you knew that he could tell that.
You were barely able to keep your eyes open, but you finally met his gaze again. Instead of looking even the slightest bit smug about how easily he was making you fold with everything that he was doing, even with the subtlest of touches, there was only the sweetest look written across his face and it made you want to combust. It still felt a bit insane to you that any of this was finally happening in the first place.
Steve’s hands hooked themselves into the waistband of your shorts and underwear. “Can I?”
“Please.” You were quick to nod at his question and were already lifting your hips a bit so that he could pull your bottoms off of you.
Your shorts and underwear were gone in one quick movement, hanging off your right ankle for barely a second before falling to the floor.
Steve gave you a look that was so full of lust and adoration that it made you feel flustered all over again. It was a look that had never been reserved for you. But, now, it was, and you knew that it always would be if everything stayed this way.
His fingers worked their way through your folds and teasingly traced up your slit. Your nervousness was immediately washed away when his middle finger slowly pushed into your entrance. The only thing falling from your lips was a quiet moan, and your hands found the edge of the counter and gripped tightly. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a louder moan when he added another finger inside of you.
It all too suddenly hit you that it was him doing this to you right then— way too easily turning you into an absolute mess on his fingers.
Your best friend. Your Steve.
The softest laugh fell from your lips at the abrupt thought.
“You okay?” He asked, and your eyes met his as you nodded because it was pretty much the only coherent thing you could do at that moment.
You leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips, but then your brain was once again reminding you of what was happening and you abruptly let out another little giggle.
Steve gave you a curious look. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m good. And this is good too. Really, really good,” You assured him, somehow able to find your voice, even as his fingers continued their slow and steady movements inside of you. You let out a quick breath. “It’s just my mind keeps randomly reminding me that it’s you doing this right now, and that just seems so fucking surreal. Like, in a way, I kinda can’t believe this is happening. And none of what I just said probably even makes sense.” You let out another breath that turned into a moan. “Ah, but, anyway, I promise I’m so good right now. Really good.”
Steve only laughed at your rambling and then pressed a soft kiss against your lips.
His free hand found your hip again and he guided you to the edge of the counter so that he could hit a deeper angle with his fingers.
“Shit, fuck,” You breathed out at the new feeling. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed at how quickly he was bringing you to the precipice and how quickly you were about to fall over the cliff because you just felt so fucking good.
One of your hands let go of the counter and moved to find your clit; you just needed that little bit of extra pressure against the sensitive nub to fully send you over the edge. But, Steve was nudging your hand away before you could touch yourself so that he could do it instead. The pad of his thumb started stroking your clit almost too perfectly in quick circles and you had to bite your lip to keep from immediately screaming.
“M’gonna come,” You were probably moaning too loud at this point, but you didn’t care.
He kissed your cheek and then his mouth was right against your ear. “Go ahead. Come all over my fingers.”
His voice was low and could barely be heard over your moans and whimpers, but you still heard him perfectly. And with one particularly rough brush against your clit, you were squeezing tightly around his fingers and coming hard; heart pounding in your chest, ready to burst out of it completely, and seeing something equivalent to stars behind your shut eyes.
“Fuck, fuck, Steve,” You whispered, head tilting upward as he continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it for as long as possible.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” He was smiling at you as you came down from your high and your bleary-eyed gaze met his.
In that moment, you could only smile back and slightly shake your head at him in response. Your brain was now a complete pile of mush, to say the least.
You let out a soft breath and leaned back, abruptly hitting your head against the cabinet behind you with a hard thud in the process. “Ouch.”
“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked as his hand came up to rub the back of your head and you leaned into his touch.
“Yeah,” You laughed a little. “I’m fine. It doesn’t really hurt.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm,” You nodded as your eyes traveled downward and you saw how noticeably hard he was beneath the navy blue basketball shorts he was wearing.
“Are you okay?” You asked, meeting his eyes again and smiling. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you were reaching into his shorts and pushing past his boxers so that you could immediately wrap your hand around his length.
“Jesus Christ,” He muttered as his eyes slipped shut and you leaned in to kiss his neck. You stroked his cock in a soft and teasing way and could only smile at the strained “Fuck” he let out.
“Is that okay?” You asked, lips right against his ear.
“Perfect. Fucking perfect,” He answered in the quietest whisper before he dropped his forehead against your bare shoulder and then let out a soft chuckle against your skin.
“What?” You asked as you continued your slow movements.
“You were right,” He said, letting out a quick breath. “This does feel so surreal. But, really, really good.”
You laughed a bit. “Told you.”
After just a second, he pulled away from your shoulder and stopped your strokes by placing a hand on your wrist.
You tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t wanna cum in my boxers. I need to be inside of you,” He said, and you immediately nodded at his words because there was actually nothing more you wanted than that too.
The next few moments moved in a quick kind of blur, and when you would later look back on this entire night, it would feel as if simply fingers were snapped and one moment was switched to the next. Steve was lifting you off of the counter and bringing you to his bedroom after your soft words of, “We can’t do it here because we’ve ruined the kitchen enough for one night.” You were simultaneously laughing and kissing his face as he led you to his room, arms circling the back of his neck to keep you steady.
He set you down at the foot of his bed and you moved upward. It wasn’t until your head was against his pillows and you were looking at him standing a few feet away from you that you noticed the difference between you two right then— he was still fully clothed, and all you had left on was your black tank top.
“This isn’t fair.”
“What?”
You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m basically naked, and you still have all of your clothes on.”
He nodded at your words and then peeled off his t-shirt and slipped out of his shorts so that he was just in his boxers. “Is that better?”
You nodded and smiled at him. “Mhm, much.”
Your head fell back against the pillows again and he simply stared at you for a few moments, eyes traveling from your bare legs all the way up to the small smile on your face.
“This slightly reminds me of that one game night we had at your house when we were sixteen.”
All you could do was laugh at the randomness of his words at first. “How can you possibly be reminded of Monopoly right now?”
“Not that night,” Steve said, laughing a little as he shook his head. He stepped into the bed and leaned over you, one hand brushing your side before settling on your bare hip. “The night when you invited some people from your school over too and someone suggested we all play strip poker.”
“Oh, that night,” You responded, quietly sighing in contentment at the feel of him tracing circles against your skin. You thought about the memory he was referring to. “That was the first time I saw you shirtless in a non-swimming or beach setting.”
He dipped down, nose brushing over yours before softly pecking your lips. “And that was the first time I ever saw you in just your bra and underwear.”
You playfully smiled up at him as you pushed a hand through his hair. “We really suck at poker.”
“Yeah,” He said, smiling back at you.
“And we both ended up making out with someone that wasn’t each other that night.” You weren’t entirely sure why you decided to bring that up when Steve was on top of you, settled between your parted legs with his boxer-covered hard-on pressing perfectly against your inner thigh.
You almost regretted saying it for fear of ruining “the mood,” but then he was laughing and kissing you again.
“And look at us now; finally making out with each other. Full circle moment.”
You smiled again. “I think we’re doing a lot more than just making out, but yes, very full circle.”
You started playing with the hem of your tank top and Steve helped pull it up and off of you. He tossed it somewhere on the floor and one of your hands found the back of his neck to bring him toward you in a needy kiss. He pulled away after a second and started kissing along your jaw and then moved down to your neck, leaving deep red marks against your skin that you knew would probably be annoying to attempt and hide from your friends later, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about that right then. You were tugging harshly at his hair, which elicited the softest sounds from him, as you let out your own contented hums because of how much you adored having his mouth against you.
Everything felt so good right then, but it wasn’t enough.
“I need you. Please,” You told him, hips bucking upward so that you could feel something more and Steve groaned in your ear.
Your hands went to the waistband of his boxers, hurriedly trying to push them off of him. He moved away from you for a second, completely ridding himself of his boxers and then he started rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom.
Before this moment— Steve seconds away from being inside of you— things felt unreal and in some ways a little funny because of how surreal it all was, but now it didn’t feel that way at all. He was the one person that knew almost everything about you and now you two were doing one of the few things that you actually didn’t know about each other. Surprisingly, that didn’t worry you in the slightest or make you feel scared, and maybe that said everything you needed it to. Things felt so real and so fucking right, and that made you smile.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked as he settled back on top of you.
“Nothing, really. I’m just so happy this is happening right now.”
“Me too,” He whispered before softly kissing your lips.
When he slowly entered you, every thought was wiped from your mind and all you could do was moan at the feeling of him filling you up so completely.
It was soft and sweet and everything in between. Steve moved slowly, pulling his length out of your dripping core until only the tip of him was inside of you before gently pushing back in.
He swallowed your moans and gasps with his lips, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, savoring everything you were feeling at that moment, even though you wanted to hold his gaze.
“I love you,” He muttered against your warm cheek in between deep thrusts. He linked his fingers with yours and brought your intertwined hands over your head.
At first, all you could do was nod in response because your mind was so far gone, but then you were finding your voice and whispering the softest, “I love you too,” in the darkness of his bedroom.
Coherent words became lost from there, but with every haphazard and messy kiss that was shared between you two, everything was still conveyed.
The nearly pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin along with your moans and his groans filled the quiet. You both were probably being way too loud, and maybe now was when your neighbors would start hating you two, but it was hard to feel bad about it right then.
Steve’s other hand suddenly firmly grabbed your hip so that he could push into you deeper, harder, which nearly sent you tumbling over the edge.
“I’m so close,” You heard yourself whispering, and you weren’t sure how the three words were even able to form on your tongue.
Steve’s hand moved away from your hip and started playing with your clit instead.
“Shit, yeah. Right there,” You said and he continued his steady movements, not letting up in the slightest.
Your orgasm hit you so abruptly, and you were coming around him with a loud cry before you could even realize it. How tightly you were squeezing his cock as you came only spurred on his own release. His forehead dropped against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom.
Chest against chest, you found his lips in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your collective breathing returned somewhat to normal.
The exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you and you were close to falling asleep, eyes already falling shut, but Steve’s warmth leaving your body woke you up. He was slipping out of you with a low groan and then getting out of the bed to toss the condom in the garbage can that sat in the corner of his room. As he did that, you maneuvered around so that you were underneath the covers and he joined you.
Limbs became tangled beneath the blanket; his arms circling your waist to hold you close, your arms around his back and tracing mindless circles on his skin, and legs entangled. It was comfortable and perfect, and you were about to fall asleep just like that, but then an idea hit you.
Your eyes were shut and your face was buried in his neck. “We need to go on a first date.”
You felt Steve’s soft chuckle against the side of your head. “We’ve already said I love you and had sex. I think we’re far past the first date.”
“We have to do it,” You told him. “And we should make it super cheesy and dumb.”
“Fancy restaurant?” Steve asked, deciding to go along with the idea.
“Yes. And a movie too! Preferably, a very, very bad romcom,” You smiled into his neck. “Or, wait, actually I think a horror movie is much more first date appropriate.”
“Ah, yes, so I can put an arm around you and protect you from all of the scary scenes.”
“Yeah, exactly. Even though it will probably be me doing most of the protecting because I know how you get with scary movies,” You said, and then let out a laugh when he playfully poked your bare side. “Oh, and we should dress up really nice for it too. I expect to see you in a suit, Harrington.”
“Okay, well, in that case, you have to wear your prom dress,” He joked back.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, deal.”
Steve held you tighter against him, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead, and you fell asleep to the feel of his steady breaths fanning against the tip of your ear.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington series#stranger things angst#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things fic#stranger things series
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Thirteen Rounds
Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship
Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?
Word count: 13.2k
Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo
A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪
FOUR WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.
Four weeks no sex.
That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.
He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.
“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.
“Just tired? Training hard today?”
Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.
“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”
He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.
“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”
“WHAT?”
“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.
He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.
“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”
“I know!”
He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.
“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”
“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”
You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.
“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”
He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.
“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”
It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.
“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”
“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”
“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”
You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.
“Please,” he begs. “Please.”
“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”
You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?
“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”
He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.
You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.
“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”
He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.
“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.
“But I’m so wet already.”
Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.
“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.
“FUCK.”
He brings his hands to his face and rubs.
“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”
You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.
When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.
“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”
Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.
He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.
“Jungkook, please.”
He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.
He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.
“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.
He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.
You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.
“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”
His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.
While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.
“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.
“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”
He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.
“I’m going to shower.”
He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.
“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”
He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.
When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.
“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.
He almost chokes on his indignation.
“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”
Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.
“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”
He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.
“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”
Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.
“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”
When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.
“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“
“I can put some clothes on?”
Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.
“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”
“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”
“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”
He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.
“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”
Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.
“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”
You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.
“Night night, my little custard cream.”
“Night night, my love.”
He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.
THREE WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.
At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.
Hence, Me Time.
Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.
You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.
You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.
You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.
You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.
Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.
The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.
“God, I’ve missed that noise.”
You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.
“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”
He shrugs.
“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”
“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”
You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.
He looks at the rabbit, appraising.
“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.
“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”
“Let me help you.”
You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.
“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”
The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.
“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”
He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.
“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.
“Wh-.. I...”
You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.
“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.
You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.
“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.
He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.
“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”
He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.
“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.
You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.
“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.
He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.
“What’s mine is yours, baby.”
“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”
“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”
Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.
“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.
“Don’t call me Jeon.”
“Isn’t it your name?”
He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.
“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.
“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”
His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.
“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”
You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.
“And me all ready for you...”
You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.
“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.
“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.
“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.
“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”
He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”
“Kookie... Please.”
You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.
“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.
“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.
You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.
TWO WEEKS TO GO
Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.
Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.
“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”
He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.
“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”
You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.
“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.
He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.
“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”
You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.
“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”
“No, of course it’s not!”
Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?
He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.
“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“
“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”
He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.
“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”
He is what?
He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.
You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.
He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.
Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.
“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.
It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.
“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”
He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.
You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.
He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.
You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.
“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”
You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.
Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.
“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.
“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“
“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.
“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.
He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.
You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.
“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.
You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.
“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.
“Anything.”
“Ice. And water.”
“Huh?”
“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.
“Ok…”
You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.
With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.
He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.
“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.
“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.
“Go where?”
“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”
“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”
He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.
ONE WEEK TO GO
Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.
You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.
Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.
He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.
Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.
“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.
“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”
You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.
“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”
You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.
“In six days.”
Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.
“Now get the fuck out.”
You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.
Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.
He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.
He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.
“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”
“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”
“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”
He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.
He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.
You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.
It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.
These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.
FIGHT NIGHT
It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.
But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.
He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.
He pulls out his phone and dials your number.
“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”
Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.
“Something is wrong: I miss you.”
“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”
He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.
“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”
“I know and whose fault is that?”
“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”
“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”
“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”
“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”
He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.
“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”
“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”
“Yeah.
“Garibaldi?”
Jungkook laughs.
“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”
“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”
He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.
He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.
Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.
That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.
You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.
But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.
When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.
Jungkook is going to lose.
The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.
This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.
You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.
“8… 9… 10!”
The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.
Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.
“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”
He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.
He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.
He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.
The door opens and there you are.
“Fucking finally.”
Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.
“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”
“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.
Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.
“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”
He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.
“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”
He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.
“Shit.”
He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.
“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”
“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”
Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.
Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.
“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”
You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.
“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”
His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.
“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.
He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.
“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.
His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.
“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”
He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.
“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”
He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.
He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.
You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.
His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.
When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.
���You ok, my love?”
Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.
“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.
Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.
“Kookie.”
You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.
“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.
“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”
You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.
He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”
He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.
“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”
He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.
“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”
“Only mine.”
“Only yours.”
You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.
“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.
“I don’t have it,” you whimper.
“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”
And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.
“Jesus, fuck!”
He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.
Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.
He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.
“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.
You laugh and pat his shoulder.
“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”
“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”
“What title?”
The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.
When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.
“Both, I guess?” you answer.
He grins and shakes his head.
“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”
“What happened?”
“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”
“I fucking told you!”
“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”
“No more sex bans?”
“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”
“Good.”
You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.
“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”
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masterlist
all fics are posted to wattpad first (don't judge a girlie by her primary upload platform </3)
i write about the stars, boys who are carved like greek sculptures, and the inability to communicate in a healthy, functional manner. and i also like to write about bangtan sonyeondan in relation to all of those things.
WATTPAD // AO3 // KO-FI // CARRD
no translations | minors dni | don't be a dick x
JJK
SERIES
THROTTLE
pairing: boyracer!jk x fem reader - mutual disdain to lovers
synopsis: in which jeon jungkook hates speed limits, the local government, and the way that min yoongi looks at you.
current wc: 160,244
warnings: explicit language, drug usage, violence, dangerous driving, smut, and themes of an adult nature. not a mafia au, but teeters around the edges of it. organised crime and corruption are at the heart of the story. the characters have questionable morals and do dumb shit. be prepared to hate them as much as you love them. jungkook is a tittie luvr. no further questions.
BAD DECISIONS
pairing: bartender!jungkook x female reader | strangers-friends-lovers, fwb
synopsis: it’s simple: write your deepest darkest fears on origami birds and string them up on jungkook’s ceiling. when they fall—which they inevitably will, thanks to his cheap daiso washi tape—you have to face the fear. set it free.
the issue? you’ve a fear of intimacy.
jungkook, a fear of rejection.
and you’ve both got the capacity to make some incredibly bad decisions.
current w/c: 450k
notes: smut, fluff, a lil angst, bartender!jk, student!jk, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers (?), fwb, deal arrangement, undefined relationship (they’re just friends! just besties!!), miscommunication, idiots in love, emotional slow burn, bucket list (a.k.a. the birds
BAD DECISIONS SMUT INDEX
ONE SHOTS
extended - 5k words or more
ONCE THE THRILL EXPIRES
pairing: college!jungkook x female reader
synopsis: your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out
wordcount: 5.8K
notes: angsty, smutty turmoil. it’s not that bad, but it definitely isn’t a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that’ll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)
LANDSLIDES
pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)
synopsis: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.
wordcount: 6.8K
warnings: fluff more than angst, but it’s not clean cut - there’s also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you’ve been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol
ONE SHOTS
short - under 5k words
something borrowed
- mafia au | forbidden love
dance with the devil
- royalty au | former lovers
KNJ
ONE SHOTS
short - under 5k words
back to you
- idol au | exes
KSJ
MYG
SERIES
HUSH
pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)
synopsis: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !
current w/c: 17.5k
notes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean… a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you’re jin’s sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he’s sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it’s cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!
PALLADIUM
pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut
synopsis: min yoongi is urgent.
in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent.
how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.
the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent.
but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid.
until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.
wordcount: 3.2K
notes: three part series, fluff, angst, eventual smut, yoongi is incredibly conflicted, the oc is just as dumbfounded by the way she feels, lots of feelings!!
JHS
PJM
KTH
ONE SHOTS
short - under 5k words
sundae (kinda love)
- childhood friends | angst
#bts fanfic#bts masterlist#byholly#jungkook fanfic#namjoon fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook masterlist#jungkook x reader
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NESTING? PLS 😭 like ARE WE CONNECTED SOMEHOW this is so good
i have drowsy knives purring himself to sleep stuck in my head now--THIS IS LITERAL GOLD 😭 it would take a v special s/o to pick up the slight nuances of his emotions too n he'd be head over heels 🥺
but nesting instincts 🥺 please for the love of everything knives elaborate i i i wanna know all there is to know ab this man 🥺👉👈
n maybe vashy seperately too?? 🥴
Authors Note: Turned this into a full post because I'm procrastinating my drabbles anyways lmao this is going to give away a teeny tiny bit of my uncanny Vash post I'm making but I love talking about the Twins and their less than human instincts
Savern Twins Nesting HC's
Knives
•Knives is surprisingly the less embarrassed of the twins about nesting instincts, this is solely based on the fact that he doesn't see his plant qualities to be anything to be ashamed about, it's just another thing that sets him apart from humans
•Although, no one (besides you) knows about Knives nest. You may wonder how the two points can co-exist but that because a Plant's nest is supposed to be somewhere secure and safe. So while he's not embarrassed that he has a nest, he's not going to openly talk about it and risk giving away someone trying to get a peek of it (not that he really openly talks about anything)
•Knives nest is big, he had a bed custom made that's larger than a kings but circular and with plush raised walls so it feels not secure and less in the open. He's collected various blankets and pillows that fill the empty space so that he can bundle up under them, all of it is white because he refuses to let his nest look ugly or disorganized
•He's a perfectionist too so he spends a lot of time organizing and reorganizing his nest. Every time he gets a new blanket or pillow to add he has to redo the whole thing to make sure it's in the perfect spot or else he refuses to sleep in it
•Now Knives doesn't have to sleep much like he doesn't have to eat, but sleeping is something enjoys. He stresses about his plans a lot even if he doesn't show it outwardly. What better way to destress than napping in his nest?
•Whenever he decides to officially make you his mate (yes he calls it that, what else is he supposed to call it? Everything else sounds too human) all his instincts will scream at him to burrow into his nest
•For awhile you'll actually be hard pressed to even be allowed out of the nest, because why would you want to leave? As your mate Knives needs to keep you safe, and where's the safest place in the world? His safest place in the world, so please stop trying to leave the nest- you're hungry? fine he'll bring you food that you can eat in the nest
•I honestly don't think Independents hold body heat because their sisters live in water, which is one of many reasons they nest. It's also why Nai will drag you in with him when he wants to sleep so he can bum off your body heat. That's when when you learn he can purr (yeah thats right Plants purr propaganda) naps like this are the best. It's hard to stay awake when he's got you cuddled under blankets, gentle rumbles lulling you asleep
•After awhile you'll be allowed out so long as you are by his side or being escorted by Legato, or atleast unless you get pregnant
•If Knives manages to get you pregnant...you are banished to the nest again. It's not so bad though, besides he likes you like this. All round and full of his child, surrounded by plush comforters and pillows that cradle your form. At this point he won't leave your side unless he has to, if his instincts were bad before then they are haywire now, he stays curled up with you because theres no way you'd be able to defend yourself in a state like this, it's his job as your mate to keep you and his unborn child safe and sound, tucked away from the rest of the world
•When the baby is born it's where you'll spend most your time too, I mean...c'mon think about it. Your little one all tucked against you and Nai curled protectively around both of you, gentle purrs from both him and your baby as both their plant markings glow ever so slightly? If there's such thing as heaven this is it
•Knives has purposely made his nest large enough to hold his growing family, so no matter how many children you have you'll all get to curl up in the nest to find comfort or just to sleep.
•I think unfortunately once the children hit a certain age they are kicked out of the nest lol, it's more reserved for a Plants mate and young ones, so starting at maybe teen age it's time for them to make their own nest
•This isn't to say they aren't ever allowed in at all though. If Knives children are in any sort of distress his instincts kick in telling him to make sure their safe so in times like that they are still allowed in, the purpose of the nest is to provide him and his family with safety and comfort so no matter what it's there waiting for you
Vash
•Vash is admittedly a bit more embarrassed about the fact that he nest
•He tries his best to blend in with humans and thinks that people might find it weird that his instincts are constantly telling him to grab every soft thing he can find and hunker down
•Not that it really matters because he's always on the run anyways, he doesn't have time to stop and nest in the first place which makes it an easy an excuse to not nest at all, so Vash doesn't have a nest...right?
•Wrong. Like I said it's instinct and even Vash can't help but begin to nest in whatever shitty motel room he's in, especially if he's had a really rough day and just wants to sleep.
•Vash's nest is...admittedly a bit more pitiful than Knives. Knives has the advantage of staying in one spot, Vash does not, so he doesn't have a single nest but more so a hastily made one consisting of anything soft he can find. old blankets, pillows, clothes, rags, and even his own coat all make up his haphazard resting place.
•When he meets you though oh boy does it make it harder to resist the urge to stay and make a nice big nest for the two of you to hide away in
•It takes awhile for you to learn of Vash's little habit because he tries really hard to hide it away. He doesn't want you to think he's weird so when he does show it to you and you don't react negativly he's shyly asking, "do you...want to get in it?"
•Please say yes, his heart can't take any other answer. After that Vash is more keen on nesting even though the two of you travel, you even buy him a couple blankets that you pack up and bring so that he has something more consistant to nest with. The two of you will arrive at the motel for the night and you sit on the bed watching as Vash sleepily mulls over the blankets, pillows, and clothes he's choosen and organses it in a satisfactory way before he weakily pulls you in with him, purring as he cuddles up to you
•If you run your hand through his hair you'll be rewarded with more purrs and him nuzzling into your hand, but don't comment on it or he'll get embarrassed and hide his face into the blankets while he pulls away
•Vash wouldn't try to get you pregnant unless it was after he dealt with his brother and at that point I think he'd have a more permanent nest. Whether that's on Ship 3 or your own little home he's finally got a spot that he knows is always there, perfect to keep you in while you grow your baby!
•Vash loves spending time in the nest, it's from a mixture of putting off his instincts so long when he was on the run and the fact he actually has a place of comfort for once that does it, so if you can't find your partner...he's most likely buried in the nest
•It's super cute though, you'll walk in the room and softly call "Vash?" and his head will peak out of the mountain of blankets eyes still half lidded with sleep and hair all messy as he says a soft "hmm?"
•This nest is still a bit more messy and it's one of those "it looks disorganized but Vash know exactly where everything is" situations, he doesn't really care about colors or anything, infact it's proably mostly blankets that other people have gifted him over the years, he feels like it tells a story
•Unlike Knives, you'll have to be the one to eventually kick the kids out of the nest once they get older because "what do you mean they can't stay in here with us? Their still our baby!" "Vash their 20" "and?"
•Vash's plant marks always appear when he's in the nest, he can't help it! It's so comforting, besides he has you here warming him up and your kids cuddled in the covers- oop he's crying, don't worry they're happy tears
After note: I hope you liked it!!! I wanted to add more stuff about you being able to read Knives but it didn't really fit so that might have to be saved for another list I'm a firm "the boys do weird but cute animal things" believer and it's my job to infect people with that propaganda
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ESTOY ENLOQUECIDO POR TI
GEKKO (MATEO) x reader pt.2
pt.1
summary — you and gekko have been officially dating for five months, and you've been. . . thinking about things. from what was once, "he's so strong" when he's carrying something developed into "could he throw me on the bed?". of course, you never knew how to initiate it. do you just ask him? does it just escalate? do you have to plan it all out? those questions have been bothering you for so long that you straight up decided, fuck it, and searched it up on the internet. well, that was one way to get it started.
note — this is my first time writing smut LMAO. this might be extremely mid or decent, but i hope i don't disappoint with this!! i couldn't stop thinking about mateo yesterday so i decided i would start making this today. I ALSO CAN'T LEAVE THE MATEO SMUT TAG HAVE ONLY ONE FIC, on that note go check it out its so fucking good i love it.
w/c — 2.5k
warnings — (bad) smut, oral (f receiving), rough (ish), praise, tones of dumbification, kitchen sex, undertones of dom reader but mostly d. gekko and s. reader
not proofread + i am not responsible for any minors interacting w this post
you were done with it.
you were done waiting for your own confidence to go up just so you could. . . have sex with mateo.
just thinking about it had you red.
now that the two of you had finally moved in together, there was even less of a time that you could just do things yourself without him noticing. before you could masturbate whenever you wanted, as loud as you wanted. now you couldn't risk him hearing out of embarrassment.
it's been five months since the two of you had got together, and not once had either of you escalated past a few brief touches under shirts while kissing. mateo hadn't even seen you naked, or even with just a bra and underwear.
you knew that it would be this way until you did something about it. but the thing is, you don't know how.
and that led you here, legs crossed on your shared bed. you took a deep breath and began typing into the laptop on your lap.
"what the fuck do i even type?" you muttered under your breath.
"how to start sex? no, that sounds weird as fuck. how to get in the mood for sex?" you typed that, and instantly glanced towards the door, feeling as if mateo would walk in at any moment.
you were really picky about what websites you went on. you didn't need a whole porn video, but you also didn't need tips on how to get yourself horny.
researching harder than you do for homework, you didn't realize that the door creaked open.
"hey, chica. are you okay with a sandwich for lunch?" he said, alerting you of his presence.
without thinking, you quickly slammed the lid of the computer shut.
he gazed at you questionably, raising his eyebrow. "what was that?"
"it's nothing," you lied terribly.
his eyes narrowed. he could usually tell when you were lying, and it was obvious.
"but i'd love a sandwich," you tried changing the subject, hoping that he'd take the hint you wouldn't tell him.
"whatever you say, hermosa," he gave you a two-finger salute as he walked out the room.
you sighed in relief and opened the laptop again. so far, you had no luck. you did find some tips, but there was no way you were asking him, "hey, wanna fuck?"
you rubbed your hands against your face and let out a long groan. all this trouble just to ask him to destroy you? you flushed thinking about it.
deciding that you needed a break, you set the laptop down, angling the screen so that it wasn't wide open, but it wasn't quite closed.
you made your way downstairs, walking in the kitchen to see mateo with a big red stain on his shirt.
"holy shit, are you okay?" you ran over to him.
"i'm fine princesa. it's just ketchup. did you think it was blood?" he laughed.
you scowled and grabbed the sandwich on the counter, taking a big bite.
"hey, you're the one who thought it was blood, not me." he put his hands up in defense when you glared at him. "thanks for worrying about me though."
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face contradicted your irritated behavior.
"yeah, yeah. but if you're ever covered in blood don't expect me to come running."
"my heart," he pouted as he held his hand to his heart.
"don't you have to go get changed?" you questioned, trying to wipe the puppy-eyed look off his face.
"i probably should. look at you with the big ideas," he left the kitchen after giving you a peck on the cheek.
by the time he'd come back, you were busy washing the plate that you had used. he was silent, so when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you jumped and yelped in surprise.
"holy shit mateo, don't scare me like that!" you splashed him with some water, earning a chuckle.
"my bad chica," he apologized.
he stayed still for a few seconds, before he buried his head in the crook of your neck and start giving you little kisses.
"teo?"you questioned him while your face turned hot.
he hummed in response, continuing to trail open mouthed kisses along your neck. you tried your hardest not to gasp and tilt your neck.
"c'mon mateo, at least let me put this on the drying rack." you didn't trust yourself not to drop the plate and immediately go wild on this man.
that got him to stop, and you quickly put the plate on the rack and dried your hands.
"okay, hermoso. what are you doing?" you faced him, and he immediately caged you in against the counter.
your back hit the curved ledge, and his arms were on either side of you.
"what were you doing?" he asked instead of answering, inching closer.
"what do you mean me?" you were trying to convince yourself that he didn't know what you were doing upstairs, and that instead he was tricking you into saying it.
he didn't reply, but used one of his hands to pull you in, your arms automatically wrapping around his neck.
you'd never get used to how soft his lips were, the routine bite he always does to your lips whenever you make out. but this time was different. there wasn't more passion, but there was another emotion in how he pulls you closer to him
you could feel his smile, and when you pulled away, he had the goofiest grin on his face. his hand trailed up your thigh, stopping right before it got where you wanted it.
"teo," you frowned at him.
"what? is there something you want?" he teased you, inching closer to your core.
you averted your eyes, finding sudden interest in the ceiling. a sudden force tilts your chin back to face him.
"i asked you a question," he cooed.
you looked up at him through hooded eyes, and decided what's the worst that can happen?
you leaned your hips forward and grinded against his waist, letting out one long moan. he quickly stopped you with a harsh grip on your hips.
"does that say enough?" you said cockily.
"you have to use your words, hermosa. maybe i'll reward you."
you were tired of waiting, squirming at how uncomfortable it was in your shorts. from what you could see, he was too with the tent in his pants.
"i need you. i want you so bad." you whimpered, locking eyes with him.
he thought about it.
"what do you want?" he asked, his fingers making their way to your waistband and slowly inching it down your thighs. it left shivers coursing throughout your entire body, even though you felt on fire.
"i just want you. i want you to fuck me until i can't think anymore." you started rambling before you felt a pressure at your entrance.
he slipped a finger inside and curled it, and you slumped forward and found purchase on his shoulders.
"holy fuck mateo," you breathily said. "a little warning?"
"not my fault you weren't paying attention," he chuckled as he inserted another finger.
you've never bothered to use more than two fingers, but when mateo does it, it feels. . . different. you knew that you would never be able to replicate the same feeling that he makes you feel.
you could hear the noises as he went faster, along with the noises steadily pouring out your mouth.
"wait, fuck. . . mateo," you started speaking only to be interrupted by him sliding his fingers out and holding them up.
"damn chica, you're wet as fuck."
you almost died of embarrassment right then and there, but before you knew it, mateo dived between your legs.
you whimpered at his warm breath making contact with your folds, and just how you dreamed of, mateo went straight to work.
"fuck! teo, it feels so good," he hummed in response to your praise, pulling your legs over his shoulders while keeping your legs spread.
you threw your head back, letting out the most pornographic moan you've ever heard as your hand shot to his hair.
little whimpers and moans filled the room as you began to grind against his mouth. usually you'd last a lot longer than this, but either because you had been waiting months for this moment or the fact that mateo was eating you out, you felt something in your stomach tighten.
"mateo, stop, please." you slurred out, trying to use your hand to push him away. but he wouldn't move. he wanted to feel you cum around his tongue, and he stood by that.
he made a little motion with his head, shaking it side to side, still eagerly lapping away at you.
"i wanna cum with you, please i want it so bad." you blurted out, and that caused him to stop. you whined at the sudden cold air. well, he couldn't exactly pass up that offer, huh? especially when you begged so nicely and deperately.
"you always know what to say, chica," he grinned as he began unbuckling his pants.
"well, i didn't know what to say for it to come to this." you didn't know a single word that could've cause this to happen. not that you were complaining, but you might need that word for future reference.
"me about to fuck you stupid? i wouldn't know what to say either," you heard his pants fall to the floor and he angled you on the counter for you to be comfortable.
"this alright babe?" he asked, looking into your eyes for a clear answer. you stared back, impatient.
"just hurry up and fuck me," you nodded.
"i could stop right now."
"you wouldn't dare," you narrowed your eyes and before he could respond, you slammed yourself onto his cock.
he let out a groan his hands making their way to the bottom of your thighs to lift you up. although the beginning was rough, he started off slow.
"you know how long i've wanted to do this to you?" he said while picking up speed. your hands instinctively went up to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but he pulled them away and pinned your wrists behind your back.
you shook your head. he watched as you didn't know where to look, eyes darting everywhere. from his chest, to his eyes, all the way down to where he was currently destroying you. then you'd get embarrassed and look away to start the cycle all over again.
"hey princesa. eyes on me," he loved seeing you not know what to do. as obedient as you are, you immediately locked eyes with him. "good girl. always so good for me, hmm?"
you nearly came as soon as he said that, tightening around his thick cock.
"oh, you like that?" you knew he'd use this against you forever. but now wasn't the time for you to be worrying about that. in fact, you couldn't think at all. you were understanding what he was saying but couldn't form a single response.
"i asked you a question." he began slowing down as if you didn't answer, he'd stop entirely. and you didn't want that.
quickly you answered, "i- mm, i love it," you slurred out.
"what was that?" he went back to his ungodly pace, and it took you even longer to piece a sentence together, letting out a moan every single time he hit your g-spot. you could swear you saw a little bump in your stomach every time he was fully in.
"i fucking love it, teo," you whimpered out, every word emphasized by the slapping of his hips against the apex of your thighs.
he would've blushed at this, but considering that he had in fact, been waiting so long for this, he attempted to go even faster and harder.
you were borderline drooling, if it wasn't for mateo holding you, you'd be lying back as far as you could. you went to grab for his back, before you realized that your wrists were still in his grasp.
"need to touch you," you whined.
he contemplated for a moment before releasing his constraint on you, and while you went straight for his back, his hands went up your shirt. the cold feel against your burning skin made you jump.
he had been letting out little moans and whimpers, but you could tell he was getting close with how they increased in volume and he began rutting into you like his life depended on it.
your moans were quieted but his lips on yours, and you began to feel that telltale knot in your stomach. it was as if he noticed this, as he broke the kiss and asked, "are you gonna cum?"
if you weren't in this position getting fucked until you couldn't think, you would've said, "isn't it obvious, dumbass?" but considering the fact he had you drooling on his dick that probably wouldn't be the best response.
you hurriedly nodded, and you could see the beginning of a smirk on his face.
"c'mon hermosa, you can do it. come for me," he trailed off into a long moan as you creamed around him, feeling as mateo did one last hard thrust and buried his head in the crook of your neck to mask his sounds.
the two of you stayed still in silence, only hearing each other's heavy breaths.
"did you mess up my hair?" you asked, blowing away strands of hair from your face.
"i think if your hair was fine, it wouldn't be much of a good time," you closed your legs as soon as he slid out, feeling something hot drip out of you.
"well, i think that i need to take a nice long shower." you attempted to get off the counter as mateo put his pants back on, but he stopped you.
"let me carry you, mi princesa. don't need you tripping." he gestured to you slightly trembling thighs.
you closed your thighs tighter together in embarrassment, as if didn't just cum in you a few minutes ago. he laughed at this and went to pick you up bridal style.
"y'know, this was what i was talking about when we first met. how we could be doing something else instead of dancing."
"why the fuck did it take you so long then, hm?" you jokingly punched his chest.
"well, why did you have to search up how to ask?" he shot back.
you totally forgot you left your laptop on the bed. it was open enough for anyone that goes by to glance at it and see at least half of what was on the screen.
and he went into the room to change his clothes.
"oh, fuck you teo," you hmphed and crossed your arms.
"you just did," he winked.
I HAD TO REWRITE THIS THREE FUCKING TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDN'T SAVE. THREE. I ACTUALLY LOST IT.
also how tf do u talk about pussy. like do you say pussy? vagina? entrance? core? heat? THIS IS SO HARD. btw i was so embarrassed making this that some parts might not make sense or be repetitive. im sorry
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#never writing smut again unless yall like it#my mind is a lot worse than this i js cant put it into words#x reader#smut#mateo x reader#mateo x reader smut#gekko x reader#gekko x reader smut#valorant smut#valorant x reader smut#valorant x reader#valorant
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making a dashboard simulator post from my octopus world that is so inscrutable .
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🐕 themodernwisdom
stop fucking telling me it’s problematic to have “humans dni” on my carrd none of you understand how traumatizing a symbiosis breakup can be.
👨💻 typical-hue-man follow
traumatizing for who 🤨 lmao you weren’t even the one dependent on them for survival
🐕 themodernwisdom
do you not know what dni means.
#blocked. #youd think after all these millennia they’d evolve some reading comprehension
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⚡️ psychiclesbian
like i don’t esp like how often were asked about our sex life but like yea i mean they’re right. tentacles 👍👍
#minors dni #like if they rly want to know just find an octopus whos dtf not that hard #i mean. okay maybe a bit hard. but idk they’re online sometimes?
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🎛 oldstructuremusings
just got the most insane piece of fanmail what the fuck. why is this child learning local human language from my radio show. in the middle of the fucking ocean. apparently they can’t pick anything else up that isn’t the occasional raven station but like i feel like i have some sort of responsibility to not teach this kid how to say fuck every five seconds.
#text #its probably too late tbh #if the kid is seeing this. get off of tumblr
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🦋 lonesomedreamer 🔁 why-no-pigeon-emoji follow
🐦 why-no-pigeon-emoji follow
does anyone know how human symbiosis works i saved this guys life right after his cat friend died and i think he is getting attached. or something.
🚧 mazemaster follow
ur not a dog or cat ur fine.
🦋 lonesomedreamer
it’s a common misconception, but humans can actually form symbiotic bonds with any sapient creature, actually! the relationship mostly helps with their social and mental requirements, and if there are enough humans in an area to form a community, they’re actually not at all reliant on forming interspecies symbiotic relationships! doesn’t really happen where i’m from though, i think last i heard there are maybe 6 humans in the area max 😅
🐦 why-no-pigeon-emoji follow
everyone stfu he made us matching outfits im gonna cry
#omg this is so cute 🥺 #i'm glad things worked out
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🌿 grasstoucher 🔁 toogenericusername follow
🐚 molluskfan12 follow
currently keeping some smaller snails atm after you-know-what >_> their shells are a more fragile but the meat is better imo. hope it'll work out still!!
🪶 aviandinosaurs follow
cottagecore bloggers off the shits lmao what is this
🐚 molluskfan12 follow
what the fuck is a cottagecore
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⚡️ psychiclesbian 🔁 undereclipse follow
🗼 prehistoric-structures follow
i'm curious!!!
🌅 sundownscare follow
op i appreciate the button for humans in theory but are you under the impression that we don't show up in our own creation myths???
🕸️ veryseriousmonkey follow
maybe they just want to know about other species, like humans appearing in their own myths is p much a given lol
🗼 prehistoric-structures follow
oh yeah thats... totally why that's there
#they forgor 💀
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🌿 grasstoucher
do you think they had discourse like this pre climate disaster like it was just humans at that point how bad could it rly be
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Magnet & Steel - Part One
a/n: I was updating my masterlist and I realized I never posted the first part of this on here!! I wrote this in sept 2021, before my life fell apart lmao there are several other parts on patreon. I was updating my masterlist because I realized I never added any of the "part one"'s to the patreon fics that I post on here. Hope this still holds up! REMEMBER TO REBLOG
Here's my author's note from when I originally posted: I haven't done a "college" fic in a while, so here we are! Penelope is 21, and Harry is turning 24. He's a TA for her senior major course, but they met over the summer under an odd circumstance. Can't wait to know what you think! [Inspired by this song]
Warnings: threesome (😮) angst, lots of smut
Words: 15.7K
Don’t ask Penelope how she ended up in a threesome. All she knows is that she agreed to one. School was about to start, and she was out with a guy she was having a casual fling with. They were getting drinks when he brought up the subject to her. She was hesitant at first, but when Luke said it would be with his friend Harry, Penelope felt a little more comfortable. She’s straight, and as much as she’d like to think she’d be adventurous enough to hook up with another girl, she just wasn’t. But the idea of having two guys going to town on her? Yes, please! She was also more than willing after Luke showed her a picture of Harry. Luke and Harry weren’t close, but Luke had really been wanting to check off having a threesome on his “Things To Do Before I Graduate” list. So, she agreed.
Luke set everything up, all Penelope had to do was show up at a hotel with whatever types of condoms she prefers, and her favorite type of alcohol (if she felt like drinking). She didn’t tell her friends what she was up to, just that she was spending the night with her fuck buddy, Luke. No one gave it a second thought.
She got the key card in a cute little box that Luke left for her, making her feel all the more special. She takes a deep breath in the elevator up to the room. She swipes the card, and enters. Luke and Harry both greet her with warm smiles. Luke introduces them, and the three of them laugh a bit over the situation. They all take a couple of shots of vodka before getting started. Luke had put together a playlist to set the mood. Harry dimmed the lighting by putting a sheer scarf over one of the lamps.
Luke wanted to make sure Penelope was comfortable, so he started off by asking her questions. Harry did the same. They all wanted to make sure everyone was okay with what they were about to do, and if anyone wanted to stop at any point, they would. And so, once they get all of that settled, Luke begins by kissing Penelope.
The three are sat on the bed. Penelope shivers when she feels Harry move the strap of her tank top off her shoulder for him to kiss on. She places a hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze. She didn’t want anyone feeling left out. Luke gestures for her to turn to kiss Harry, and she blushes before doing so. He smiles into the kiss, and she moans softly as Luke’s hands grope her breasts.
Before long, they’re all completely naked. All of their lips are swollen from kissing. Penelope’s on all fours, sucking Luke’s cock while Harry eats her out from behind. She feels bad because she can barely concentrate on making Luke feel good. Harry’s tonguing her asshole while he’s three fingers knuckle deep in her pussy. She has to pop off of Luke, and just pump him with her hand. She can feel an odd pressure building, one that she hasn’t felt before. Without warning, she’s drenching Harry’s fingers and wrist. So much so, some of it even gets onto his chest. She lays on her back to catch her breath while Luke licks the mess off Harry’s fingers. Her mouth falls open as she watches them. She whimpers, feeling turned on from the erotic sight before her.
The only snag happens after they’re all through with the foreplay. Both of the boys want to fuck Penelope, and they weren’t sure how to do that so it was fair. Harry mentions that Luke had gotten to fuck her plenty of times, so he already knows what it feels like. They ask her if she could take one after the other, but she shakes her head no. Then they agree on whoever doesn’t get to have her cunt can have her mouth.
“I want Harry to fuck me.” Penelope says. She can see the tinge of disappointment on Luke’s face, even with the dim lighting. “It’s like he said, you’ve had me before.” She leans back on her elbows, opening her legs. “Don’t you wanna share so Harry can feel how tight and wet I am?”
Both of the boys lose their minds. Harry gets a condom on and flips Penelope onto her stomach. He pulls her hips back and enters her. Her mouth falls open, in shock from how much bigger he is than Luke. Luke gets in front of her, and feeds her his cock. (She got to suck on Harry’s earlier too. They even took turns fingering her and eating her out.) She moans around Luke when she feels Harry start to hit her g-spot. She sucks Luke’s cock faster, she needed him to come fast so she could fully enjoy Harry. And that’s exactly what happens. While Luke recovers, Penelope rubs her clit and Harry continues to pound into her. She cries out when she comes, and instead of Harry spilling into the condom, he pulls out, sits up against the headboard, and pulls Penelope onto his lap. She sinks down on him reverse, and he holds her wrists behind her back.
“Luke, rub her clit for me.” Harry grunts, thrusting up into her.
Luke does as Harry says, rubbing Penelope’s clit while licking into her mouth. Harry bites and sucks on the crook of her neck. Her back arches into him over and over, and her hips match his on every thrust. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as she comes again. Harry comes next, his body going slack against the headboard.
The three of them sit for a moment before cleaning themselves up. The boys let Penelope use the bathroom first, which she’s grateful for because she needed to pee desperately. Harry goes next, then Luke. None of them were going to stay the night, so they tidy up before heading out. They’re all exhausted, but none of them wanted to wake up in that hotel room where so much had gone down. They say their goodbyes after checking out, and that’s that.
The next time Penelope hooks up with Luke, all she can think about is Harry. He just fucked her so much better than Luke ever did. He was shocked when she told him she didn’t want to be fuck buddies anymore.
“I just think we’ve reached the finish line of whatever this is between us. It was fun for the summer, but I need to focus on school. We also both go to different schools, so…”
“I just thought we had something good going. Where did things go wrong?”
“Nothing went wrong, I…I just don’t see this turning into anything more.”
“Is this because of the threesome? Should we not have done it?”
“No! I’m glad we did it, it was fun. I’m sorry, I just don’t want…I don’t want to hook up with you anymore.”
“Harsh, Pen.” Luke sighs. “Is it Harry? Do you like him?”
“I only met him that one time. I haven’t seen or talked to him since. You and I would have drifted apart after school started anyways. This is for the best.”
The truth was she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. No one had ever made her squirt before, and she couldn’t get the thought of it out of her mind. She’d do anything to feel that good again. But she didn’t know his last name, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Luke. She’ll just have to think of him fondly.
//
Call her basic, but Penelope is an English major with a concentration in writing. She has a graphic design minor as a backup, and already has plenty of freelance work lined up, so she’s not super worried about what she’s going to do after she graduates. She loves writing, and is hoping to make it a career someday, but for now she’s just trying to get through her senior year.
With that, her fall load is a mix of high level courses, and a couple of easy graphic design courses. The high level one she has to take for her major is called Critical Theory. She wasn’t sure if she was dreading this class, or if she was excited about it. Ever the proactive person, before class Penelope looked over the course description:
Critical Theory seeks acquaint students with specific modern and contemporary schools of literary theory including: Formalism, Reader Response, Psychoanalysis, Structuralism, Semiotics, Marxism, Poststructuralism, Feminism, Queer Theory, Postcolonial Theory and New Historicism. More importantly, students begin to develop their own theoretical approach, informed by what they learn from reading important literary theorists.
She was excited about diving into all of the different types of theory, she just wasn’t excited about who was teaching it. The class is taught by this older woman who is a tenured English faculty member. She has a bad reputation for being overly serious, and makes the class feel so mundane. It’s a senior level course, shouldn’t it be fun? Professor Allen didn’t seem to think so.
Penelope heads to class with her friend, Ryan, who is also one of her roommates. Ryan was one of the few people Penelope told about her escapades over the summer. He’s a no judgement kind of guy, and has been besties with Penelope since their freshman year. They met in their first major course, and became inseparable. She also happens to know that Ryan has had a threesome before as well, and his was also with two other guys.
The two walk into their classroom. It seats about forty, so it’s not small, but it’s also not one of those giant lecture halls you’d see on television. They sit in the third row from the front, a happy medium, and get settled. Other students trickle in as the time gets closer to class starting. Penelope and Ryan both sip on their iced coffees and scroll through Instagrams on their respective phones. It’s a 9AM class, it’s not insanely early, but it’s still a little too early to function enough for small talk. The light sound of chatter dissolves as Professor Allen walks into the room. A young man walks in behind her, and Penelope nearly chokes on her coffee.
“Good morning, class!” Professor Allen says, somewhat cheerfully. “I have some news before we get started. Some of you have known me for quite some time, so I won’t mince words. I’m having a medical procedure done in a couple of weeks that will have me bedridden for the remainder of the semester, so all of my courses will be instructed by some trusted TA’s. This is one of them, Harry Styles. I’ll be letting him take the lead and just observe before I’m out for the rest of the semester. Please pay him the same respect you would me. Harry, go on and introduce yourself.” Professor Allen smiles at him, and he nods.
“Yeah, hi, everyone. My name’s Harry, feel free to just call me that. I’m a grad student going for my MEd, and then eventually my PhD, so I’ll be here for a while.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was an English major during my undergrad career, so I’m hoping we can all get along. I’ve only ever taught online before, but I’m really passionate about what we’ll be discussing in this class, so I think we’ll be alright.”
“Thank you, Harry.” Professor Allen smiles. “Go on and take roll, I’m going to pull up the course page and syllabus.”
Harry nods, and grabs a notebook from his bag. Penelope is sweating, squirming in her seat. Ryan looks at her puzzled, having no idea why she’s suddenly so out of sorts. Harry calls out each name, and asks if there’s any specific preferred names or pronouns he should be aware of. Then he gets to Penelope…
“Penelope Quentin.” He reads, and then his eyes widen when he fully registers the name. He looks ups when he hears her.
“Here.” She says quietly. The two make eye contact for a moment too long before he moves on to the next name. “Shit.” She says under her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan whispers to her.
“That’s Harry…from the you know what with Luke.” She whispers back, and Ryan’s jaw drops.
“Oh, shit.”
“What am I gonna do? This class is only offered in the fall, so I can’t drop it.”
“Just relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Penelope and Ryan, I’m not afraid to separate you two.” Professor Allen says. Penelope notices the small smirk on Harry’s lips as Professor Allen begins going over the syllabus. Harry chimes in from time to time as well. “Since I won’t be here, I won’t be having office hours. Harry will be taking over my office, so you can see him during his office hours. Please try to remember that he’s not only teaching, but he’s a student too.”
Professor Allen is tough, but fair. That’s probably her one redeemable quality. Harry goes over the course page, and talks about the books needed for class. He goes over a couple of big assignments, but other than that, there’s not much else since it’s just the first week. It’s a relief when class is dismissed early. Penelope wants to get out of there as soon as possible. She’s right behind Ryan, but feels a slight tug on her elbow. She turns to look at Harry, and she feels about two inches tall.
“Hey…do you have a minute?” He asks awkwardly, putting his things in his bag.
“Um…sure, my next class isn’t until eleven, so…I’ve got a bit of time.” She looks back at Ryan. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Ryan nods and leaves the classroom. Penelope follows Harry out, and they walk in an awkward silence out of the building. They walk until they get to the student union, and grab a table at the student café.
“I’m gonna grab a coffee, do you need another?” He asks.
“No, um, I think one is plenty for today, thank you.”
Harry nods and goes up to get himself a coffee. He returns with a small cup, and a large chocolate chip cookie. He nudges it towards Penelope, and she raises an eyebrow at him.
“Had to get you something.” He shrugs, and takes a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, um, thanks. This’ll be a nice treat for later.”
“I…I assumed you went to the same school as Luke.” He blurts out. “I had no idea you went here, and I didn’t even have a chance to check the class roster beforehand this morning.”
“No, it’s okay. Luke and I worked at the same restaurant this summer, that’s how we met and got familiar. I assumed you two went to school together.”
“No.” Harry shakes his head. “We went to high school together, we were on the same basketball team.”
“Oh…I guess we didn’t exactly have time to get to know each other given the circumstances.”
“It’s better when you keep your distance for things like that.”
“Had you ever hooked up with him before?”
“No.” Harry chuckles. “But I knew he was bi, and I knew he was sort of into me, so when he asked if I wanted to participate I thought it would be fun. Especially after he showed me a couple of pictures of you. Are you two still seeing each other, or…?”
“No, I broke things off with him a couple of weeks ago. We weren’t anything serious to begin with, we were just hookup buddies, you know? I don’t really want a boyfriend right now. Being tied down before graduating doesn’t sound like a great idea.”
“I completely get that, you’re preaching to the choir. I hope you won’t be uncomfortable with me teaching your class. You seemed so frazzled before.”
“I was in shock. You were the last person I expected to see today, and my friend Ryan is the only one who knows about the…about the threesome.” She whispers the word. “I’m not exactly known for being, well, for being a hole.”
“Oh my god.” Harry laughs. “You’re funny, you know that? So, what, you didn’t tell your other friends that you let two guys have their way with you?”
“No.” She blushes, a small smile gracing her lips. “I think they’d be in shock from the information alone. I had a good time with the both of you, it was fun.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Although…I think going forward I’ll stick to just fucking one person at a time. I was super tired the next couple of days.”
“It’s a lot of work, being a hole.” He smirks, leaning back in his chair. Penelope laughs at that, and finishes off what’s left of her iced coffee. “It was my first time doing something like that too. I’ve always been curious about the appeal. I had a tough time holding back.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you were Luke’s girl, or so I thought, so I didn’t want to be the leader, but there were a lot of times I just wanted to push him out of the way. You’re very…you’re very cute, and I kind of just wanted you to myself after we really got started.”
“You were sort of greedy with me.” She’s trying so hard to save face. She wants to melt into a puddle. The guy she’s been thinking about non-stop for weeks not only thinks she’s cute, but has just admitted that he wanted her all to himself. “I didn’t mind it though.”
“Fed my ego when you outright said you wanted me to fuck you.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Harry nods at that, and they both lean in so Penelope can easily whisper. “There were times I wanted to push Luke out of the way too.” Harry grins a beaming smile at Penelope. She sits back in her chair and chews on her bottom lip. “So, um, what do we do?”
“About?”
“Class.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to do. I didn’t know you’d be in my class when we did what we did. No harm done.”
“But what if, um, what if…we want to-“
“Oh!” Harry’s surprised since Penelope didn’t try to connect with him after everything. “You’d wanna hook up again?”
“Yeah.” She blushes.
“Little cliché, isn’t it?” Harry smirks. “A student fucking their TA?”
“I met you beforehand…it wouldn’t be totally wrong, would it?”
“You like doing things you’re not technically supposed to do, don’t you.” It’s not a question. Penelope can feel the heat in her cheeks getting warmer. Harry leans in a little more, making sure absolutely no one will be able to hear him. “And all this time I thought you were a good girl.”
“I am.” She swallows. “Or…I could just be good for you, maybe.” Harry’s eyebrows raise at that. “I could be your good girl.”
“Jesus Christ.” Harry sits back and fans himself with his hand playfully. “We’d have to keep it quiet. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re screwing me to get a good grade.”
“I don’t need to screw you to get a good grade, thank you very much.” She smirks. “But I agree, it’s probably a good idea not to blab about it. Ryan will know, he can read me like a book.”
“It’s probably good to tell at least one friend. Secrets like these can be hard to keep sometimes.” Harry takes out his phone, and slides it to her. “Put your number in. You mentioned before you’re not looking for a boyfriend.” Penelope hums her response as she creates a contact for herself in Harry’s phone. “Well, I’m not looking for a girlfriend either. I’m happy to not fuck anyone else if that’s what you’d prefer, but I won’t be taking you out on any dates, and I might not call the next day. This has to be just sex.”
“Good, because that’s all I want from you.” She slides his phone back over to him. “I texted myself.” She gathers her things and stands up. “I need to run home quick before my next class. See you around.”
“Yeah, see you, Penelope.”
//
“From how mortified you were in class I never would have thought you’d leave your chat having made a new fuck buddy.” Ryan laughs later on that day as Penelope tells him what happened. “Good for you, he’s as cute as you said.”
“And this time I won’t have to share.” Penelope grins. “Ry, when I tell you a dick has never felt this good. I mean, fuck.”
“Are you gonna tell Luke?”
“No, why would I?”
“Because you’ll eventually end up working together again. Don’t you think it’ll be weird for him?”
“No.” Penelope shakes her head. “This whole thing probably won’t last long anyways. We’ll probably fuck, like, once, and that’ll be it.” She shrugs.
//
The rest of the week goes by in a blur. Syllabus week is usually pretty chill. During lecture on Wednesday, Professor Allen did most of the talking so Harry could observe. His eyes would occasionally drift over to Penelope. When their eyes would catch, they would both smile shyly before looking away.
Being a senior means having no classes on Fridays, which means Thursday nights are for drinking, and going to parties. With it being the first weekend of the semester, it was bound to be crazy. Penelope and her friends get invited to a few different houses, so they pregame at their own apartment before heading out. They go in and out of a few different houses, saying hi to friends, then Penelope and Ryan break off to go to the bars downtown.
“No fucking way.” Penelope says. “That’s Harry!”
Harry’s making drinks behind the bar, and Penelope goes right up, batting her lashes. He smirks and leans his forearms on the bar.
“What can I get for you, beautiful?”
“Two Grateful Deads, please.”
“You got it.” Harry makes up the drinks, and gives them to Penelope and Ryan. “They’re on me.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Penelope says.
“I want to.”
“Here, then, how about a fat tip?” Ryan puts a ten dollar bill on the bar, and Harry happily takes it.
“Don’t think this is a bribe for a good grade, now.” Harry teases.
“Me? Never.” Ryan puts a hand up in defense. “Pen, I’m gonna go see if Alex is here. Are you good?”
“Mhm, go have fun.” She smiles, and turns back to Harry. “How do you have time to work here?”
“I just do.” He shrugs. “I’m only the TA for our class, and I’m only taking three grad classes this semester. Two of which are online asynchronous, so it’s fine. The stipend I get is just enough to cover housing and some other bills. This’ll help me not live paycheck to paycheck.”
“That’s smart.”
“You didn’t think I was stupid, did you?” He leans a little farther forward.
“Maybe a little, since you didn’t ask for my number right away.”
“I thought you and Luke were a legitimate item!” Harry laughs, standing back up straight.
“If that were the case, it would have been a little fucked up for us to have a threesome. And even more fucked up of me to choose you over him, don’t you think?”
“I guess, yeah.” He sees he’s getting waved down by someone for another round. “I have to tend to the customers. Stay here? I can chat between orders.”
“Okay.”
Penelope watches as Harry tends to the bar. She watches as other people try to flirt with him. She feels a tinge of jealousy, but she gets over it because she knows that no one else will have the chance to know him like she does.
“I’m surprised you’re not at some big house party.” Harry says to her a little later on.
“We stopped by a few places earlier to say hi, but now that we’re all of age it’s more fun to come down here where we don’t have to worry about the cops coming to shut the party down.”
“Very true.”
“So, are you going to work here all semester?”
“I don’t know yet. This was honestly just a summer gig. I think I might work through September, and then see. I’d like to have fun with my friends too.” He notices that Penelope’s glass is empty. “Do you want another?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Are you gonna take me home tonight?”
“Do you want me to?” She nods her head yes. “Alright.” He smiles.
“Then I’ll just have water. I don’t wanna be wasted if you’re going to fuck me.” Harry chuckles at that, and gets her some ice water. “Thanks.” She takes a big gulp. “I’m gonna go find Ryan and dance for a bit. What time do you get off, are you here ‘til close?”
“Nope.” Harry smiles. “I’m only on the clock for another hour. Go have fun, I’ll grab you later.”
Penelope smiles, takes her glass of water, and heads towards the dance floor. She finds Ryan, and he pulls her closer to dance with him. An hour or so later, Harry makes his way through the crowded dance floor, and finds Penelope. He taps her shoulder, and she turns around. He asks if she wants to dance and she nods, turning back around to press her ass against his pelvis. His hands grip her hips, and they move along to the music together.
“So, my place or yours?” Harry asks Penelope after a few songs. She chews on her bottom lip.
“Mine, then you won’t have to worry about walking me back when we’re done.” She grins.
“Smart.” He drapes his arm around her shoulders, keeping her pressed into his side. “Ryan, we’re gonna head out, are you good?”
“Yeah! See you later.” Ryan smiles. He was dancing with Alex, so he was perfectly content.
Penelope and Harry make their way out of the bar, and to her apartment. She keys inside the building, and leads Harry up two flights of stairs before reaching their destination. She puts a finger up to her lips, signaling to him that he needs to be quiet. Her other roommates could easily be back and asleep, and she didn’t want to wake them. They walk quietly, yet with a purpose, to Penelope’s bedroom. Once they’re in, she locks the door behind them. He comes up to her, pressing her gently against the door, and slotting his mouth over hers.
“You still want to?” Harry asks as he kisses a trail to her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t.”
“No, I want to. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Harry pauses his kissing to step back and look at her with raised eyebrows. “I…I mean, like, that night…I’ve wanted you to fuck me again for a while. Shit, did I just ruin it?”
“You didn’t ruin anything.” He smiles softly at her. “I’m just surprised, is all. I barely got to do half of the shit I wanted with you, and yet I was still able to leave a lasting impression.”
“You know your dick is big.” Her face flushes.
“Was that the only memorable part?” He presses his thigh between hers, causing her to grunt.
“No.” Truth be told, Penelope couldn’t get a single part of him out of her mind since that night. Every kiss, every touch, every moan…there was just something so alluring about Harry, and she had wanted him again desperately. “Please, I…don’t tease me right now. I’m too riled up for that.”
“Ah, so you just want it hard and fast tonight, is that it?”
“Yes.” She tugs on the collar of his shirt, pulling him back down to her to kiss. She bites down and sucks on his bottom lip. “Please, Harry.”
He cups her jaw, licking into her mouth, then tugs her back to her bed. They both fall on top of it, and fumble around to get their clothes off. He nips at various parts of her breasts and chest, working his way down to between her legs. Her back arches as his tongue licks a fat stripe up her slit. He spits down on her pussy, then licks over her clit, swirling his tongue around the small bud. Penelope fists at her blankets, and grits her teeth. Harry rubs his fingers around her entrance before slipping his index and middle inside. She squirms a bit from the intensity of it all. His mouth is making a mess of her clit while his fingers thrust in out of her in search for her g-spot.
“Shit, right there!” She gasps, then claps her hand over her mouth.
Harry groans against her, feeling how wet he’s making her with what he’s doing. He can feel her tightening around his fingers. He wonders if she’ll squirt again like she did the last time he was between her legs like this. He hopes she does, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. A few more strokes of his fingers and she’s gushing. Harry quickly removes his fingers from inside her, and rubs her clit rapidly. He has to use his other hand to hold one of Penelope’s legs down so she won’t close them. Her comforter is soaked. She thinks he’s going to give her a moment to catch her breath when he takes his hand away, but she gasps when she feels his hot mouth back on her, licking away at the mess she made.
“Does that happen a lot?” Harry asks her as he kisses his way back up her body.
“No.” She reaches into her side table for a condom, and hands it to him. “It’s only happened one time prior to you, and then it didn’t happen again until you. It’s sort of embarrassing…”
“Are you kidding?” He rips the foil packet open and slides the condom on his hard cock. “I’ve only ever seen that happen in porn. I have to say, the real thing is way hotter than watching it happen on a screen.” He pecks her lips as he lines himself up with her. “I like knowing that I’m making you feel that good.” He pushes inside of her, and they both groan. “Did…did Luke ever…was he the first person-“
“It happened while I was touching myself one night, okay? And that was like two years ago, and then it didn’t happen again until you fingered me from behind during the threesome. Can we move on?” She says, rolling her hips up to his to get him to start moving.
“That’s not a very nice way to talk to me.” Harry gives her a sharp thrust. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl.”
“I do, but you’re making it difficult.” She huffs. “Don’t bring up Luke, or anyone else.”
Harry nods, and starts giving her hard and fast strokes. He takes her wrists, and presses them down on either side of her head. She’s breathing heavily, desperately trying to stay as quiet as she can. She knows the walls of her apartment are thin, and knows how annoyed she’d be if the shoe were on the other foot. Harry releases one of her wrists so he can hook an arm under one of her knees so he can drive it in deeper.
“Oh, God.” Penelope throws her head back into her pillow.
“Like that?” He grunts into her ear. “So fucking deep.”
“Yes.” She gets a fist full of his hair, and presses him further into her neck. He sucks on the tender skin, causing her to let out an elongated moan. She bites down on his shoulder to try to keep herself quiet.
Harry moves to sit up on his knees, gripping her hips to raise them up a bit. He holds onto her tight as he grinds his cock in and out of her. She reaches to rub her clit, but looks him in the eyes first as if to ask if it was okay. He nods rapidly, grabbing her hand to place it where she needs it most, and she starts touching herself. Harry’s mouth falls open as he watches the scene before him. Penelope bites down on her other palm to muffle the sounds of her cries and screams as she comes around Harry’s cock. He spills into the condom shortly after, and comes down to her to kiss her over and over. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as they explore each other’s mouths. Once their breathing evens out a bit more, Harry pulls out of her.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks at her. “That was great.”
“Yeah.” She smiles at him. “I’ve got a small trash bin by my desk.” She points over to it.
“Right.” He nods, and gets off her bed. He disposes of the condom, then starts to put his clothes back on. Penelope throws on an extra-large bed shirt. “So…you good?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright before I left.”
“Harry, it’s not like you whipped me and called me a whore.” She laughs. “I’m all set, you can go.”
“Alright.” He laughs too. “I’m glad you came to the bar tonight. I was going to text you, but then I didn’t because I didn’t know if you had class tomorrow morning or not.”
“I don’t have classes on Fridays, actually.”
“Good to know.” He pecks her lips, and opens her bedroom door to leave.
Penelope goes down the hall to use the bathroom, and go through her nightly routine. She drinks a little bit of water, then goes back to her room. She yanks the comforter off her bed, and sighs with relief when she sees the wet spot didn’t seep through to her other blankets and sheets. She slips into bed and gets comfortable. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep.
//
During the day Friday, after sleeping in, Penelope goes to the library with Ryan to get a jump on some homework. There wasn’t a ton of stuff assigned since it was syllabus week, but Penelope had an easier time reading her academic texts at the library, and so did Ryan. Novels she could read just fine in her bedroom. The two dove into how their nights ended: Penelope took Harry home, and Alex took Ryan home. All in all, they both had a good night.
“So, when are you going to tell Jessa and Naomi about Harry?” Ryan asks her.
“Probably tonight when we have our movie night.”
“I can’t wait to watch Mystic Pizza.” Ryan sighs happily. “I love our little traditions.”
“Me too.” Penelope smiles.
//
That night, Penelope, Ryan, Jessa, and Naomi all get comfortable in their living room to watch their movie. They have drinks, pizza, and cookies - nothing could be better. Penelope tells the girls about Harry, not naming him, but that she has acquired a new fuck buddy.
“Ohh, so that’s who I saw sneaking out of here last night. I got up to grab a late night snack, and I heard the door open and close.” Jessa says.
“Sorry, we tried to be as quiet as we possibly could.” Penelope explains. “I didn’t want to wake either of you.”
“No worries.” Naomi smiles. “Glad you got yours. The party we ended up at was full of gross people, so we left.”
“Yeah, and then we were too exhausted to go anywhere else.” Jessa shrugs.
About halfway through the movie, Penelope feels her phone buzz next to her thigh. Normally, she wouldn’t look at her phone during a roomie night, but she was curious to see who was texting her at 10PM.
Harry: wyd
Penelope: watching a movie with my roomies, wbu
Harry: just got home from the bar…wanna come over?
Penelope: I can’t…it’s roomie night, we’re watching a movie
Harry: come over after the movie
Penelope: I’m not going to walk by myself to god knows where at night
Harry: can’t Ryan walk you?
Penelope: I’m sure he would if I asked, but I’m not going to because it’s not his job
Penelope: If you want me to come over then you can come and get me
Harry: jfc fine! What time???
Penelope: idk whenever the movie ends, I’ll text you
Harry: don’t make me wait too long
Penelope rolls her eyes, and puts her phone down. She really didn’t want to leave her friends, and she was hoping for just a chill night. They didn’t technically have other plans after the movie, but usually they would watch another, maybe do their nails, and drink a little more. She didn’t want to ditch them.
“Hey, uh…after the movie’s over, would you guys be mad if I went to go hook up?” Penelope asks the group.
“Why would we be mad?! Did fuck buddy text you?” Jessa asks.
“Yeah, but I won’t ditch if you all want me to stay afterwards.”
“I have to get up early for field hockey, so I was planning to crash after the movie.” Naomi says.
“And I have an early shift at the coffee shop.” Ryan says. “Do you need me to walk you there?”
“No, he said he’d come get me. Thanks, guys.”
“Oh, please.” Jessa scoffs. “As if we’d ever cock block. It was nice of you to consider all our feelings, though.”
“Always.” Penelope smiles. She really does have a great circle of people around her.
After the movie’s over, Penelope texts Harry that he can come get her. She puts a small tote bag of things together for herself in case she ends up spending the night. She sure as shit wasn’t going to walk back by herself. Harry texts her that he’s outside, and off she goes. She doesn’t see anyone out on the street, just a car, so she walks up to it. She sees Harry in the driver’s seat, and she opens the door to get in.
“Hi.” She smiles.
“Hey.” He smiles back. He’s dressed more casually tonight, donning a pair of grey joggers and a white tee shirt. He pulls onto the street, and makes his way to his building.
“Are you way off campus, or…?”
“Nah, I live in the grad student housing complex. It’s sort of like a townhouse, which is nice. I share it with three other people.”
“I never asked before, but how old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-four in February, why?”
“Just wondering.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Did you take a gap year between undergrad and grad?”
“Yeah, I wanted to work for a bit so I could have some time to figure out what I wanted to do next. I kind of just want to get paid to read, so when I was looking into different programs, the one at this school caught my eye. The grad program here has a smooth transition into the doctorate.”
“That’s so cool. I feel like once I graduate I’m never going back to school.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to be a writer. I…I like writing creatively, fiction mostly. Too bad you don’t want to get into publishing, you could read while I write.” She jokes, and it makes him chuckle.
“I actually thought about going into publishing, but then I realized I’d have to read books I don’t really give a fuck about, and then marketing comes into play, and I really don’t give a fuck about that.”
“So, basically doing more schoolwork allows you to just read whatever, whenever?”
“Pretty much.” Harry pulls into a parking space, and leads her to his building. “All of my roommates are out, by the way. They like to go to the bar on Fridays since they know all you undergrads tend to stay in on Friday nights.” He smirks, and keys into the house. “And for even more convenience, three of the bedrooms are upstairs, and mine is on the ground level. So, either way, we have a little more privacy, and I have my own bathroom.”
“Damn, how’d you get so lucky?”
“I moved in first over the summer, so I already established my room and all that. The others didn’t seem to mind.” Harry puts his hand on the small of Penelope’s back to lead her to his bedroom. He flips the light on and closes the door behind them. “Here we are.”
“Nice.” She says as she kicks her Crocs off. “Not a total pit.”
“I clean up after myself. I’m not a pig.”
“You just never know what you’re going to walk into at a guy’s place.” She sees a book case stacked with all different types of books.
“What are you looking for?” He stands behind her, leaning over her shoulder.
“Just wanted to make sure there isn’t a copy of Catcher in the Ryeanywhere.” She looks up over her shoulder at him. “I can’t have a Holden Caulfield apologist on my hands.”
Harry bursts out laughing at that, and gives her playful shove.
“Definitely won’t find a copy of that book on my shelves. I hated that they made us read that in high school.”
“What was one of your favorites that they made you read?” Penelope asks as she crawls onto Harry’s bed. He sits down next to her, throwing his arm around her so she can cuddle up next to him.
“Hmm…I enjoyed Lord of the Flies, I think. This may sound stupid, but I didn’t read much in high school. I fell in love with it in college because of some random gen ed I took freshman year. Changed my major from Business Administration to English after my first semester. What about you?”
“That’s not stupid at all. I’m actually not the biggest fan of reading myself. I much prefer to write. I like short stories, and stuff like that. I’m a slow reader, and I hate super descriptive books, I’d rather read dialogue, you know? Nothing like some good subtext.”
“So, what does it take for a story to really suck you in? What makes you sit down and read?”
“I love a good, like, enemies to lovers, or even friends to lovers. Basically, two idiots that if they just talked out their feelings so much shit could have been avoided.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of genre, not so much a trope.” Harry chuckles.
“The genre doesn’t matter to me as long as it has the tropes I like. I hate reading a book thinking something is going to happen, and then it doesn’t. It’s like eating something with a bad after taste. I wanna know straight up what I’m getting into, and then I’ll be more than happy to strap in for the ride.”
“Wouldn’t that ruin the ending if you know the couple will end up together?”
“Not at all! Just because I know what the destination is going to look like doesn’t mean I know the journey. I wanna know how they get to be lovers, and a little bit of what happens next.”
“I’m guessing you mostly stick to romance novels?”
“I guess you could call them that.” She looks up at him and smiles. “Sometimes I like reading a story that just has a good fuck scene in it.”
“Ah, so you prefer to read your porn, rather than watch it.”
“I like having context.” Penelope moves to straddle Harry. His hands rub up and down her thighs.
She cups his jaw and leans in to kiss him. She didn’t come over to talk, after all. Harry adjusts them so they can sit a little more comfortably. Penelope licks into his mouth, and molds her tongue to his. He tasted like mint, and it just made her kiss him harder. His arms wraps around her body, pulling her closer to him. She rolls her hips down onto his, and a slow grind forms between the two of them. She pulls back for a moment and smiles shyly.
“It’s, uh, it’s a little quiet in here. Could you maybe put some music on for some background noise?” She asks.
“Sure.” Harry grabs his phone and opens Spotify, putting on a random playlist before gripping her chin to kiss her again. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.”
They continue to kiss and grind, sinking further into the mattress until Harry’s laying down flat on his back with Penelope on top of him. Both of their lips are swollen at this point, and Harry’s cock is throbbing. He rolls them both onto their sides so they’re facing each other. He reaches for the waistband of her leggings, and looks up at her.
“Wanna touch me while I touch you?” He asks.
“Yeah.” She nods, and presses her lips back to his.
She blindly reaches inside his joggers, palming his erection over his boxer-briefs. She wriggles a little closer to him so there’s less of a strain on her arm. Harry’s hand slips inside her leggings, and her thong, cupping her pussy. He grunts when he feels how wet she is, and slides his middle finger up inside her.
“Already so wet for me.” He says against her lips.
She hums her response as she pulls Harry’s cock out of his underwear. She grips him, and slides her hand up over his tip. She rubs her thumb over his slit, and whimpers at the feeling of his precome.
“So are you.” She looks up at him through her lashes. She slings her leg up over his hip so he can have more access to her. He slides two more fingers inside her. “Holy fuck.” She moans.
“Like the way that feels?” He nuzzles his nose to hers.
“Mhm, feels so good. Stretching me out so much.”
“Opening up so nice for me. Gonna take my cock like a good girl?”
“Fuck, yes.” She scooches closer to him, getting her other hand inside his pants so she can cup his balls, massaging them gently.
“Oh my god.” Harry pulls his hand away from her, and pushes her on her back. He wriggles out of his bottoms, and yanks her leggings and thong off of her. “I’m gonna eat you out, is that alright?”
“Yeah, I don’t mind.” She bites her bottom lip as Harry spreads her legs apart. “You really like doing that, huh?” She says just as Harry was starting to suck on her pussy. He pops off of her and smirks.
“I’m really into oral pleasure. Anyone can stick their dick in you and fuck you, it actually takes some talent and effort to get someone off with their mouth and fingers.” His thumb rubs slow, hard circles into her clit. “Don’t you think?” He slides his three fingers back inside of her, and brings his lips down to her clit. He looks up at her as he sucks on it.
“Shit, Harry.” Her mouth falls open as she makes eye contact with him. She was so turned on by him. Her hips raise and lower with each pump of his fingers.
“Come on, Penelope, give it to me.” He says, pumping his fingers even faster. He uses his other hand to rub her clit rapidly. “Can feel you squeezing around me.”
“H-Harry, I…I can never tell when it’s gonna happen it just happens.” She squirms under him, trying to close her legs, but Harry keeps them open. “I don’t wanna make a mess of your bed.”
“I don’t care about that. I want you to feel so fucking good. Just let go, be a good girl, yeah?”
That’s what pushes Penelope over the edge, soaking Harry’s fingers in the process. He pulls them out of her and immediately attaches his mouth to her pussy. He rubs her clit more to get more from her. Penelope thrashes underneath him, unable to handle the intensity of her orgasm. Harry pops off of her, and sits back on his feet as he catches his breath. He takes his shirt off, and yanks Penelope up onto her bum so he can take hers off as well. He wraps his lips around one of her nipples while his hand kneads her unoccupied breast.
“Harry, can I suck on you for a bit?” She asks him, almost lightheaded.
“Course you can.” Harry switches positions with her so he’s laying on his back.
Penelope kisses her way down his long torso, admiring the ink on his skin. The head of his cock is red, almost angry. She grips him, and licks a stripe up his shaft. She flits her tongue over his leaky tip. It’s a heady taste, but she doesn’t mind too much. How could she? She essentially squirted into his mouth, and he licked up every last drop. The least she could do was give him some good head. She suckles on his tip, getting plenty of spit on it so she can pump his shaft more comfortably. She uses her other hand to cradle his balls. Harry throws his head back, making the prettiest sounds. He sounds desperate and needy, and it was making Penelope even stickier between her thighs.
“Pen, I don’t wanna come yet.” He gasps just as she was about to suck on one of his balls. He yanks her up by her bun. “Please, it felt so good, but I don’t wanna come yet.”
“Oh…can you not, uh, bounce back that fast?” She blinks at him. Her lips are so puffy and swollen, and she still has some spit on the corners of her mouth. Harry thinks she looks really cute.
“It’s not that.” He chuckles. “Delayed gratification is more satisfying.” He sits up and licks his lips. “What do you wanna do now?”
“I…what do you mean?”
“Do you wanna keep doing this? Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Oh! Yeah, I want you to fuck me now…please.”
“Alright, c’mere.”
Harry reaches for a condom out of his bedside table, and rolls it on. Penelope straddles him, and lines herself up to sink down onto him. She bites down on her bottom lip as she gets adjusted. Her nails dig crescents into Harry’s shoulders. Penelope rolls her hips forward to grind against Harry properly. His hips match hers, creating the perfect rhythm between them. He grabs her by the back of the neck, and pulls her forward to kiss him. She moans into his mouth when she feels his other hand on her clit, rubbing precise circles with his fingers. His lips move from her mouth to her collar bones, nipping and sucking at various spots. Penelope’s head falls back, and Harry takes the opportunity to suck on one of her breasts. Both of his hands move to grope and squeeze at her ass. She whimpers at him, missing the attention on her clit. She forgets all of her troubles when Harry thrusts up and hits a specific spot.
“Oh!” She gasps. “Oh, my god. Don’t stop, shit, don’t stop!”
“Yeah? Am I hitting it?” Harry smirks, helping her bounce on and off his cock harder.
“Yes, fuck.” Her nails scratch harshly at his shoulders and chest.
“Who fucks you better than I do, Baby?”
“No one.” She pants.
“Who’s the best you’ve ever had?”
“You are.” Her eyes are teary. “Please, can I come?”
Harry nods yes, and Penelope lets go. Her eyes roll into the back of her head. Harry sucks a bruise into her exposed neck. She tightens around him as she comes, pushing him over the edge, spilling into the condom. Penelope presses her lips to Harry’s, sharing a kiss that eases both of their heartbeats. Harry lifts Penelope off of him gently, and sets her down.
“You, um, you said you have your own bathroom?” She asks shyly.
“Yeah, it’s through that door.” He says as he throws the condom away.
“Awesome, um, I’ll just need a few minutes to clean up, and then you can drive me back if you want.”
Harry turns to look at her, now in a pair of boxer-briefs. He looks at the time on his digital clock and he sighs heavily.
“You can spend the night if you want.”
“No, it’s okay. I know…I know you don’t really want me to.” She grabs her clothes and quickly makes her way into his bathroom. She comes out a few minutes later, and Harry’s thrown on a sweatshirt and his grey joggers from before.
“You brought a bag with you, I figured you wanted to stay.” He shrugs, grabbing his keys.
“I didn’t realize you’d be driving. I wasn’t going to walk back by myself.”
“I wouldn’t have made you do that.” They both make their way out to his car, and he drives her back to her apartment. “Thanks for coming by tonight, it was fun.”
“Yeah, it was.” Penelope smiles. “Thanks for the ride.” She leans in, and they both smile into the kiss.
“Well, goodnight.”
“Night.” She gets out of his car, and notices that he doesn’t pull away until she’s inside.
//
Saturday night, Ryan gets invited to an ABC party at one of the fraternity houses. He used to fuck one of the guys when he was only a pledge. An ABC party means “Anything But Clothes”, so you have to be a little creative with what you put on. Ryan put some fun duct tape over a pair of boxers for himself, and helped Penelope with a towel dress.
“Are you sure this will stay up? I wanna be comfortable.” Penelope says to him.
“If you want, I could tape up a pair of spandex shorts for you.”
“I’m already wearing a pair under the towel. I’m just afraid it’ll unravel.”
“Oh! What if instead of a towel, you put on an apron? That could be sexy. I can help you tape up your boobs for support.”
“But the shorts wouldn’t be hidden.”
“No one’s going to police you for wearing a pair of spandex shorts.” Ryan rolls his eyes.
“Fine, I’ll wear an apron.”
Once they both feel comfortable in their outfits, they make their way to the frat house. Did they look a little silly? Sure, but they didn’t care. It was plenty dark out, and there were people wearing all sorts of things. They go up the steps of the house, and are let in. They say hello to a few people, then make their way to the kitchen for drinks. Penelope just sticks with hard cider since she knew they weren’t open prior. This frat wasn’t known for doing stupid shit, but Penelope wasn’t the type to let her guard down either.
The music is good, Ryan and Penelope dance where everyone else is. It’s a fun party, and they’re both glad they came. They both try not to drink too much too quickly because the bathrooms at any frat house are usually disgusting.
“Penelope, is that you?” A guy’s deep voice fills her ears. She turns to see an old friend, Kyle, standing behind her in a pair of shorts made out of a few different Bud Lite boxes.
“Hey!” She throws her arms around his neck, and hugs him loosely. “How was your summer?”
“Good, worked a lot. How about you?”
“Same here, worked a lot.” She shrugs a shoulder. “Nice shorts.” She smirks.
“Nice apron.” He smirks back, then squints at her neck. “You alright?” He brings his hand up to her throat and gently presses on the hickey she tried to cover up with his thumb.
“Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Um, just got myself good with my flat iron.” She takes his hand away.
“That doesn’t look like a burn…damn, are you seeing someone?”
“No…well, I’m not, notseeing someone. Why?”
“I was just hoping you’d be single.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I mean, I am, but-“
“Hey, Pen.” Harry comes over to them. Her eyes widen in shock. He’s wearing a pair of swim trunks, and that’s it, besides shoes.
“Hi! What are you doing here?”
“I was a member of this fraternity at my other school. I’m the graduate chapter member on the exec board.”
“That’s so cool!” She smiles. “So, you know Kyle?”
“Yeah, a little.” He throws his arm around Penelope’s shoulders and looks at Kyle. “Having fun?”
“Uh, yeah, how do you two know each other?”
“I’m the TA for one of her classes. We actually met over the summer by chance, so we’re friends too.” He gives her shoulder a squeeze.
“That’s great, uh, we were sort of talking before you came over.”
“Oh? ‘Bout what?”
“Harry, would you mind getting me another hard cider out of the fridge? I’m finished with this one.” She says to him.
“Sure.” He smiles, and leaves them.
“Sorry, what were we talking about?” Penelope says to Kyle. She remembered perfectly fine, but she wanted him to drop the topic. She didn’t want to fuck him. Why would she when Harry had the cock of her dreams?
“You know, I can’t remember either.” He chuckles nervously. “We should catch up soon, maybe grab a coffee?”
“I’d like that.”
Penelope makes her way to the kitchen where Harry is just getting her drink. She walks over to him, and takes the can out of his hand.
“Didn’t think I’d run into you at a frat party.” He says to her.
“Could say the same to you.” Penelope cracks open her cider, and takes a sip. She looks him up and down. “Cute bathing suit, but this is an ABC party.”
“A bathing suit isn’t clothing. It’s a whole other category. Your apron is cute, sexy even.” He loops an arm arm around her waist, and hoists her up to sit on the kitchen counter. “What do you have on underneath?”
“Not much, just my shorts.”
“You look really sexy.”
“So I’ve been told.” She smirks.
“By who, Kyle?” Harry rolls his eyes. “Was he trying to hit on you? I saw him touch your neck. That’s why I came over, normally I wouldn’t just interrupt someone while they’re talking to someone else.”
“He was.” She nods. “He’s been trying to get with me since sophomore year. We hooked up once, but I didn’t let him hit it again.”
“Why not?”
“He just didn’t do it for me.” She shrugs. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you mentioned something about if I didn’t want you to sleep with anyone else you wouldn’t, so I’m sure that same rule applies to me.”
“I did mention that, but we never finalized things. I’m happy to only sleep with each other, but I’m a needy guy. I might text you a lot.” He leans in, and starts kissing on her neck. She bites down on her bottom lip. “Might have to fuck you after class sometimes.” He licks over a spot before sucking on it. “Does that work for you.” He ghosts his lips over hers.
“Yes.” She swallows.
“Had you the last two nights, and it’s still not enough.” He presses his lips to hers, and she throws her arms around his neck. She opens her legs for him, and wraps them around his waist.
They aren’t the only people in the kitchen. There’s plenty going on around them, so it’s not like anyone is sparing them a second glance as they devour one another. He sucks on her bottom lip, then lets it go.
“We can’t do this here.” He says to her.
“Is there somewhere more private we can go?”
“I’m parked out back.”
“You drove here? What were you going to do later?”
“Drive? I wasn’t planning on getting belligerent.” He laughs. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were.” She mutters. “I’m not ready to leave the party yet. Can’t we stay a little longer and dance? Then we could-“
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s one thing down at the bar, but someone else from class could be out there, you know?” He grabs her hips and helps her off the counter. “Grab me when you’re done, then I’ll take you home.”
“Are you sure? We could still go out to your car for a little fun.”
“Yeah?” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear.
“Yeah.”
Harry nods, and takes her hand to lead her through the house, and out the back door. There’s a number of cars parked on the grass in the backyard. Harry pulls his key out from one of the inside pockets of his swimsuit, and unlocks his car. They both climb into the backseat, and Penelope kisses down his chest. She gets him out of his swim trunks and immediately puts her mouth on him.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” Harry groans, and pushes some hair out of Penelope’s face. “Wanted my cock in your mouth, huh?”
Penelope pops off him for a moment, spits onto his tip, then gets her mouth back onto him. She takes him down her throat as far as she can, and just holds him there. Her nose presses against his pelvis, and she moans around him. She pulls back and gets his head in the back of her cheek, and she starts to pump the rest of him.
“Feels so fucking good when you do that.” He throws his head back. “You’re gonna make me come.” Penelope pumps him faster while sucking on him harder. “Fuck, fuck!” He comes into her mouth, and she swallows every last drop. She sits back and watches his chest rise and fall. “God, you give good head.” He breathes and tucks himself back into his swimsuit. He sits up as well, and looks at her with hooded eyes. “So…you wanna go back inside?”
“No, I want you to take me home so you can fuck me.”
Harry grins, and they both make their way to front seats of his car. He keeps his hand on her thigh as he drives away. Penelope texts Ryan to let him know she’s safe, and that Harry is taking her home. When they get to her apartment, she has Harry wait in her room so she can un tape her boobs in privacy. She comes back into her room only wearing her apron. She comes over to the bed and situations herself onto his lap.
“Not to feed into a stereotype, but you look like a sexy housewife with this thing on.” Harry smirks.
“I do, don’t I?” She smirks back. “We could role-play if that’s something you’re into.”
“You get better by the second.” He pecks her lips, and slips a hand under the front of her apron to feel her cunt. “Aw, did I make you wet, Baby?”
“You make such pretty sounds when you come, I couldn’t help it.” She nips at his bottom lip. She gasps when she feels two of his fingers slide up inside her.
“Ride my fingers.” His thumb presses down on her clit. “Show me how bad you want it.”
Penelope whimpers, and does as Harry says. She rocks back and forth on his fingers. Harry’s thumb rubs circles into her clit. He wants to make her use him, but he can’t help himself.
“I wanna finger you from behind.” He tells her.
“Please.” Penelope gets off of him, and gets on all fours, still wearing the apron which is doing things to Harry that he can’t fully comprehend. “Would you…do you remember when we…um…”
“You want me to your ass out?” Harry says as he slips his fingers back inside her from behind.
“Yes.” She groans, arching her back more for him. “It felt really good that first time.”
“I know, you gushed all over my chest.” He bites into her ass cheek.
“Don’t make fun of me, I’m self-conscious about it.”
“Please, don’t be. It’s so fucking hot.” He licks over her hole. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, remember?”
Harry licks and sucks over her other hole while continuing to fuck her with his fingers from behind. Penelope clutches at her pillow, her knuckles turning white. She tightens around his fingers, and Harry groans into her. He pumps his fingers in and out, faster and harder, making Penelope gasp for air.
“Oh my god!” She pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re hitting it.” She grits her teeth and tries her best to stay quiet. She had no idea if Jessa and Naomi were home or not, and she also had neighbors to consider. She smooshes her face into her pillow, and cries out as she comes around his fingers. “Fuck.” She breathes as Harry pulls his fingers out of her. She turns onto her back and watches as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. Penelope works to take her apron off, leaving her fully exposed to him. “Please, do whatever you want to me.”
Harry chuckles as he moves to hover over her, smearing his lips onto hers. She wraps her limbs around him, needing him to be especially close to her right now. He nips and sucks at her bottom lip before letting it go.
“I’m afraid that’s all I’m good for tonight.” He sighs, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. I’m meeting with my group for this stupid project for one of my grad classes, and then I have a fuck ton of homework to do.” He stands up from her bed and looks at her. Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are wide, but her brows are furrowed. “What?”
“You…you can’t just leave me like this, Harry.”
“Why not? I got off, and then so did you. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is…that wasn’t…” She grabs a blanket to cover herself as she collects her thoughts. “That was like a baby orgasm. I’m all revved up now, you can’t just leave.”
“Pen, I’m sorry, I wish I could stay longer, but I really can’t. I wasn’t even going to stay at that party long, it’s why I drove.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be in one of these situations again real soon.” He winks, and leaves her sitting there, alone.
Penelope blinks a few times, in shock from what just happened. Was this part of his master plan? To leave her wanting more? She gets up, and goes down the hall to take a shower, she suddenly felt dirty, and not in a good way. Yes, she got hers, but she was expecting more. Had he just spoiled her the two nights prior? She scrubs her body angrily, and grumbles to herself as she gets back into bed. She left a perfectly fun party for a boy…a boy. Never had she ever done something like that just because of a boy. Who even was Harry if not just some guy? She could have stayed at the party, and told him he could have her another time. She won’t be making this mistake again.
//
Filled with utter embarrassment, Penelope uses Sunday as a recovery day, making sure to drink plenty of water. She decides to just get some homework done in the living room of her apartment. She doesn’t want to risk running into Harry at the library. Ryan brings her a wrap for lunch, and they both eat together. She tells him about the night prior, and asks for his opinion.
“Like, am I just being overly sensitive? One second he’s telling me that he can’t get enough of me, and the next he’s saying he’s had his fill and leaves. I felt…rejected.”
“I get where you’re coming from.” Ryan mulls over Penelope’s story. “It was nice of him to drive you back and do what he did.”
“Yeah, it was, but I feel like he only wanted to take me home so he could make sure no one else tried to fuck me. From the beginning, he mentioned he wouldn’t fuck anyone else, and we sort of agreed on that. Am I not trustworthy, or something?” She scoffs. “Maybe I should just end it with him before more red flags pop up. I’m not going to keep my vagina held hostage just because some guy wants to be possessive.”
“You’re, like, super worked up about this, huh?” Ryan frowns.
“I don’t know why. I feel like he made me come, and then he just split. Like…he didn’t wait to make sure I was alright.”
“Had he done that previously?” Penelope nods yes, and Ryan leans in to whisper. “Do you think you’re in a subspace?”
“No way.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t like he…we didn’t…there was nothing done between us last night that would warrant that type of reaction from me. I’m never like this over a guy, I feel so stupid.”
“I think you should give him a piece of your mind, then. Go roll up on him.”
“I can’t, he said he was really busy today…I don’t want to show up and look insane. I’ll just ignore him in class tomorrow.”
“Ah, the passive approach. That never backfires.” Ryan says sarcastically, and Penelope shoots daggers at him. “All I know is that if he makes you this upset again, I’m kicking his ass.”
“I’d buy front row seats to that.” Penelope smiles. Ryan always had a way of making her feel better.
//
On Monday morning, Ryan and Penelope make their way to class. They stop for coffee first, of course, then go into the building where their course is being held. They take their seats, as well as the others that are filing in, and get settled. Penelope decided wear a V-neck crop top with a pair of compression cropped leggings. She plans to go for a long walk after class to get some steps in, but she also knows how good she looks in her athletic wear, and is using that to her advantage. She’s going to make Harry suffer today.
Professor Allen walks in with Harry, deep in a lively conversation. This is Professor Allen’s last week before going on her medical leave. A few stragglers come in and take their seats, then class gets started.
“Good morning! I hope you all had a nice weekend, and didn’t get into too much mischief.” Professor Allen greets the class, and gets the projector turned on. “We’re going to start discussing the various theorists we’ll be discussing, and the approaches we’ll be taking to analyze their work.”
“Oh, did you plan on participating from your hospital bed, Professor Allen? That’s so noble of you.” Harry jokes, and it makes everyone laugh, except for Penelope.
“I suppose I shouldn’t say we.” Professor Allen smiles. “Go on, Harry, take it away.”
Harry smiles, and takes roll for class, saying each name, and checks them off. He gets to Penelope, and looks up as she says, “Here.” He furrows his brows when he sees her looking off towards the window, then continues taking roll.
“Okay, today we’re going to dive into feminism theory, this is personally one of my favorites to discuss.” Harry clicks on the slide switcher, and starts the presentation. Penelope can’t help but scoff under her breath, which makes Ryan chuckle to himself. “As a refresher, feminist theory combines elements of other theoretical models such as psychoanalysis, Marxism, poststructuralism, and deconstruction to interrogate the role of gender in the writing, interpretation, and dissemination of literary texts.” He clicks the button for the next slide. “Can anyone name off a few theorists in this subject?”
A few people spout off names, such as: Betty Friedan, Julia Kristeva, Judith Butler, Elaine Showalter, Carol Gilligan, and Adrienne Rich. Harry smiles and nods, clicking the button for the next slide. He starts by talking about Betty Friedan, and what her theories were. A lot of this was refresher information for the group, but everyone was secretly happy for it because it had been a while since all of them dove deep into theory like this. Harry continues to go over some of the major theorists’ theories on feminism in literature. Before long, it’s 10:15, which means class is over, and Harry dismisses everyone. He smiles and says goodbye to many of the students, waiting for Penelope to come up to him. Or at least he was hoping she would, but she doesn’t even spare him a glance. She simply walks out with Ryan in her cute little outfit. Harry gathers his things, says goodbye to Professor Allen, then rushes out to catch up with her.
“Penelope!” He raises his voice slightly to get her attention. Both her and Ryan look back at Harry, roll their eyes, then keep walking. Harry’s mouth falls open, and he stands there, stunned.
Was it a little immature? Maybe, but Penelope felt casted aside like an object, and she didn’t like feeling that way at all.
//
Harry tries to get some work done once he’s through with his own classes, but he’s too distracted. Penelope hadn’t answered the two texts he had sent, and what’s worse is that she left him on read. Her read receipts hadn’t been on for him before, but now they are. She wanted him to know she was ignoring him. He couldn’t figure out why exactly. He didn’t think he did anything wrong. He made sure to make her feel good on Saturday night. And he told her upfront that he’s not the type to call the next day. So what the fuck was her problem?
He wanted to just go over to her place, and bang on her door until she answered, but that’s probably what she wanted, and he wasn’t going to feed into whatever game this is. If something is bothering her, then she should just tell him. For the life of him, he can’t figure out what he did that pissed her off enough to ignore him. He texts her again.
Harry: hey, can you just tell me what I did? I don’t wanna play games with you
He thinks he’s worn her down when he sees the three little dots come up to signal that she’s typing. They leave and come back several times until all he’s left with from her is the read receipt. He sighs heavily, and tosses his phone elsewhere. Maybe it was too soon to start up a regular thing like this with someone. What could he have done to hurt her so badly? They don’t know each other that well, there’s no way she could have caught feelings just after a few nights of fucking…could she?
//
Wednesday morning was no different. Penelope was dressed a little less casually, but she still made sure to look extra cute. Harry’s lecture was about another literary theory, and the major theorists within it. Penelope takes her notes, genuinely interested in the content. It annoys her that Harry is just a naturally good lecturer. She could never teach, she’s just not charismatic enough, and she knows that about herself. If Professor Allen had been lecturing, the whole class would have been asleep, but Harry just has a way about him. The content excites him, and he’s able to crack jokes. Penelope didn’t laugh at a single thing he said, though. Every time he said something remotely funny, he looked at her and saw her mouth stay in a straight line. At the end of class, Harry announces he has cupcakes as a surprise for Professor Allen’s last class before her leave.
The class comes up to grab a cupcake. Some mingle with Professor Allen, and some leave after grabbing their treat. This is Harry’s chance. He watches as Penelope picks out her cupcake, and speaks up.
“Penelope, could you come to my office, please?” He asks her as professionally as he can.
“For what purpose?” She asks innocently, licking some of the frosting off of her cupcake. “It’s not like we’ve had anything due. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable meeting with you alone without a valid reason.”
“We need to talk.”
“I don’t think so.” She smirks, and licks some more frosting off. “These are good, where’d you get them?”
“Market Basket.” He mutters.
“Hm, good to know their bakery isn’t shit.” She pops the cake portion into her mouth, and chews thoughtfully before swallowing. “Have a good weekend.”
Harry grabs his things, and follows her out of the classroom. Ryan had already left, so Penelope didn’t have him for backup. She knows he’s following her, so she walks a little faster out of the building. He ends up catching up with her, and pulls her aside to speak under one of the trees outside of the academic building.
“What?!” She shouts. “What do you want from me?”
“I wanna know what I did to piss you off. Purposefully leaving me on read? Being dismissive in class? You’re being awfully immature.”
“If I’m so immature then why bother with me?” She crosses her arms over her chest.
“Look, I obviously don’t know what I did, so can you just explain it to me so I don’t do it again?”
“You act like I’m going to fuck you again.” She laughs.
“Are you not going to?” He steps a little closer to her, hushing his tone. His features are softer now, and Penelope can see that he really doesn’t get it. She sighs, and closes her eyes for a moment before looking back up at him.
“You…you made me feel like an object on Saturday night.”
“What do you mean?” His eyebrows raise. “How…how did I do that?”
“You find me at a party that I was having a perfectly good time at, basically tell another guy to stop talking to me, make out with me in the kitchen, take me to your car so I can blow you, which I was more than happy to do, and then you take me home. I’m sitting there thinking we’re really going to get it on, and all you do is finger me, and then tell me you can’t stay a little longer? I was obviously in a needy state, and you just…you just left, Harry.” Her eyes start to water a bit. “I don’t know why I got so worked up over it, but I did, and I just felt like I was this thing you could use whenever you wanted, like you own me. And I…I needed you to stay longer.” Her bottom lip trembles into a pout.
“I…Jesus, Penelope, I’m so sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I thought since I made you feel good you’d be fine with not…doing more that night. I never meant to make you feel like an object of mine.”
“I know it wasn’t intentional, but it still hurt my feelings. I could have stayed at the party and had a good time with my friends, but I chose to leave with you, and for what? So you could finger me and eat out my ass? And you didn’t even seem grateful for it. You were going to town on me, and didn’t even…I just felt really used.” She looks down at her sandals, her cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. “I’m okay not doing sleepovers, I don’t need that from you, but if we do some less than conventional acts…I need you to stay a little longer.”
“Look at me.” He gently grips her chin, and tilts her face up. His hand moves to cradle her cheek. “Before me…had no one ever…like, eaten you out like that?” She shakes her head no. “Had you done any sort of bum stuff?” She shakes her head no again, and he sighs. “I’m sorry…I didn’t think you’d need extra comfort because you didn’t after you squir-“
“Shh!” She puts her hand over his mouth. “Not an outdoor word, you got it?” Harry nods yes and she lets him go. “I know you’re not a mind reader, but I thought it was clear that I was upset when you said you were leaving so soon.”
“I guess I just didn’t pick up on it.” He frowns. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn’t want to come off as needy, or make you think I wanted you to stay for a different reason.”
“I think…I think you and I need to have a conversation about aftercare.” He says quietly. “I would never intentionally send you into a space and leave you there if I knew…if I knew it would put you there, and then just leave.”
“I don’t think I knew it was going to send me into that space, and I guess I didn’t know how to handle it.”
“Do you still feel like you’re there?” He caresses her cheek again, and she leans into it.
“Not anymore, no. I…I’m sorry for how I handled this.”
“Don’t apologize, I was the asshole. Just…next time if I do something that pisses you off, can you just tell me? I don’t want to play guessing games.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” She swallows. “Um, I need to get going to my next class.”
“Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Can I see you tonight?”
“I’m busy tonight, and I have an early class tomorrow. Are you working at the bar tomorrow night?”
“Yeah, I’m doing the early shift though, so I can come meet up with you after if you want.”
“I’ll let you know where I’m at. I’m not sure what the plan for the weekend is just yet.”
“Sounds good.” He smiles softly. “Well, have a good class.”
“Thanks.” She returns his smile, and walks away. Harry sighs with relief.
He realizes now he needs to go do some personal research on how to take care of someone after having different types of sex. Well, he has to go to one of his grad classes first, and then he’ll go do some research.
//
“Three, two, one – shots!”
Jessa, Naomi, Ryan, and Penelope pregame together by doing tequila shooters. The four end up taking an Uber to a club about twenty minutes away for ladies night. A lot of the college kids come to this place, it’s a pretty popular spot. There’s drinking, dancing, and even a smoking area. Ladies drink for free on ladies night, so since Ryan shows up with three women, they get in easily.
The four dance and drink for a while, having a fun time just letting loose. The second week of classes brought a reality check for many students. Many professors didn’t hold back with their lectures and assignments once the semester really got rolling. This is why the students found different ways to let off steam once their weekends started. Some had kickbacks and played video games, some went bowling, some stayed in and FaceTimed their long distance besties, and others partied.
Penelope enjoyed letting loose by dancing every once in a while, and doing it for free on a Thursday didn’t sound bad at all. Something about getting dressed up and drunk was very appealing. The club was also off campus enough that if Harry were to meet up with Penelope, no one would be suspicious or care. So, about two hours into being there, she texted Harry to come join the fun, and he agreed.
“Hey!” He smiles when he locks eyes with her.
“Hi! Let me get you a drink! Mine are free.” Penelope smiles, and goes up to the bar to get Harry a drink. She returns and hands it to him.
“Thanks.” He smiles and takes a sip. She grabs one of his hands, twirls around, and presses her bum to his pelvis. “Eager.” He smirks, and kisses her cheek. “You look so fucking sexy tonight.” He moves along with her to the beat of the music.
“I know.” She looks up at him with a coy look on her face. “I always do.”
“Especially in class. You don’t make it easy for me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
After a few songs, the two find a booth to sit in, and drink some water. Penelope giggles at Harry’s stories from the bar. Eventually, she tugs on his shirt to have him kiss her. Their mouths were starved for one another.
There they were, having a sloppy make out session in a booth of a popular club. Harry kisses on Penelope’s neck, sucking a bruise into it. She clings to him, biting down on her bottom lip to help suppress any noise. She didn’t want to be too obvious. He pops off her, and slots his mouth back onto hers. Their tongues meet, and things get a little sloppier. Their chins get wet with spit, but neither of them care.
“Fuck, I’m so hard.” He presses his forehead to hers. She takes one of her hands and feels up his crotch.
“Yeah, you are.” She palms him a bit, and he whimpers.
“Don’t tease.”
“I’m not trying to.��� She bites her bottom lip. “Do you “Order us an Uber, I’m ready to go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, my feet hurt anyways. Can we go to mine?”
“Sure.” He smiles, and opens his phone to the app.
Penelope lets her friends know she’s leaving with Harry before going outside with him to go wait for the car. It pulls up, and they get into the backseat. Penelope cups his jaw and kisses him. Harry wasn’t usually one to make out in the backseat of a car like this, but he admittedly missed Penelope. He didn’t like knowing what it felt like to be iced out by her. So, he kisses her back, not giving a fuck about the driver. They weren’t being vulgar, or anything, which was nice of them. The twenty minutes in the car flew by, and then they were off to Penelope’s bedroom. She sends her friends a quick text that she was home safe with Harry before pulling him back in for another kiss. Harry kicks her door closed, and guides her over to the bed. They fall on top of it and giggle.
“Tell me how you want it, Penelope.” He says into her ear, causing goosebumps to pimple on her skin. One of his hands starts to knead her breast over the top of her dress.
“I…I…don’t want to make any decisions.” Harry moves to look at her. “I want you to just…I want you to decide everything, and I’ll tell you if I like it or not. It was such a long week, I just want to clear my head.”
“I think I can help with that.” Harry grins, and pecks her lips.
He hikes the skirt of her dress up, and grips her thong to pulls down her legs. They both work to get themselves naked before coming back to one another. Harry buries his head between Penelope’s breasts, kissing on both of them and tweaking her nipples. Soft gasps escape her lips as her nails scratch down his back. Harry kisses his way down her torso, nips at the plushier parts of her belly, then gets his head between her legs.
“Wait! Uh, you don’t have to do that. I was dancing for a while…”
“Oh, Baby, relax.” Harry says, furrowing his eyebrows. “Do you not want me to?”
“No, I do…I just didn’t want you to think you had to.”
Harry looks at her as he licks up over her slit. He continues his eye contact with each long stroke of his tongue over her. He suckles on her clit, letting spit dribble down to her cunt. His middle finger slowly slides inside of her, and Penelope groans. His tongue and mouth stay on her clit while his finger pets against her front wall, continuing to look at her. Penelope’s back arches off the bed as she comes undone. Harry sucks his finger into his mouth, and moves to hover over her.
“Condom?” He asks her, and she blindly reaches into her bedside table for one, handing it to him. Harry rolls it on, and lines himself up. “You sure?”
“Mhm, yeah, please put it in.” She nearly begs him.
Harry pushes inside of her, and buries his face into her neck. She’s just as tight and warm as ever. He rocks in and out of her slowly, getting a rhythm going without getting too excited. She deserves a long session tonight. Her nails dig into the meat of his ass to pull him closer to her. She rolls her hips upwards to meet his thrusts, giving her clit the attention it desperately needs.
“Well, aren’t you greedy?” He smirks.
“Shut up.” She grits her teeth. “Just don’t stop doing what you’re doing.”
“Thought I was in charge?” He pouts, mocking her.
“You…you are.”
“Then shouldn’t you ask if you can do something before you do it?”
“No, you should just let me do what I wanna do, and let me use your cock as my own personal plaything!” She shouts, feeling her orgasm start to build up. Harry’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. In fact, he bears down harder, and gives her what she needs. “Oh, fuck, just like that!” She grinds herself up against him and gasps as she comes around his cock. Harry rolls them both over quickly so she can be on top. He crosses his arms beneath his head and lays there under her. “What are you doing?”
“You said you wanted to use me, so use me.” He smirks. “I’ll just be right here enjoying the show.”
“You’re not going to move?”
“Nope, don’t see why I should when it’s you who knows best. Get off as many times as you want, Baby.”
“You’re punishing me.” She frowns, but starts rocking back and forth on him.
“Actually, I’m giving you exactly what you said you wanted, so be grateful.” Penelope rolls her eyes, but before she can do anything else, Harry reaches for her and squeezes her cheeks with his thumb and fingers. “Do that again, and then I’ll have to really punish you.”
“You don’t have the guts to punish me.” She laughs. Harry goes to make a smart remark but he stops himself, and instead sits up. He’s still inside of Penelope, but she stops her movements. “What is it?”
“We need to pause for a second, this is getting…we need to talk about all of this. Like, if we get into more of this explicit shit then we need a safe word, and I need to know what your limits are.” He tucks some loos strands of hair behind her ear. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I’ve never really been like this with someone before. I never let Luke…I’ve never let anyone touch or talk to me the way you do.”
“That makes me feel really good.” Harry smiles fondly, and gives her hips a squeeze. “You can pick the safe word if you want. What’s something easy that you’ll be able to remember?”
“Um…I don’t know.” She squeezes around him. “Can we finish first, and then talk about all of this? We can keep it tame for now, I promise.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me.”
He kisses her, and thrusts up inside her. Penelope moans into Harry’s mouth, and starts getting a rhythm going that allows her to bounce on and off his cock. He snakes a hand in between them so he can rub at her clit. She kisses on his neck, biting and sucking where she pleases, until they’re both coming and gasping for air. The two get cleaned up, and lounge on Penelope’s bed. Harry’s in his boxers, and Penelope is wearing an oversized tee shirt, her favorite thing to sleep in.
“So…you’d be into doing things to me?” She looks up at him, biting her bottom lip.
“Sure, I think it’s been clear from the beginning that I’m down for almost anything. What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “This is so new to me, I’m used to just kind of…going with the flow. You’ve turned me into this whiny brat, I’m never like that in bed.”
“And you’re too cute for your own good.” He pinches at her side and she giggles. “Do you want to be spanked?”
“Maybe? But not in a…like, if you’re doing me from behind, spank me until my ass is red, but I don’t want to be bent over your knee, you know?”
“So…you calling me daddy…?”
“Harry, you’re like two years older than me, you are so not daddy.” Penelope laughs.
“A man can dream.” He sighs, pulling her closer into his side. “If we’re going to get into some of the heavier things, then I think we should spend the night once in a while. I can’t leave you if you haven’t fully come back, you know?”
“I’d be okay with that. Just…every once in a while, though, not all the time.”
“What else do you wanna try?”
“Um, I might be open to more butt stuff. What you’ve done so far has felt good.”
“Are you serious? Because I know a great sex shop that sells all different types of butt plugs, and they’re great.”
“Oh?” She laughs from excitement. “Have you used any on yourself before?”
“Well…yeah.” He blushes slightly. “Luke wasn’t the first guy I’ve fooled around with. We could each wear a plug, it’d be so sexy if you fucked me with a strap-on some time.”
“You’d…you’d be into me doing that?”
“I’ve done it before, it feels insanely good when it’s done right.”
“Harry…do you think this is too much for two people who are just fucking?”
“Are you saying you want more from me? Because I really don’t have time to be anyone’s boyfriend right now. I’m sure you’d be a great girlfriend-“
“No, shut up, that’s not what I was getting at.” She shakes her head. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about what this is.”
“We’re friends with benefits.”
“Yes, exactly.” She sighs, and nestles in closer to him. “Would you…could this be one of the nights you sleep over? I…I think I need to cuddle with you for a bit.”
“I’d be happy to.”
#magnet and steel#magnet & steel#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x oc#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles series#harry styles fanfic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff
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Hi can you do a lockwood fic where you’re in the library late at night and you decide to play classical music and he asks you to dance (kiss on hand as a greeting, lucy recording and having a bet with george, etc) thanks!
Hear the Crackle of the Radio, I Know I’m Home
Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, sleepy Lockwood, dancing but it’s more like just staying in each other’s arms for the sake of it, repetition, I’m a SUCKER for fluff
Notes: Thank you anon for this sweet little request, I absolutely adored writing it!! I didn’t know how to incorporate a classic piece at first (considering their technology would be quite behind and they don’t have access to boomboxes or speakers) but then I remembered the old radio my family used to have. Lovely thing it was, I miss the crackle of it dearly!
ALSO, I MISREAD YOUR REQUEST SO BAD ANON. IM SO SORRY 😭 -added after posting LMAO,,,,
Summary: It’s a quiet day in the library— until Lockwood comes and forces you up from your seat to dance with him.
The static of the radio fades away into the crunch of violin and piano compositions, coming through gently and filling the room. There’s an air of old books and frail paper about you as you handle the fragile pages. The paper is old under your fingers, the texture familiar in your hands; the library smells of the past and sounds of it too.
You didn’t expect anyone else to be awake considering they all just got back home after a long and tedious case, but Lockwood comes into the library with a sleepy smile and you find yourself pleasantly surprised. He’s in a loose white T-shirt and the pyjama pants you bought him not too long ago, looking just about ready to pass out as he makes his way over to you. Much like a cat, he smiles patiently as you put away your book before unceremoniously dropping himself into your lap.
“Anthony,” You laugh, moving him around into a more comfortable position. He’s like putty in your hands, he is; sleepy and warm and all too happy.
“I checked, and you weren’t in bed,” He mumbles, his face resting in the space between your head and collar. His eyes peer at you from behind his lashes, hooded with exhaustion that has him blinking slowly. “ ‘Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I am very alright, now that you lot are all home.” You press a kiss onto his head, a hand combing through his hair. “I was about to head to bed, actually. Have you checked on Lucy and George?”
“Already—“ he yawns here, stretching out all his lanky limbs “—did. They’ve both headed into their rooms already.”
He leans into your touch and into you, relaxing in your arms. He snakes his arms your waist and his lips end up on your jaw. If Lucy or George were here, they might have had half the mind to call you both out on your lovesick behaviour. Since it was just you two, though, that goes unspoken. You hope Lockwood ignores the quick beating of your heart just as Lockwood hopes you can’t feel his smile on your skin growing coy. The world filters back in around you with every breath; library pages and the sound of something slow and relaxing.
“Let’s dance,” Lockwood mumbles, not pulling himself up. “This is our song.”
It is not your song; you don’t have one, (yet, you secretly hope) but you indulge him with a laugh. “Get up then. I can’t dance if you’re on me now, can I?”
It takes a solid minute for him to make good on that, at which point you think he’s fallen asleep before he blows into the skin of your neck and you swat him. It’s a giggly affair getting up, books left forgotten on the table and the radio drowned out by your joy. You take your places in the center of the room, Lockwood more awake as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. The piece rises to new heights as you both begin dancing slowly, a bit off beat with the music, but in tune with the rhythm of your hearts.
With one arm wrapped around your lower back, and the other in yours, it’s more of a sway than a dance. And yet you sway, to and fro, to and fro, as the music swells and softens through the radio crackle. His eyes trace your face with such tenderness and care; smiling subconsciously as he sways with you.
When you’re on the job, Lockwood is doing little more than burning himself into ash and soot to protect you all; ghoulishly hollow in all the ways he has already given himself up for you, George, and Lucy. You scold him for it, all of you, and he does try to make it better, but sometimes you can only be thankful of what you have still. This look of his is one of them.
This particular look is reserved for you alone, made of gentle edges whittled down by your persistence to get close; the walls around his heart so low they’re all but flattened. This particular look is full of something more than just ash and hollow soot: it’s full of warmth and giddy happiness. This particular look is one you can’t help but cherish.
“You look lovely today,” He hums, peering into your eyes as he masterfully dodges stepping on your feet. His hair is messy and crumpled from where you’d ran your hand through it, making him all the more endearing.
“And you look like you’re about to pass out,” you tease, squeezing his hand.
“How do I look like besides that, though?”
“Gorgeous and radiant,” You playfully coo, laughing when his face splits into a wide grin.
Nothing else is said after as you both fall into the rhythm of being near each other. To and fro, to and fro, you sway; to and fro. The smell of old books and the sound of a crackling radio all fade into the background as you and Lockwood slowly but surely lean in to rest your foreheads gently against one another’s. He pushes his nose into yours, humming along to the song, and like instinct your lips fall into each other’s. The world sways as you do, to and fro, to and fro.
Kissing him tastes like warmth and joy bottled up; feels like sinking into your bed and hiding yourself away from the world. Kissing him feels like everything is going to be all right.
A camera click startles you both and you quickly pull away (still in each other’s arms) to find Lucy at the door. She’s grinning ear to ear with a twinkle in her eyes as she leans back out of the doorway and yells,
“George! I won!” and leaves.
You and Lockwood stay there standing, before slowly falling into a fit of giggles and deeper into each other’s arms. From beyond the door, Lucy and George race down the steps in a thunderous manner, and suddenly the whole of 35 Portland Row is awake well past midnight. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Your song plays again the next day in the library, and the smile that takes you over has Lockwood kissing you again just for how beautiful you are to him. The world settles in your kisses, and when you dance you do little more than hold onto each other and sway; to and fro, to and fro.
A/N: This actually gave me some nostalgia, because I used to love the radio (the old classic ones they don’t make anymore) and I loved when we used it. I’m also SUCH fan of swaying with someone you love gently, and just— UGH.
#portie writes fanfic#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood and co x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood x you
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Just Another Day in Hades...(Requiem of the Survivors Event React III)
Henlo again, third post time! Make sure you check out the previous parts before continuing!
->Part 1 ->
->Part 2->
Good to go? Let's finish this~
So we're back and this is final part to my react post!! It's mostly the damn image limit that kills me. Let me have 50 images per post ugh.
Anywayssss
WOMP I spelt his name wrong in another post like all the way wrong. It's bad enough Orias couldn't even remember his name lmao
I'm crying because level with me...
I read his name because of the typo as "Zaddy" instead of Zadkie
Sure. I mean I'll call him Zaddy ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ (btw this is a different way of calling someone "Daddy" during sex)
Now you know your admin was being horny for another angel again. I am never leaving the streets at this point and Dre has his eyes on me ready to have some words.
m o v i n g o n n nn
So Orias is hyping up the angel trying to get him ready for when leviathan gets over to him. they see him from afar and have their little talk, and Zadkiel is nervous asf (as he should be) but Orias is like "you're fine :D" all while he's over there slobbering over Levi's soul again.
See. Look at him. Just confident.
Also this part I'm just gonna hurry up and paraphrase so
"Levi" walks up to Orias and the angel and after the two of them stare at each other BAM Orias tells the angels to attack "Levi" immediately.
Looks like they got him right???
W R O N G
After Orias ripped through "Levi's" chest and ate the orb, it didn't taste at all what he expected, and...it had the opposite affect of what he thought it would too.
Won't you look at that, Orias wasn't the only one who fucking came in with a failsafe key sort of speak.
SO remember back when I said Zadkiel was staring at Levi??? Well he knew who it was because it wasn't really Levi at all but an old colleague of his named Ose that was disguised by the real Levi who only half trusted Orias's note.
And as I suspected, Levi was too smart for that and if we remember that he and orias are the ones that can lie. so both parties threw everyone for a loop.
Leviathan played his cards right and he won. Foras witnessed such a thing before his eyes knowing he was probs gonna win anyway lol
And omfg how cheeky, Levi also just wanted to know what would happen if Orias swallowed the soul omg. Lol this is wild.
So in short honestly, Zadkiel gave up, seems that he was under Gabriel since he said his name as his last words and the Leviathan monster pretty much swallowed everyone up. It nearly goes for Orias but Levi stops it.
Yes, even after all this bullshit, Levi sticks to his original promise that he wasn't going to do anything to Orias. In fact, he even has the monster spit out a few souls for Orias to eat.
Now see here, this whole "omg being over 21 means your so old now wow" joke is tiring because no one in their 20s looks like Orias who I assume looks like a wrinkled fucking peach under there and his hair is kinda greyed out too? which I mean I've heard of that happening but come on. lol
otherwise though it comes to a conclusion that Orias was pissed off that he was tricked even though he's the one that tricked Levi in the first place
I can't either Foras. I really can't. Orias needs the timeout chair if he's gonna act like this because omg it's almost like Levi is gentle parenting him so he can act better but I mean technically none of this is a good example of gentle parenting lol
But also, Orias has a new noose on his neck and if I'm reading the room correctly, I think Levi intends on using it in it future because of how he says "your life belongs to me" and that it's not like the old one.
Orias is on a tight leash now, Levi's promise still hasn't changed, and our nobles learned more about him and us too.
CONCLUSION
So for this event I give it a 9/10. One point off because Orias is being a little brat which kinda came off to me as in his big age, he was still acting like a child.
Like yes, give him some grace because he was at that farm with Levi and had horrible stuff done to him and especially one that causes aging to where he may even die in another year or so and he's addicted to angel souls now and it makes him want more and more.
I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting to highlight something...but I'mma be honest I'm running off fumes and I haven't slept at all SO if I do remember I'll just edit it in here.
But but I hope you all enjoyed the heavy lore again, I really appreciate this that they're doing for the story because it's starting to kind of align with the main story kindish? And we get to see glimpses of how the devils are without MC around so I'm getting my piece of slice of life demon pie.
NOW though with the event done. I'm sure the next one crossing my fingers will be a Lucifer-centered one. maybe. Because they have told us before chapter updates would be every three months or so so that's a lot of waiting that I'm glad for because that means more time to beef up cards, unlock holy board stories, farm for materials. The best time for a f2p peep.
btw these advanced candies are gonna fucking be the end of me, it's almost like I need to ONLY nab those during events because they get you at the end with those.
As always appreciate you all for reading my stuff, after I sleep today I'll get back to work on those requests again T^T
byeee~ -your lovely admin ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb leviathan#whb hades bois 💜#whb spoilers#whb event#whb orias#there was a lot of lore in here#team no sleep tho#zaddy come to me#lmao
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Randomly visited reddit and saw this:
My first thought: it's an incel pretending to be a woman, because what modern woman thinks she's spoiled milk a 30??? (Aside from also trashing her girl friends - girl, get better friends!) But their profile doesn't seem weird in any way, so, I guess there are some people out there who really somehow believe youth ends at 29. Even some who have aged past it.
It's not even true that all 30 year olds are less beautiful than they were at 20. People age in different ways at at different rates: yeah, your likelihood of getting wrinkles and gray hairs is only ever going to go up. But some people don't have their style figured out in their twenties - some people turn thirty and freaking bloom. And you can't call that a late bloomer. 40 isn't a late bloomer either! 20 is nice but it's not the heaven on earth it's cracked up to be, and 30 is just getting started.
Idk about the rest of you but you know those posts about how embarrassing it is to look back on 14? Yeah, related to those when I was 20. Now I've passed the big 3-0, and guess what - I think 20 year old me was so silly lol. So insecure, so afraid to make mistakes, so resistant to change. I enjoyed my twenties, but my early thirties have so far been way better: I'm more confident, less self-involved, and I find happiness so much more easily than I did back when I thought everything I did had to matter So Damn Much. And if you think that doesn't relate to being attractive: confidence is 90% of it. Just walk up and smile. A confident, happy person always attracts others even if they're just average-looking.
Also for people who like men, don't forget: men in their 30s usually aren't quite the energizer bunnies they were in their 20s when it comes to ~sexy times~ The 20-year-old stud who insisted he could go for a roll multiple times a day, every day, is probably much less gung ho at 30. And also more forward-thinking, and less amaaaaazed by omg boobies!!! When you're young, half the excitement is just how new everything is. It gets less intense, thank goodness. (But it's still hot!)
This post just totally rubbed me the wrong way. It read as a still young woman anxiously wringing her hands in apology for having the audacity to be single at... 30?? And apparently not trusting women to have good advice about dating at 30 (so no point in me responding to her, lol), but perfectly comfortable kissing up to incel mindsets such as "women past 25 should accept that they're sloppy seconds" etc. "Value as a partner" do you have intrinsic worth as a human being?? Yes??? Then your value does NOT degrade. Yeah, you might have gray hair, the horror, so unsexy (I've had very visible grays since I was 23 and been dyeing since 26 lmao). Doesn't mean you're less hot than some 20 year old who doesn't know what she's doing. Doesn't mean it'll be at all hard to find a partner who will love you warts and all. Do you have this same expectation of men? Are you gonna start dating a 30 year old dude and then complain that he gets tired more quickly than a 20 year old would?? Is he less sexy just because he doesn't party all night and drink twice his weight without effect? Overrated overrated overrated!
My parents divorced in their 60s. My mom's got a new boyfriend who takes her dancing under the full moon. They're living their best lives way past their so-called "prime" and no, that is not rare - it's just a choice. If you view yourself as having some expiration date, you're not gonna do anything to improve your happiness once you're past it. Don't let incels or misogyny or whatever convince you your perfectly wholesome milk has gone bad, because that is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
ETA: Well, while I was working this got 150 notes, and although that's barely a drop in the bucket, it's still a lot more than my rants usually get (about 2 lol). So I just want to clarify a couple things so I stop getting comments about them.
This post was from the askmen subreddit. I left that out, feeling "reddit" was context enough, but I guess the implications may not have been obvious, especially to tumblr users who don't also use reddit. Askmen isn't a horrible place (a number of the responders pointed out why they prefer older women to younger ones), but many of its members have a pretty incel-adjacent vibe. Plus there are a number of women (real or not) who post there, many of whom have a similar brown-nosey "unlike those radical feminists, I'm a woman who knows her place" attitude.
It's fine to suggest the OP may have internalized misogyny from being abused - but it's not a given, as nothing in the post is a definite indication of abuse by itself. Big kudos for the compassion - just keep in mind that my response was about general attitudes towards dating post-twenties and not about abuse victims.
To the person who thinks a relationship of six years makes a difference somehow?: You seem to have interpreted my post as an attack on people who feel insecure about returning to dating after a breakup. But I think it's clearly nothing to do with that. Of course it is natural to have anxieties about being single after so long, but nowhere in this post was that denied or mocked. Whether you've been together one year or six, this post would always be weird - those natural anxieties don't make misogynistic mindsets about decrepit 30-year-old women any less gross. If you had decided to write a reaction to the OP's post, perhaps you would have chosen to center it on the effects of coming off a long term relationship, and I'm sure it'd be insightful. However, I am not you, and I chose to react to the attitudes around aging in relationships reflected in the post.
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could you post the links from soundgasm 👀
i got more asks about this than notes on the post so here y’all go lmao. some parts of these are a little cringe but that’s just my taste and you might find it hot
https://soundgasm.net/u/aasimaraudio/Hey-You-Deserve-Better-Will-Ya
(def gives eddie vibes) after a string of bad dates after breaking up with your ex, your best friend confesses he thinks he could make you happy
friends to lovers, lots of plot/buildup, car sex, slight mdom but mostly it’s just sweet
https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/M4F-Stop-Fucking-Calling-Me-Dddy
(kinda roommate! steve vibes) your roommate thinks being called daddy is gross, so you keep calling him that to make fun of him. eventually he snaps and puts you in your place
roommates to lovers, kink shaming in the beginning, mdom, degradation, daddy kink
https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/M4F-Trapped-in-Your-Asshole-Friends-Tent
(this one also made me think of steve) you sneak into your frenemy’s tent after “hearing a bear” but that’s just an excuse to cover up what you actually came for
enemies to lovers, kinda-hate sex (but you actually secretly like eachother), a tiny bit of exhibitionism, some degradation
https://soundgasm.net/u/aasimaraudio/Let-Me-Lend-You-A-Bit-Of-A-Hand-Will-Ya
you burn your hands and can’t use them, leaving your roommate to help you do basic tasks like brushing your teeth *warning 10/10 cringe*
roommates to lovers, mdom, daddy kink, mirror sex
https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/M4F-Making-a-Deal-with-Your-Best-Friends-Younger-Brother
your friend’s younger brother makes a bet with you, if he can make you cum he gets to fuck you
friends to lovers, soft mdom
https://soundgasm.net/u/AugustInTheWinter/Watching-a-Sex-Scene-with-Your-Friend
you make fun of your friend for trying to skip a sex scene but watching it has unintended consequences
friends to lovers, soft mdom, mutual masturbation
https://soundgasm.net/u/aasimaraudio/Give-Me-Some-Sloppy-Toppy-While-I-Frag-Out-Will-Ya-M4F
you cause your boyfriend to lose an important game so he has you make up for it by supporting him under the desk
mdom, some degradation, exhibitionism
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