pollutionisallaroundme

[pollutionisallaroundme]

i need more sub lando, i’m BEGGING

♪ — 𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗘 sub! lando norris x dom! girlfriend! reader (fluff+smut) “. . . only way to fix bad behaviour is to teach a lesson.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"It's now, officially 9:30 pm." You turned your lock screen to the camera so they could see the digital watch. "I have to go feed the man hogging my bed." You rolled back in your chair to stand up.

"It's not hogging it if you're not using it." Lando argued, rolling on his back, watching you adjust your pants and brush your hoodie ( his, it's his hoodie you little thief ) into shape.

He hugged a pillow, watching you stick your tongue out at him as you walked out the room to the kitchen. Lando rolled back on his stomach, waving hi to the stream.

He looked at the door for a few minutes before getting up and sitting where you would. He bit his lips in excitement as he rocked qcloser to the monitors. "You guys wanna see pictures I have of Y/N?"

You walked back in the room only to find Lando sitting criss-cross, explaining stories from your shared adventures. You stood behind him, quietly eating through the nuggets and fries you were able to get together.

"And this one is from whe— excuse me." Lando was holding the photo for the camera, only to hide it when he noticed your presence. His eyes lit up seeing the plate of fried goods in your hands. The brit quickly opened his mouth, expecting you to feed him like you usually did.

He leaned forward to take a bite only for you to pull the nugget at the last second. Lando frowned up at you, while you chewed and checked on the speed chat. "I spoil you to much." You chuckling quietly. "Give me one!" "Say the magic word." "Y/N, I'm not four! I'm a grown man. Give me one." He whined.

You pulled your plate out of his reach when he tried to steal. Moving back only for him to turn and reach, ultimately falling back with the chair. You watched as Lando laid on the floor, accepting the embarrassing moment forever on the internet. "Just give me one, Y/N . . . please?"

He bit your fingers ( on purpose ) when you fed him. "Payback." He wigged his eyebrows to the camera as you sat on his lap to continue the stream. He sat quietly for the next half hour resting his chin on your shoulder, sneaking kisses on your jaw, cheek or neck.

Only when the clock struck 10:30 did Lando started to get more need and clingy. You had to end the stream because he wanted to take a shower but didn't want to let go of you.

He watched you in the bathroom mirror as you undressed, gently nuzzling in your neck from behind. "Lan, hun." "Hmm?" "You have to take off your pants. Don't shower with them on." "Mmmm . . . you take them off."

You rolled your eyes playfully, turning around his arms and unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants. "Baby. I'm in love with a baby." You teased-scolded, striping him naked. Lando only, tilted you chin up for a kiss.

A rough passionate kiss. He tried to push you back flush against the wall, his hands finding the skin of your hips with a desperate grip. He could feel the amused chuckle that slipped against his lips along with your fingers delicately trailing down his back and torso. Your hand eventually found his ass with a firm squeeze.

You felt him yelp and flinch against your touch. "Are we going to behave? You're not going to give me a hard time, right?" Lando stuttered a yes as you pushed him in the shower.

With the warm water running down his body, Lando squeezed his eyes shut while you warmed up up. Kisses and hickies marked his body with you pressing him into the wall and your hands re-exploring the skin of his flesh. "I wanna, Y/N." He whined feeling your hand trail closer to his crotch only to pull away last second.

"Be a good boy and stay still." You patted his chest gently, admiring the mess of purplish shapes covering his perfect skin. Lando sucked in a breath. The way you got down on your knees and took him in your mouth pulled an instant grunt from his lips.

Lando was quick to find ypur hair and attept to push you further down. He was only met with a spank to his ass, a jolt running up his spine. "You don't wanna get punished again, do you? I don't think your ass can handle another whip." Lando was quick to shake his hear and pull his hands away from you.

His breath cought in his throat once more witha broken moan upon feeling your lips wrap around him again. He knew the drill, stasstill and be vocal. It took everything in him to hold back the occasional back arching or involuntary thrust. He felt his body and heels grow warm, his back slumping and hand gripping onto the shower bar.

"L-love. I'm so close. S'close." He begged gripping his hair in frustration as his orgasm started to build up and up. You enjoyed this, looking up at him through your lashes. Lando was wrapped around your finger, moans falling from his mouth like a stream of waterfalls.

"No no, I want to cum." He whined feeling the cool air and warm water where your mouth should be. "Y/N stop teasing." He pleased, jolting with a gasp feeling you lick up his length slowly. "Oh— oh— I—I'm so close, my love." "Magic word?" "Fuck no. I'm a man." You laughed quietly shaking your head.

With one swift move, you and Lando were on the floor. With you ontop, Lando could only gasp and moan as you rode him. With his hands pinned above his head and body being littered with love bites and nibbles. "I've never seen a man so submissive. So weak. So marked and whiney. Are you man?" Lando shook his head quickly stuttering a no.

"Then what are you? A slut? You look like it to me. More like a pet. A needy puppy." "Y—your slut. Your dog." You giggled at his confession, pressing soft kisses to his jaw despite the rough pace. "Oh? You're being such a good boy right now? You want a reward? You want a treat?" You watched as he hugged your waist with desperate nods, his hips stuttering up to meet yours.

"You're going to have to ask nicely. Show me you can be good." "I'm so close . . . Please. Please let me cum. Please, mommy." You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "I've been bad I know. I'll make it up to you I promise. Please please." You could see his chest rise up and down quicker and his voice grow thinner in pitch.

"I'm so close, please please." Lando begged, little nails digging in your hips. "Wait a little more like a good boy." "I said please." He whined arching his chest up in yours, legs squirming as he mustered all his strength to hold back.

"You're not wearing a condom so wait." "Please, Y/N."

This went on for a few more moments before you reached your orgasm and pulling out. And on command, Lando was quick to succumb to his release as well. Deep breaths swelling in his chest as he calmed down slowly in your arms.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

♪ — 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 oscar piastry x girlfriend! reader (smut smut / comfort) “. . . just some bottom boy oscar with some aftercare.”

( master list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests | taglist )

There's smut right under here, so, careful

His whimpers and moans filled the hotel room as he gripped the sheets tightly to the point his knuckles turned white, Oscar clenched his eyes shut in attempt to comfort himself. His knees where bent with elbows propped up to support his upper body.

You could feel Oscar flinch and squirm, breathy moanes and pleads slipping from his mouth as you continued to suck him off, drawing him to his next orgasm. As to how much times you've already made him reach his peak, you've lost count after six, and at this point he was cumming dry.

You push his hips down each time he involuntarily bucked up into your mouth, stroking his thigh to offer him a sense of comfort through his torture.

"Y/N." He whined, voice high pitch as he bit his lip, heaving as he reached yet another dry orgasm. Pained moans trickling down his lips as his legs shook, attempting to pull away.

You held him back from his aggressively pulsing dick, a cute whimper falling from his mouth as he fell back on his shoulders, legs visibly shaking. "Please, Y/N." Oscar felt himself flinch and twitch as you traced your finger over his anger red tip.

You chuckled as you climbed on your younger boyfriend's lap, giving him a break as you pressed soft kisses to his bare chest and neck. He held onto your hips as you licked his tears away, breath steadying as you kissed the tender skin under his jaw and his cheek.

You laid on top of him whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose in your neck. A few moments later, he turned you over with him on top, bending his knees to support himself as he aligned to you.

"Oscar?" "Your turn." He mumbled in your neck, gently pushing himself in. A moan escaped your mouth as a silent cry escaped his. "Fuck." You loved having him overestimed, but not to this extent.

"It's okay." You bent your knees up, putting them between his hips and yours to stop his thrusts. "Your turn." He insisted making you chuckle. Oscar leaned his body up on his hands looking down at you.

"Awh. Oscar, baby." You pouted stroking his tear stained cheek with your thumb gently. He closed his eyes as you licked his tears away. "No no no." He begged, falling into you as you gently pushed him out. "Y/N!" He begged in your neck as another orgasm hit him pulling screams and cries from his mouth.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." You whispered in his ear, stroking his hair gently as you pressed kisses to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he sobbed his climax out. "Let's go take a shower?" You suggest crawling from under him and pulling his vibrating body to sit up. You cupped his cheeks kissing his tears away before pulling him in a soft hug.

"Come on." You held his hands as you pulled him up to his feet. He didn't even make it past the second step before his legs gave out and you had to catch him. "This feels hamulating." he sighed shakily as you helped him into the bath tub. "It's not though."

You kissed his cheek before turning on warm water. You scrubbed his hair and body gently with soap and shampoo, avoiding his sensitive dick. He leaned onto you as you washed his back, a few calm hums vibrating in his throat. "Oscar, love. Don't fall asleep just yet." You rubbed his back as you turned the water of.

His arms and hands lingered on your body, eyes following you longingly as you got up to get a towel. Oscar enjoyed your touch as you dried his body and hair, holding your hand as you walked him back to bed.

He wrapped his arms around you immediately and cuddled his body into yours. "I love you." He mumbled into your neck while you stroked his hair softly. "I love you more." You kissed his cheek. But by now, he had already passed out, soft breaths hitting your neck as he escaped to dream land.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Were you two fighting last night?" Lando asked at breakfast the next day making you and Oscar pause through your meal like dears caught in headlights.

"Are you guys going to break up?" His jaw dropped looking between the two of you. "No no no." You denied quickly shaking your heads. "Then what was the crying I was hearing— oh— OH."

The truth dawned on his as he caught a glance of his teammate's shaky legs. ". . . You two are disgusting." He gushed with a mouth full. "I never took you for a bottom." He commented making Oscar nudge him huffing.

"I'm a switch." The Australian defended, folding his arms. You could only chuckle to yourself at the claim which made Oscar quickly glare at you. "What? I didn't say anything." You giggled as you continued to eat your pancakes with a small smile.

"Gross." Lando fake gagged.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

art humping your thigh while you're too busy analyzing his recent matches <33

mhm. u sit with your laptop in bed while art kisses your neck. he’s supposed to be watching too but he’s sleepy, he doesn’t wanna watch anymore, he wants to feel. he presses his lips to the base of your neck, just above your collar bone. you tilt your jaw up to allow his way with you, but you keep your eyes trained on the screen.

“you kept missing on thursday because you centre yourself to the left just a bit. he always hit it to the right and you had to scramble.”

“mm.”

his voice reverberated in your throat as his lips stayed against you.

“i don’t know if you’re playing this guy again, but it’s something to keep in mind.”

“ok.”

he moves over you, shifting his weight till both of his legs are either side of one of yours. he holds your shoulder like a child holds a teddy bear.

his head nestles into your neck, his hair tickles your chin, and you sigh.

“art im trying to help you. they’re fucking you. i don’t want to watch my husband get fucked on the court.”

“can you help me somewhere else?”

you readjust so you can see the laptop better, and kiss his scalp.

“help yourself.”

on the video, art lunges forward, his lean body extending as he grunts like a man and pounds the ball away. sweat pours from every pore on his forehead, chest, arms, and he shines in the sun. it cuts to his competitor, who grazes the ball with his racket to no avail.

in your bed, art presses down onto you, dragging himself backwards. he mewls, hoping to get more of your attention. instead of acknowledging him you pet his hair with a lazy wrist, eyes never leaving the screen. he was playing better now. he won the match after all, but it was still important to review his performance. if he got too comfortable he would start slipping. you needed him on a tight leash if he was going to keep crushing.

he rotates his hips, each time crushing your thigh with a force that must be painful to him. each layer of clothes that separated his flesh from yours slid against the other, the phantom of your touch driving him to desperation.

“you did well for this last set.”

“yeah?”

he pushed himself forward, and drew himself back raking his throbbing groin against your lower thigh. his breath shuddered on your chest. he was working up a rhythm, a dragging, quivering, breathless rhythm.

“yeah. no notes, donaldson.”

“hmm. thank you.”

“are you hard?”

“obviously.”

“i’m not helping you.”

“obviously.”

you laugh. you swirl your fingers in his cropped blonde hair.

“you can do it. i believe in you.”

he doesn’t reply, just groans. his knee was bent, and he held himself up ever so slightly so as to drive himself against you with the most force he could. in his shorts was a sticky, leaking cock, rubbed sensitive. in your panties was a wet, aching pussy. but one of you needed to think of his career.

on the video he sat down, a rest period, with his shirt off, leaning back with his legs spread.

“oh, fuck,” he said, teeth clenched.

you could feel the long thick imprint of his cock, and through all the fabric you could still feel it twitch. you sighed and closed the laptop as his humping quickened and his knee raised further between your legs. as he drove himself down upon you, he knocked his knee to the throbbing of your clit. you breathed deeply.

“you did a good job on thursday. i’m proud of you.”

“thank you. thank you.”

your hand moved to his back, tight from digging his fingers into your shoulder for purchase. he slammed his hips down, making a fwop fabric sounds. you grunted airily.

“that’s enough,” you breathed.

his hips stilled on top of you, pressed to you. he lifted his head, lips parted and cheekbones pink.

“you have a match tommorow. use it.”

[pollutionisallaroundme]

art would be so enthusiastic about trying for a baby. he’d wanna be balls deep in your pussy at all times 😭🫨😵‍💫

oh YEAH. art donaldson loves to creampie you. once you two have been together for over several years and are actively trying to get pregnant, he realizes something about himself that he hadn't before: he has a breeding kink.

at first it started simple. you tracked your ovulation and whatnot with that little app on your phone, and you two would have sex nearly every night. and nearly every night he'd cum inside of you. it was heaven for him; feeling your gooey walls clench and throb around him as your body milked him for every drop.

one time, when he had you flat on your back in bed, moaning and holding onto his shoulders as he rutted tenderly into your cunt, he caught himself wanting to say hyper-specific dirty things.

"gonna fill you and make you a mommy," he'd wanted to say, "gonna cum until it leaks out of you."

but he hadn't. it was embarrassing, wasn't it? who knows if you'd even like that kinda stuff. this was purely to make a baby. not to indulge him in some secret kink he had. he had kept his mouth shut, and he had finished copiously inside of you. just like he did every time. and he withered afterwards on top of your chest and pouted, but he hid this from you well.

and then a few days later, it all changed.

he was fucking you gently in bed, nothing surprising, when you had started to reach down and rub your clit. he felt you tighten around him, and he thrusted into you a bit faster. as you got closer and closer, some words spilled from your parted lips that caught him fully by surprise.

"fuck me, art," you moaned out, "fill me up completely! i want your babies so bad-!"

and it was like something in him completely snapped.

he let out a guttural groan and instantly shot milky white ropes into your pussy, right up against your cervix. spurt after spurt after spurt of him flooded into your body, and he kept himself buried in you up to the hilt for as long as he could. his hands clutched your hips, his eyes rolled back. the orgasm had caught him utterly and wholly off-guard, and he moaned and trembled furiously over you as he rode it out.

after that, he was always vocal during sex about his want to get you pregnant. or rather, to express his love for the process that resulted in getting you pregnant..

he'd put you in doggy, and prone-bone, and cowgirl; claiming that all of these positions helped with conception, but you knew that he just wanted to be able to look and squeeze at all of your curves and soft, plush skin—in all his favorite ways—as he bred your hole.

"fuck, FUCK—! you're gonna be such a good mommy—!" he would gasp into your shoulder when he'd take you from behind.

"you want me to cum deep inside? give you my kids?"

"you wanna make me a daddy? oh god, let me cum— i'm gonna cum! i'm gonna give you everything i've got!"

"keep it all inside!"

you got pregnant that same month. twins.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

IMAGINE GIVING SUB!ART HEAD WHILE HE IS DRIVING

(I know we have never interacted but I binge read all of your mike faist characters fics and I’m obsessed with your blog so forgive me for intruding)

three hours, cross-state, is hardly a lengthy roadtrip, but you and art make it feel like one. packing snacks and making playlists for the ride. it's not often that you two will travel within the state; there have always been more occasions that require the two of you to fly. so, it's only natural for this to be treated like a fun little adventure.

almost like a date.

art's got a tournament tomorrow afternoon on the west side, yet he still insisted on being the one to drive.

after about an hour and a half, the songs start to loop back around in the mix and the lull of the highway's soft rumbling against the wheels makes the blonde's lids start to droop. it's warm inside the vehicle as the trees and fields of grass go by, and that only makes it harder to stay conscious.

and when you say something to art to try to get his attention, and he nearly jolts upright in his seat, you know you have to do something to try to keep him awake..

"baby.." you say, giving him a look that says 'cmon now'.

he sighs, blinking and trying to shake the sleepiness from his head.

".. 'm fine, i'm fine.." he tries to protest, fighting your gentle but accusatory expression. he fails. he yawns.

the sight of his tousled golden curls hanging over his forehead, and his strong hands gripping the steering wheel, is all it takes for you to start readjusting in the passenger seat.

you give a soft tug to your seatbelt to coax it to give you more range of motion, and then you're leaning over the empty cupholders between your body and his to start undoing the tie on his loose joggers.

art chuckles weakly and flushes tomato-red all over his cheeks, his gaze darting rapidly from your head hovering above his lap to the windshield.

"woah, woah," he breathes out, "i.. you don't have to do that. and isn't it a little illegal..?"

you smirk, grabbing onto the sides of his pants and pulling them down his hips to reveal just the top half of his boxers. just enough to get ahold of what you crave.

"do you want me to stop?" you speak softly and slowly, lifting your head up to look to his aqua blue irises. his pupils are massively blown, you notice them right away. he's already tenting in his briefs.

art swallows thickly. and then he shakes his head.

you nod, chuckling, and look back down to the last piece of clothing between your skin and his.

"ive got you, babe," you whisper, "just keep your eyes on the road and try not to get us in a wreck, yeah?"

he nods wearily, and a small jolt of his hips follows suit.

you pull down his boxers just enough to let his heavy parts spring out, and then you're leaning in to engulf his throbbing tip in your mouth.

art can't stop it-- he immediately lets out a guttural moan, low in his chest as his face crumples with the pleasure of feeling your soft, wet mouth suckle on his cock. one of his hands shakily reaches down from the steering wheel to affectionately rub over your upper back and neck.

"Ouungh— fuh-fuck..." he whines softly.

you hum around him encouragingly, beginning to bob your head up and down as you feel him swell over your tongue.

his back arches up from the seat, and his hand on your body tightens to fist at the fabric of your top like he's gonna burst.

"mmmph- mhmmm- mhmmm-" you moan around him. he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head, and he starts to needily buck his hips as you suck him in the exact way that always drives him crazy.

in the middle of taking him to the back of your throat, an involuntary hum of surprise is pulled from your chest as you feel the car swerve sharply.

you give a few playful but corrective pats to the side of one of his thighs, and he moans before he mumbles out a rushed 's-sorry, sorry'.

your tongue curls around his shaft, licking up the precome that's mixing thickly with your sticky spit, and you swear that you hear a couple stitches in your shirt tear as he pulls at it and shudders.

his eyes are on the road, but art's mind is wholly consumed by you and everything that you're doing to him. how is it possible for one person to know all of his weak-spots? everything that makes him want to spill down into your tummy as you milk him dry?

his thoughts of disbelief are cruelly interrupted when you begin to suck him faster, hollowing your cheeks and lapping at the underside of his cockhead as your palm strokes the base.

he lurches forward in his seat with a pained whimper right before his legs start to shake; his muscles tensing all over as he tries not to close his eyes and risk running the car off the highway.

"ohhh, shit, hah—please, i'm almost—“ he fucks into your mouth gently, waves of hot aching pleasure building up from his gut as he spares a few looks down into his lap where your head moves earnestly.

you don't hesitate; stroking and laving your mouth over him lovingly and passionately, making sure to hum around him in an effort to send some vibrations up through his pulsing length. you squeeze your eyes shut.

art can't hold back anymore. he just cant.

he's nearly curled over the wheel when his hips jerk once, twice, three times, and then he's crying out as he calls out your name and comes.

it gushes past your adoring lips, glazing them for just a moment before you swallow him down and let the walls of your throat squeeze around his cock.

your boyfriend is sobbing softly with overstimulation and ecstasy, writhing in the driver's seat. your hand only continues to move relentlessly though, stroking his oversensitive shaft and cupping his balls as he chokes on his words.

"oh, please," he whimpers out, fingers still tightly grasping onto your shirt, maybe even harder than before. his toes curl in his court-scuffed sneakers, and he slurs out an assortment of 'too much' and 'so sensitive' and 'i'm done'.

you slurp up his leaking parts and pull yourself off with a soft pop and smack of your lips, grinning as you sit up and look to his dazed expression; chest heaving, legs shaking, eyes lidded. his hand leaves your back to return to the wheel, but you dont miss the way it trembles against the worn leather.

your clean hand reaches up to push back his blonde locks, and he squeezes the steering wheel as he struggles to gain his bearings back. a chuckle leaves your saliva-slicked lips, and you lean in close to his ear as he pants like a puppy.

"you still sleepy?" you whisper lowly.

all art can manage is a soft shiver and a moan, but he shakes his head the best he can.

"good."

safe to say he drove the rest of the way to the destination without so much as a whiff of being tired. the only thing that bothered him during the remainder of the journey was the smug look on your face, and the way his half-hard dick wouldn't go down (no matter how much he tried not to think about your touch).

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Calling Art ‘Artemis’ in public while out with a group of friends and he gets hard IMMEDIATELY. desperately trying to his it from the other while he whimpers from the lack of friction..

i’m literally losing it my god #ovulating (also sorry for spamming your asks all the time)

venus real as fuck.

like you’re out with art and a handful of other tennis players at some catered banquet, gathered around a table and conversing casually. neither of you really know these individuals; it’s all small-talk, and polite smiles, and laughing at the right times.

you’re sat right next to the blonde, and he’s engaged in what-seems-to-be an interesting conversation. your knee knocks his, but it doesn’t do much except make his breath catch subtly for a moment. and then he’s back to talking.

you talk with some others at the table, and then a hostess arrives with an anticipatory smile and opens her notepad. “what can i get for everyone?”

the others order, going around the circle, and then it gets to you before it gets to art.

you hum, looking over the menu of different expensive wines and luxurious dishes, and you sigh. your eyes pour over the options. your knee bumps art’s again, and he jolts slightly in his seat.

“what are you thinking, Artemis?”

everyone at the table looks to the man next to you, completely confused. artemis? no, that’s art. what’s going on?

but art knows what’s going on. he looks to you, a whine bubbling up in his throat that he has to swallow down as his cheeks tint a bright red up to his ears. his real, full name was something you were only supposed to use against him in the bedroom.

not in public. not here.

and because the only other times he’s heard it come out of your mouth have been when you were praising him or telling him he had permission to come, his cock starts to involuntarily swell in his dress pants.

he shakes his head and clears his throat as he tries to push down the nervousness and arousal that he assumes is as clear as day on his face.

“i— i don’t know yet, im still deciding,” he says to you, an embarrassed chuckle spilling forth.

you smile at him softly, innocently, and nod.

now his knee is pushing against yours under the tabletop, harder than you had tapped his minutes prior, and you know he’s silently begging for you to do something.

he shifts in his seat, basically writhing, and his breathing falters. the person sitting on the opposite side of him gives him a funny look like ‘this dude has ants in his fuckin’ pants’, but they remain oblivious to the pulsing boner art has fully popped in his clothing. poor guy.

Artemis, Artemis, Artemis.

it rings through his skull, in your voice, as he sits there and waits for you to order so that he can do the same. he wants this whole fiasco to be over so that he can excuse himself, stand up from his chair, cover the tent in the front of his pants, and wobble his way to the public bathrooms to take care of himself.

he’d curse you out if he could, but he’s too busy squirming in his seat against the hot pleasure starting to bubble in his lower abdomen. no, it’s boiling now. his shaft rubs against the inside of his boxers in the wrong way, and the smallest of noises leaves his lips.

you’re evil.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

ART 👏🏾 DONALDSON 👏🏾IS 👏🏾 A👏🏾 THIGHS 👏🏾 MAN👏🏾

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk

art likes anything that has to do with your thighs. he truly lives and breathes for any opportunity to play with them, and he'd be lying if he said that it wasn’t like a moth to a flame.

when you're sitting down on the couch, he has his head in your lap resting over your thighs.

when you're laying down with him in bed, he kneads and squeezes and palms your fleshy limbs under the covers. it helps him sleep sometimes. it also makes him ever so slightly (very much) aroused, but he usually tries to ignore that at bedtime when you're already exhausted.

when he's down on his knees for you, your panties off and your legs spread, he makes sure to give your thighs extra attention. 'tender loving care', he had called it one time. eating you out makes him cum quick, usually untouched, so he opts to kiss and suckle and nip at your thighs for a while beforehand so that he can delay this (and hopefully make you cum before he gets a chance to). he leaves tons of lovebites every time, but you like the way they look when you're naked in the mirror before a shower or when you're getting dressed, so it doesn’t really matter. he, of course, loves the look of them too. he likes looking at the small, muddled patches of purple and red on your delicate skin. it makes him feel proud. among other things..

one year, on his 29th birthday, he had sheepishly asked you something that you were surprised he hadn't asked years prior.

"Can I— only if you want to— but can I please fuck your thighs..?"

and wow, did that get your core bubbling with heat.

it was his birthday, so of course you had said yes. even if it wasn't his birthday, you knew you didn't need to be asked twice. you'd give him whatever he asked for — he was always so good to you, so he deserved it all.

first, he bent you over the bed, one hand pressing down on the small of your back, and then he pulled down your underwear. he slipped two fingers over your soaking folds and slid them back and forth to feel you; little moans slipping out of lips as his cock throbbed and bobbed in front of him. you actually felt his tip brush against your ass a few times as he struggled to resist the urge to just drop to the floor and lick you all over.

he knew he wouldn't last long just from feeling you up like that, so he then took his cock in his hand and gingerly slotted it between your thighs and right below your mound. you had hung your head down against the comforter as his had tipped back in pure, unadultered pleasure. his brows knitted together as an anguished whine spilled out from his chest.

he started out slowly, sliding his leaking cock in and out of where it was trapped between your limbs, but he had gotten close much faster than he usually had when he was actually inside you. every thrust had his cockhead bumping and rubbing your clit. he picked up the pace pretty quickly, rapidly pumping himself back and forth as you crossed your legs and squeezed your plush thighs together to give him more needed pressure. you knew what he liked, you knew what would make him feel best, and you knew that you had wanted to make that birthday gift feel special, so you started to talk a little here and there. you mumbled obscenities, some praise, and groaned out words that you were certain would make his brain fuzzy.

"you like my thighs, babe?"

“you like fucking my pretty legs?”

“doin’ so good, art.. god, i feel you leaking..”

he keened, nodding behind you as his cock pulsed.

"Mm— yeah, yes.. oh my god, yes.. yes yes yes-!”

it didn't take long for him to grip your hips as he bucked against you, spilling a hot sticky load between your squishy flesh as he used your body to stroke his tip.

after he came down, his forehead on the nape of your neck, he whispered something to you as his legs trembled.

"Can we do that again tomorrow night?"

and of course, you had said yes.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

I NEED MORE ART HUMPING!! i just know he’s into it

he's always sooo needy for you like he'll just take whatever u give him.

you were lying on the bed watching some shitty reality tv show, with art next to you, his arms wrapped around you and head resting on your chest. for the past few minutes you could feel his hands pawing at your soft, plush thighs and how his breath seemed to be getting quicker- and his dick getting harder- obviously. you decided to ignore it.

until you couldn't. art started palming his dick through his boxers, letting out quiet whimpers all while one of his hands was still on your thigh.

"please, can i eat you out?" he asked, teary eyed.

you looked at him for a moment. poor baby. his face was flushed, shades of pink and red on his cheeks and nose bridge. he looked soo sad about the fact that his head wasn't between your thighs already. his dick was so painfully hard yet he was thinking about eating you out.

"no art, i'm really really tired right now. sorry honey" you softly said to him, turning your head to kiss his forehead as he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

his lip wobbled. "but please, i'm so hard it hurts-"

"i said no, art. if you wanna get off, you can get off by humping your pillow like the good boy i know you are" he visibly melted at the praise as you took the pillow from where his head was resting before and placed it on his lap, pressing down a bit, the feeling of it sending shocks throughout his body.

but he was not pleased with that. "oh c'mon, at least let me hump your thigh, pretty please?"

you smiled. he was so polite about it- but if he wanted to get off he had to listen to you. "no, art. of you ask one more time i won't even let you cum. "

he whined but nodded, getting on top of the pillow and pulled down his boxers, positioning his dick upwards, so that it was touching both the pillow and his abdomen.

he looked so adorable, thrusting into the pillow and letting his cute little moans out. usually, art is loud in bed- but when he's tired he gets more quiet, more whiny.

"fuck" he let out a shaky breath. "hold my hand, please"

and at that, your heart melted. you just wanted to hold him and kiss his cute, pink and angry tip better:(

but like you said before, you really were tired. so you held his hand as you watched him fuck himself into a pillow.

not long after, his legs started shaking and his moans got louder, he was gonna cum. but poor baby didn't wanna cum all over his pillow, so he had to ask you nicely-

"please, can i cum on your tummy?"

you couldn't not give in at that. his tone was so sweet, he seemed actually desperate for it. and he genuinely was desperate for it. it felt like if you didn't say yes, he would just die on the spot.

so you agreed. "but only if you clean up after yourself." you added, pulling up your shirt for him. and with a few final strokes, art came all over your tummy, cum already starting to run down your waist. he came so fucking much, only from you letting him hump a pillow.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Like A Drug 「 Part 1」

━━━━━━━━━━⊱♡♡⊰━━━━━━━━━━

𑁍 pairing: armando aretas x reader

𑁍 warning: strong language, use of y/n

𑁍 author’s note: this is just part 1 so basically just introductory, nothing too crazy,

The door to Dorn’s Lakehouse starts banging. Through the door, Marcus is heard, saying “Open the damn door!” I look towards Dorn, who’s already reached the door and is lightly leaning on it. He cracks the door open and Mike and Marcus come bursting in.

“It’s just not a great time for me right now, guys.” Dorn says, trying to cover up for the fact that Kelly is upstairs.

“It’s not a great time for us either,” Mike says,

“Ok let’s reconvene in like an hour or so-” Dorn is cut off by Kelly coming down the stairs. “Babe, we’re out of body wash- WHAT THE HELL…” she says, covering herself up in her satin blue robe. “We found you guys,” she says, relieved.

“We’re in a relationship, ok?” Dorn says not being able to lie. “Sneaking around has been destroying me, it started about a couple months ago. It will not affect our professional lives.”

“Por fin,” I mutter, being the only one to have known about the two of them.

Just then, Armando bursts into the house and Kelly pulls her gun. “Woah, woah, Kelly,” Mike says, standing between the two of them. “This is my son, Armando.” Mike attempts to explain to Kelly“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” I notice how Kelly doesn’t seem like she’s going to change her mind so i get from the couch to see if I can do anything about that. “Hey Mike, would you give us a second?” I say grabbing Kelly and bringing her over while Mike does the same with Armando.

We come back together as I say “She’s fine,” Marcus speaks up, “She don’t look fine.” “I’m fine,” Kelly says while looking down at the floor. “You’re fine,” Armando says to me, while opening Dorn’s fridge and grabbing a beer. Dorn, Kelly, and Mike all make some sort of face at that comment with Mike telling him to knock it off. I brush off the slick comment, not thinking too much into it.

We begin to gather all the files and photographs for Armando to attempt to find the guy who was responsible for all the shit that was going down. Hours pass by with no luck until Armando finds a picture and puts it in Dorn’s scanner. “Hey, do I come into your house and teach you how to make cocaine?” Armando doesn’t pay him any mind before saying “Blow it up,” and points at the screen. A couple seconds go by before Armando pauses and nods his head. “It’s him.”

━━━━━━━━━━⊱♡♡⊰━━━━━━━━━━

@believeinthefireflies95 @yeahnohoneybye @onlysarang

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Armando Aretas Boyfriend Concept

This man is a complete SOFTIE in private. Love language is physical affection and you can't tell me otherwise. He craves the intimacy.

Follows you EVERYWHERE

Your protector, provider and lover

Would take a bullet for you

The love confession would be so random because he couldn't hold his feelings in anymore. Like the two of you locked in an elevator on a mission and he blurts out "No puedo dejar de pensar en ti" (I cant stop thinking about you)

PDA is not his favorite, but he makes it known that you are his.

A jealous jealous baby. A man even LOOKS at you too long and he's ready to put them 6ft under

Biggest grump to everyone but you.

Surprises you with late night adventures through the city

Tries his best to plan dates and learn your love languages as he's trying not to be aggressive.

Nicknames? ALL OF THEM. Amor, Mi Corazon, Carina, Mi Vida, Hermosa etc

The sex? He worships you till you beg him to stop, but leans into a Dom vibe from time to time. Something about you being submissive and giving him absolute control drives him wild.

Teaches you Spanish if you don't already know

Teaches you how to fight in case he's not around

Guilty pleasure: Taking baths together and being the little spoon. He lays his head on your chest and falls asleep instantly

Feels at peace with you

[pollutionisallaroundme]

armando is definitely the type with nothing to hide as well and it’s sooooooo attractive

like he’ll give you the passwords to everything in his phone even though you told him you don’t really care too much about what’s in his phone and you trust him

but once in a while you’ll ask to use his phone for something random and because he has nothing to hide he’ll literally just hand it to you no problem

“Babe, hand me your phone right quick I think my edges are lifting.”

“Here,” He handed his phone over to you with no cares in the world, continuing what he was doing before you’d asked him to use it.

“This damn gel, not buying this shit no more.” You frustratingly stated fixing your edges in the phone camera, Armando looking over at you from where he was sitting.

“Mama you look gorgeous, as always.” He admired you, staring at your face, making you flustered on the inside.

“Thank you baby.” You smiled.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Sympin’ Ain’t Easy

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: richarlison x singer!reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synposis: they say getting your girlfriend’s name tattooed on you is a bad omen. richarlison thinks not.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: brief mention of blood? tattoos.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: i love his nose. i used google translate.

The rhythmic beat that pulsed from the loudspeakers overhead cooled Richarlison.

He lay on his stomach, his chin pressed against the head of the massage table. His jaw sat clenched, a line appearing between his brows as they drew together. His lips set into a hard line, and his nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath.

His back throbbed and pulsated. A pricking sensation shot down his spine as a thin needle pierced against his flesh.

In perfect calligraphy, her name stood bold and tall against his brown skin. The letters that formed her, entangled with each other and blended flawlessly.

A concoction of blood and ink stained his skin before a gloved hand wiped it away.

Bopping his head to the beat pounding from the overhead speakers, Richarlison lay stiffly. The only body part that moved, apart from his head, was his thumb as it smoothed across the screen of his phone.

Occasionally he would pass a smile to the artist attending his back or throw out a quick remark to a friend before returning his attention to his phone.

A couple of hours had passed with Richarlison now upright and sore, his two legs straddling either side of the massage table. He hunched over slightly as the tattoo artist wiped over his fresh piece, flinching at the pinching sensation that flickered across his skin.

Relieved and fatigued, Richarlison kept a careful gaze on his back through the reflection of a mirror. He smiled tiredly and craned his head, skimming his eyes across each letter now permanently marked across his skin.

“(name)…” He breathed softly. He could practically hear her yelling at the top of her lungs, scolding him for being so careless.

She took pride in the art marked across his skin, her gentle fingertips often finding themselves across his figure tracing his artwork, caressing them with such care and attention it lulled him to slumber.

She respected, and appreciated the choices he made to colour his body— encouraged him mostly. However, she forbade the idea of brandishing.

“It’s a bad omen.” She would often say. “It’ll destroy our relationship.”

Richarlison didn’t believe that to be true, it was her fear talkin’.

Her fear— that one day they’d break apart and he’d be left scorned and scarred with the remnants of their relationship permanently blemished on his skin.

She loved him and he loved her; their love was a perfect brew of his bold passion and her unconditional tenderness.

Studying the tattoo closely, Richarlison affirmed to himself. I’ll prove her wrong.

Turning away from the mirror, Richarlison paddd through his contacts on his phone and pressed her name, ringing her through FaceTime.

His phone vibrated and sang for a while before (name) picked up. She held her phone on her lap, her camera angled upwards at her chin.

She was seated on what seemed to look like a parlour chair, her upper half hidden beneath a robe whilst her makeup artist lightly dabbed blush onto her ample cheeks. Her eyes were shut, her shoulders tense as the hair stylist behind her fiddled with her hair.

“Meu amor!” Lifting her phone from her lap, (name) held it up to her line of sight, muttering a “yeah”. Slowly, she opened her eyes and steadied her gaze onto her phone.

Richarlison stood up tall, his arms tucked by his sides— his phone held by a friend. “Look! You see!”

“Agh!” With wide eyes and a slack jaw, (name) gaped. She traced her eyes over her boyfriend’s back and shrieked, which garnered the interest of her glam team who fixed their attention towards her phone. “What did you do?!”

richarlison

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richarlison eu vou te amar para sempre

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username673 this is crazy

username7833 never thought id see the day

username0913 richarlisons a simp now????

username5701 imagine they breakup

username8642 girl hes never leaving her

username1095 what she do to have him doing all that??? teach me sis!!

username3087 exactly! i need a rule book now!

username119 noo!!!!! she’s brainwashing my man!!!

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Heyy, first of all I just wanna say I love your writing and I really really appreciate you writing for black readers 💖 I wanted to request a kylian story about reader meeting his family for the first time, maybe bonding with his mom and Ethan if thats possible 😊 (also are we getting a second part for good luck charm??)

₍⁠₍ ONE OF US ₎⁠₎

PAiRiNG ?! boyfriend!kylian x black!femreader

GENRE ?! romance, fluff (😞)

C/W ?! written in 3rd person since i can't write in 2nd person for shit, she/her pronouns used, kylian whines alot, ethan is too mature for his own good lool, KYLIAN ISN'T DRIVING !!!

A/N ?! i luvvvv this request :) im glad you appreciate my works, it means a lot to me since i really want to make my black readers feel included <3

tried to make it not too fluffy (😞) but im sorry if i failed. part 2 of 'good luck charm' will be the next fic released after this so stay tuned for that (hopefully before the end of this week). anyways, hope i did ur request justice, anon 🖤

~°~

one and a half hours on road, and the ending of the everlasting queue of cars and headlights seemed out of sight. a traffic light suspended from the sky, like a descending black orb, and [y/n] tilted her head as she leaned forward to observe it. sighed, resting back as the lowness of her car's hood rendered her efforts futile, and instead, relied on the agonising snail-speed of the moving cars ahead.

"traffic's heavy today."

kylian responded with a quiet hum, tapping her thigh to the beat of the playing song, "yeah, bad day to go out but my mum's expecting you."

fear hovered just beneath her skin and kylian noticed the tremble of her hands. they gripped the steering wheel, as if to strangle it dead, sure that the grooves of the grips had indented into her palms. he gave a reassuring squeeze to her leg, then stretched forward to peck her cheek.

"you'll be alright, they'll love you."

her eyebrows remained crinkled, "are you sure?"

kylian gave an affirmative nod, "of course— honestly they'll love anybody who isn't me."

she knew his words were a tad bit hyperbolic, but it made her laugh anyways.

"really?"

"yeah. their dear kylian can be a handful sometimes."

[y/n] was quick to nod at that, "you're not wrong there."

in any other instance, kylian would find fault in her words and be haste to correct her, whining. yet, he watched how the knots of her fingers grew loose and how her shoulders untensed and settled with ease, and bit his tongue.

silence dallied in the car, save kylian's hums of every song that cried from the radio. the congestion had lightened and they both rolled forward a couple of feet per minute.

"quick warning though, ethan is most likely to drag you to play fifa with him. don't be scared to say no," kylian rolled his eyes after; she found their bond way too endearing and wholesome for her heart to take.

"says that he needs to add to his fifa kill count, and literally verses anybody he can," he proceeded. [y/n] would think he meant his irritation if she didn't peak the slight grin that ghosted his lips. he could never dislike the boy, of course.

"i see where he gets his competitiveness from," she joked, surging the car forward as the light turned green. the motorway is long left behind, and the distant city blended and smothered into the view before them.

"are you one of his kill counts?"

kylian kissed his teeth, and it triggered a hearty laugh from the girl beside him, "that's not even the point. i've demanded rematches and he still refuses to."

"babe, i think it's a sign that you should suck it up and accept that he's better than you at fifa."

"in your dreams," arms were crossed and he ignored her grin, looking out the window, "i'm forcing him to play today."

the gps ordered her to take a left, and she swiftly took the sharp corner, bustling streets dwindling behind them as they entered a quieter road.

"i will be supporting you— although i can't guarantee that i will for all of the games you play."

"so- what? you'll be rooting for ethan?" his words left his mouth as if they were bitter and salty on his tongue.

"mhm."

she only said that to rile up the man, finding humour in his disdain. in kylian's eyes, [y/n] was his, and only his, hype woman.

"traitor."

"love you too."

they fell into tranquil muteness as the sight of kylian's childhood house is unveiled by the skyscraping evergreen trees that seemed to be a habitual plant around this side of paris. it's not entirely big, but large enough that, from the outside, it was obvious that it situated two floors. gated and neatly groomed grass carpeted the front lawn, bright green and dotted with white. daisies, she predicted.

the car undulated to a halt, and [y/n] released a sigh.

"we're here... finally."

kylian shifted in his seat, facing his girlfriend, "yeah, we are." reached to scoop her hands in his, "and as i said, you have nothing to be scared about. i love you, hm? even if they don't like you, which i highly doubt will happen, it won't change a thing, okay?"

nodded and tilted forward to kiss her boyfriend. kylian's hand rested gently upon her cheek as he deepened it, lips tenderly harsh as he attempted to portray his words into action, too. a ping from his phone caused them to break contact, turning it on as he read the text from the notification bar.

mama ❤️ i see a car outside. stopping hogging the poor girl and come inside, it's too hot.

"who is it?" [y/n] asked.

kylian showed her the text and she softly chuckled as she read it, "you heard her. let's go."

they depart, not before kylian gave her hand a reassuring peck, and they amble to the front door.

kylian looked at her, finger at the ready to poke the doorbell, "ready?"

"i think so, yeah."

+_-

greeted with a warm, encompassing hug, [y/n] was pulled inside, her boyfriend complaining behind her as he was left behind.

"okay, forget your own son then," he gruntled, closing the door as the warm air from outside began to mesh with the cold one inside.

fayza, his mother, kissed her teeth. undeniably kylian's mother.

"as if i don't see you more than i want to."

an arm circled [y/n]'s waist, head tucking itself into her neck as lips muttered complaints into her skin. she patted his hand in faux sympathy.

they're escorted to the back garden, filled to them brim with kids no taller than her waist, and chattering adults. it was welcoming chaos, one that made her feel settled and content because everyone was happy, doing they're own thing as they gathered as one family.

and now, she was to be one of them.

broken out of her reverie, fayza's voice cut through the cacophony, and all heads turned toward their direction.

"everyone, meet [y/n], kylian's girlfriend. make her feel comfortable and at home for me," her face was illuminated with a smile.

a little voice, she presumed was of one of kylian's nieces, sounded from just beside them.

"she's very pretty!"

[y/n]'s heart swelled, and she untangled herself from her boyfriend's hold, crouching down in front of the infant, "thank you, love. what's your name?"

she reponded, full of eagerness, "marie!"

[y/n] chuckled, "you have a very pretty name, don't you?"

the toddler nodded, as she signalled for [y/n] to pick her up. arms wrapped around the small girl securely, she stood up, swirling the girl around as she giggled loudly, then began to ask her questions about her and kylian's relationship. her curiosity was overwhelmingly adorable and [y/n] could feel her face muscles ache at the undying smile.

kylian watched from the doorframe, eyes drenched in obvious adoration as his girlfriend began to go around, socialising with the rest of his family. his sister is quick to welcome her with a hug and a kiss to the cheek, ruffling the curls of her daughter in [y/n]'s arms. if he hadn't decided to grow old with the girl, he certainly did now, for the sight of his most beloveds intertwining with so little difficulty made him feel full with joy.

+_-

the little girl in her arms began to grow restless, and with the sweltering heat beating upon her skin, [y/n] unleashed the hyperactive kid, submerging back into the air conditioned space inside. she went to look for kylian, stopping at the door of the living room (overly spacious, but embossed with pictures and trophies, made it feel smaller and more homely than expected) as she noticed two boys frantically clicking button on a controller, tv glowing with running, animated people in a sea of green. decided to not disturb and leave kylian to (hopefully) reign victorious this time round.

[y/n] found herself exploring the corridors of the house, gazing into framed photos hung upon the walls. a family so deeply knitted that not one was left out, and she couldn't help the thought of her face one day being displayed with pride, maybe with kylian beside her, or maybe just her, as she alone was enough to be one of them.

she ventured into the kitchen absentmindedly, meeting fayza stirring into a steam pot, napkin draped over her shoulder.

pushed all her nerves aside as she saw an opportunity to bond with her mother-in-law, "is there anything i can help with, ma'am?"

she was quick to spin around, a smile blooming as she recognised her voice, "you want to help?" [y/n]'s gesture was thoroughly appreciated, but the question left fayza's throat apprehensively.

"yes," then a laugh, accompanied by a permanent smile, "kylian is playing fifa with ethan so i really have nothing to do."

the older woman grunted knowingly, shuffling through the kitchen as [y/n] shadowed her.

"that's all the do when he comes here," a freckled hand is waved, aloof, "don't mind them."

she slid a bowl of freshly washed vegetables, dappled with droplets of water, "dice these for me, dear."

[y/n] acquiesced promptly, and the kitchen swiftly subsided into a warm silence. she chopped them with such experienced velocity, and fayza showed her an approving smile, althought she was too focused to notice.

"you know what you're doing."

the girl turned to the woman next to her, grinning, "have to be, or kylian would be a lost cause."

the guffaw that followed was thick with expectance and genuine hilarity, "you're very funny, looking after that boy isn't an easy task."

"you can definitely tell me about it," she fell silent as she focused on cutting off the butt of the onion, "but i love him, and forever will."

fayza felt her skin buzz with exhilaration and couldn't fight the urge to hug the lady helping her.

"you're such a lovely girl, perfect for my kylian," broke the hug and scanned the face of the girl that had her son immeasurably in love, "stand by him, okay? people out there are harsh, and, yes, i know that he's a strong boy, but with you beside him, he'll be stronger."

[y/n] exhaled, leaning against the counter as fayza started to fry the vegetables that she had chopped, "i won't lie to you and say it's easy because it's not," a hand rubbed down her face, "i don't get why people are so... brutal. it's like the only focus on his negatives when they lose, but praise him when they win, and i see that it gets to him a lot."

fayza knew what they, as a family, holding the name mbappé, just like the one that etched the back of france's golden boy, were getting themselves into. a life no longer hidden, everything was out and vulnerable for everyone to see, and if each blink and breath wasn't scrutinized by 'fans' (as they liked to call themselves, but tend to act otherwise) then something wasn't right.

"that's just how the world is, dear. they're backstabbers, running wild with no inch of humanity left in them. but you have to remain sturdy, be it alone or with the support of other people. and for kylian's case, he has us."

us. [y/n]'s skin crawled with thrill.

"you're part of the family, now, [y/n]," fayza smiled, eyes lined with aged wrinkles, deepened with the peaks and troughs of the past, and still to, with what was yet to come, "one of us."

she smiled, heart clashing with her ribs, "thank you, fayza. it really means a lot."

she returned it, arms agape, "it's nothing, dear. now, come here!"

[y/n] entered her arm, laughing loudly as her mother-in-law kissed her forehead, "and remember, if kylian ever does anything wrong, tell me, and i'll deal with him."

"i definitely will, ma'am."

she was given a disapproving look in return, "ma'am? please, call me fayza, or mum, which i prefer." winked and laughed.

however, their moment was cut short as shouts outside the door began to crescendo.

"—not only are you running away but your running to your girlfriend who i didn't even know was here!"

the kitchen is penetrated by the fury of two boys, of which their ages were miles apart but would think were near by how they acted, kylian's face contorted into a frown, "it would be a curse to introduce her to you, ethan."

the teenage boy gasped, kicking his brother, "take that back!"

"over my dead body!"

ethan scowled back, looking at her, before any trace of his negative expression seemed to disappear into thin air, "[y/n]! oh my days, you're prettier in real life!"

she grinned sheepishly, "thank you, ethan."

kylian, however, found no amusement in his words, hiding his girlfriend behind him, "oh please stop that crap. get yourself your own girlfriend!"

"and you just love hating! i bet your girlfriend is better than you at fifa."

"take. that. back."

"let's see it," he walked towards her, putting on the best puppy eyes he could muster, grabbing and tugging her arm, "please, [y/n]? play fifa with me?"

kylian glared at him, slapping his hand away.

"don't touch her!"

she turned to look at fayza, who nudged her head, "don't worry about it, go and take those hooligans with you."

+_-

10 minutes later, ethan was one goal down, with [y/n] on a aggregate score of 3.

"you're good at this— like good good. better than kylian."

to ethan's satisfaction, his older brother had been summoned by his mother to help her, saying he 'needed to use that football strength to good use'.

"how the hell did he even get a girlfriend like you? way too good for him, in my humblest opinion." she knew his question was far from ill-mannered, and didn't take it to heart. ethan tend to say whatever came to his mind at that moment.

"he definitely tried his hardest to ask me out," [y/n] stated, chuckling at the ever-vivid memory of his unrelenting advances.

"he's never one to give up, is he?"

she shook her head, "absolutely not. gave him my number for professional use only, and he saw the opportunity to flirt with me."

ethan visibly cringed at the fact, "that's embarassing."

"it was cute," she shrugged, "until it actually started to work and it all went downhill- or rather uphill- from there."

ethan's irises glimmered as he attempted a shot, but took in a sharp breath as he missed.

"all i can say is, he loves really hard. hasn't loved anyone as much as you, but from what i hear from him about you, he's deeply infatuated. i think it's scary, at this point," paused to regain his bearings as the ball was within [y/n]'s possession once again, "but, as much as i make fun of him, he's a good person. sometimes too good for his own sake."

he spoke truth. truth that hurt, because kylian's kindness was constantly taken for weakness, but he always, without fail, moved past it without another thought wasted.

"and he hides how much it affects him."

"exactly," ethan responded immediately, then laughed, "you know him just as much, or even more than me."

[y/n] grinned, "happens when you spend everyday with the boy. he's more readable than he thinks."

"or maybe you adore him so much that you just... care."

silence, then, "or maybe that."

it was only the noise of intense clicking and frustrated sighs that filled the room for a few minutes. it was a relaxed quietude, one that none saw the need to disrupt, but ethan wanted to express how grateful he was for [y/n]'s presence in his brother's life. it was comforting to know that he had someone, that wasn't a platonic friend, to confide in and find solitude in.

"you two were definitely meant to be."

"you think?"

"yeah," he looked at her, taking a hand off of the controller to punch her lightly in her arm, "i see you becoming [y/n] mbappé, one day."

"really?" her voice was incredulous, "you see me being one of you lot?"

"come on [y/n]," ethan rolled his eyes affectionately, "you're already one of us."

[pollutionisallaroundme]

𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲

     𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵

𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: i wrote this mad long ago and left it. went back to read it and i was like THIS IS SOOOO CUTE so i’m gonna post it cause richarlison needs more fics. she’s Black! 

     There was a special kind of aloneness that accompanied learning a language in a land that was, in the same way, exceptionally foreign. 

Though, Richarlison supposed that he was truthfully the foreign one. There were jokes he wanted to make. Songs he wanted to reference. Food he wanted to share with someone who knew his old life just as well as he did. Instead, he was alone. Everyone around him spoke very quickly to each other, laughing as another apparent joke was made while he struggled to decipher what they were even talking about, to begin with. When they were forced to address him they would speak slowly. He would simply nod after their third time explaining something to him, finding that they were growing annoyed with him. When they would walk off he would be left to sift through the conversation he’d just had to figure out what was being asked of him. 

He was well aware that the people around him did not know how quick-witted he was in his native language. They only knew him as their new teammate who took a minute to think before speaking, carefully deliberating over his every word. Those that lacked patience would not address him some days. He understood them. Still, he grew quieter as the days passed, not wanting to speak until he had mastered the language. Until he could make jokes quickly. Laugh quickly. Think quickly.

Keep reading

[pollutionisallaroundme]

Can i request richarlison where he spoils her so much xx🫠

in thought of you

pairing: richarlison x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where richarlison spoils the reader in more ways than one

Richarlison has always been a giving person. It was something in his nature, in his person, something naturally of custom to him. And he enjoyed it—the giving part of things—because he knew he wouldn't be letting go of it any time soon seeing as he loved it so much. He associated giving with two kinds of people: those in need and those he loved the most. And Y/N, his partner, was just one of those people he loved the most.

And this part of Richarlison was most prominent in their relationship, towards Y/N, appearing in a few ways.

At first it came through as rather materialistic. He had the money, the resources and everything else one needed, why would he not cash out on her? He bought her the world: they spent their time searching for her choice of clothes, he was open yet careful when picking out her jewellery, so much so that she was soon drowning in luxury and prestige.

"They reminded me of you," he would say, every time he brought back the finest necklace, every time the two passed by an item and Richarlison knew he had to get it for his partner, every time his mom spoke highly about a certain item of clothing or jewellery. And he would say it all with the kindest smile one would ever see.

And Y/N would return the smile and say, "Thank you," because she was grateful. For how he chose to spend on her, for how he always had her in mind even when he went out shopping for himself. For how he let her feel herself in such glamorous wear, for his efforts to make her happy. For that, she was grateful. But it became too much for her; too flashy and far out of her comfort zone sometimes, so he had to switch it up.

Then there came the flowers; the gift offering simple presence and kindness. Richarlison gave them to Y/N whenever he could, the ones his mom kept in her assorted garden or the ones he always noticed walking past the local florist. Whenever they went out and he saw a flower, laying perfect and pretty, he would pick it up and personally hand it to Y/N. When he knew he would be gone for a few days for a match, he would have flowers, far delicate and dressed, delivered to their place.

"These reminded me of you," he would say or message, every time he brought back a bouquet or two home, every time he picked up that random flower off the side of the street, every time he had her favourite flowers, in her favourite colour too, delivered home. And he would say it with a smile, one rather favouring his nerves, considering that offering flowers wasn't his initial way of giving.

And she would say, "Thank you," nonetheless. She always loved the flowers, personally. For their pretty appearance, for their delightful smell, and for how Richarlison associated them with her. For how determined he was to get a flower even if it was really out of reach; he always made the effort for her, regardless of the challenge that came with it. She remained grateful for his will to give. But, soon enough, it became too much for both of them.

Not enough room in the house to place the flowers, not enough space in the garden to plant them. Not enough space in the kitchen or rooms to place them, bringing in too many insects and causing her allergies to act up. This one, Richarlison was reluctant to switch up—flowers grew to be his favourite item to give his partner. But for their best interests, he chose to switch it up.

Finally, there was the quality time. Now this one, when he could, Richarlison spoilt her with a lot of this and so much more. The mornings spent in bed, the afternoons cleaning the house together with spirits and music high. The evenings playing football in the backyard for the thrill and fun of it all, the days he would wait on her until she came back from a late night out.

And Y/N would say, "Thank you." In fact, she had more to present than just a thank you (even though Richarlison thought it was more than enough). She would hug him, kiss him and do everything she had to offer him (how could she not when he always managed to give her the world)? For the times he pulled her back into bed, for the times when they were belting song lyrics on their off days. For the times he waited up for her after a night out, for the times he chose to hang out with her over his friends. And there was no criticism to any of it; in simple, she was grateful.

In her eyes, in all ways was Richarlison spoiling her, gifting her, giving to her. Through the materials, through the flowers, through the quality time. And she loved them, she appreciated it all equally. Because whether he chose to spoil her in one way or another, at the end of the day, they reminded me of you, these reminded me of you, this reminded me of you—he did everything in thought of her, and that was enough for Y/N to be reassured in their relationship.

[pollutionisallaroundme]

I Can’t Lose When I’m With You

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: there’s something joyous about the sounds of laughter.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. fluff

.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: this took me awhile to write. this isn’t my best works but ive been stuck with writers block. used google translate for the french. didn't proofread.

“Ćherie!” Kylian’s deep, resonant voice echoed through the dimly lit hallway of his Parisian home as the front door creaked open, and the scent of popcorn and a vanilla line candle filled his nose.

“Ćherie!” He yelled again, a hand pushed up against the hallway wall as he dug his feet out of his shoes. He kicked them aside and jeered his head to stare at the soft glare of light at the end of the hallway.

Dropping his bag at his feet, Kylian followed the light till he stood at the end of the hallway.

On the couch, bundled between a row of pillows and a throw blanket, (name) lay idly, her gaze glued to the blue light emitting from her phone whilst music boomed from her airpods. The tv played on the side of her face, Gossip Girl, a comfort show she watched countless times before.

Slowly, Kylian crept towards (name). He pressed his lips into a line and watched her eyes flutter close, her eyelashes meshing together and springing open with orbs filled with alert.

She stirred, her feet wriggling beneath the throw blanket, and turned her head to Kylian, beaming.

“Kylian,” She mouthed gently, her eyes glancing over his figure. She pulled her airpods from her ears and pressed herself against the couch, her phone tumbling aside. “You’re back.”

“Kiss.” She tilted her head back and puckered her lips as Kylian towered above her. He hung his head, a shadow casting over both their faces, and clasped her face between his hands. He leaned into her, his nose gently bristling against her cheek, and moulded his mouth around her lips.

Kylian savoured the taste of (name’s) strawberry gloss, uttering a strangled moan as he pulled away, leaving a lingering touch on her ample cheek.

He waddled around the couch, his movements slow and sluggish, and eased himself beside (name). Sinking into the cushioned seat, she placed her legs over his lap.

“How was the game?” (name) spared a peep at the television, a flash of black covered the screen indicating the episode had ended. She fixed her gaze on Kylian and smiled warmly at the touch of his hands gently scoring across her legs.

“Good,” He muttered calmly. His digits smoothed down her legs, coddling her ankles, and brushed upwards towards her thighs. He stared at her body with eyes filled with focus and fatigue, his fingers an emblem of his tenderness and care, and batted a gentle look at (name). “...I missed you.”

(name) felt her heart swell and heat flush across her face. She offered a shy grin and threw back words brimmed with solace.

“I missed you too.”

By 9 pm, nightfall had replaced the brisk, autumn evening. The house had fallen into a quiet lull, the tv had shut and faint snores filled the open air. Propped on either side of their sofa, Kylian and (name) slept blissfully– the throw blanket Kylian had once rustled aside draped across their figures and swaddled them like newborns despite the discomforting positions. The couple slept on, stirring at the occasional ding from a phone or beep from the alarm at the front door.

And when morning came, hunger had struck and Kylian had found himself awake. He blinked, baffled and dazed, and slowly slung his head upwards from his shoulder. He wiped a hand across his face, rubbed his tired eyes and shifted, drawing his eyes to the legs dangled across his lap.

He flashed a glance at (name), still content in slumber, and sluggishly dragged his legs inwards. He blinked, knocking his jaw open with a strained yawn and settled back into the couch cushions.

Kylian waded between feelings of fatigue and hunger and peeked a glance at the kitchen just metres away. Imagining a hot plate of eggs, a bagel smothered with cream cheese and a couple of slices of bacon on the side — his belly rumbled at the thought.

He wiped his mouth and carefully lifted himself from the couch, only to be weighed down by (name).

Kylian let out a breath and stared down at his girlfriend, her head hidden beneath her arm and a pillow. He watched her chest rise and deflate in a continuous motion as minute snores whistled from her nostrils.

He smiled, enamoured by the sight and carefully raised his hand. His palm curved around her leg, whisking across her skin delicately, upwards and downwards. He dragged his hand towards her ankle, smoothed the nub and trickled his digits down to her feet.

He curved his hand to the back of her feet and began to wriggle his fingers across her feet.

Kylian was tender at first, his digits barely fluttered against (name’s) feet, which induced the occasional twitch and curl of her toes. His next move was stronger, a rutted attack, as his fingers wormed across her feet in ragged lines, inducing an agitated mewl.

Kylian’s final move was subtle, yet effective. He moved his fingers diligently against her feet and applied pressure on points he had accustomed himself to, sending electric nodes which signified as jolts

across (name’s) body.

She flinched, a groan escaping her tired lips and began to stir, growing more agitated the more Kylian continued his assault before her mewls began to grow higher in pitch.

(name) sprung her eyes open, letting out the loudest giggle and threw back her head. She kicked her feet in an attempt to ward off Kylian’s attack but fell struck in a fit of laughter.

“What are you doing?” She managed a few words between her laughter as teardrops began pooling down her cheeks.

“It tickles!”

“Tes pieds sont si sensibles,” [Your feet are so sensitive,] Kylian mused softly, racing his digits up across her feet once again, tickling her. “I like it.”

“Kylian, wait-”

“Je n'arrête pas.” [I’m not stopping.] He cooed assertively, sending (name) an amused look.

“Kylian!” (name) whined, she wriggled beneath her boyfriend and laughed gleefully with a grin that reached from ear to ear.

“Don’t stop!”

No longer dazed by slumber, (name) found herself engulfed with joy and never-ending laughter as Kylian tickled her feet and laughed alongside her. She was delighted, he was amused. Her delicate laughter soothed him and his mischievous antics felt her panting for breath in their Parisian home that stood cloudless beneath the frisk, bitter early autumn air.