#“Wait you love me” “I always have”

[slvttyplum]

nanami loves you in a sundress, something flowy that highlights every dip and curve on your body and the way it slightly rises up whenever you’re walking or sitting down.

he was never too picky with what you wore, but if he could have his whole closet filled with cute sundresses just for you to wear every day of the week, he would.

this man found every excuse in the book to have you put one on, from picnic dates to regular dates to taking a nice walk on a beach; he didn’t care. one thing he was going to do was convince you to wear one.

“look at this one, honey; it goes well with your complexion; just wear this.”

slowly easing you into wearing the dress, which you always ended up doing because they were so cute, and then the look he had on his face when you finally slipped into it; there was no way you could say no.

the fact that he loved the way you looked in the dress and how you looked like a goddess wearing one, he got stiff from you wearing them, one of the “cons.”

pushing you to wear one just for him to be hard the entire time, palming himself down as he stared at you.

sometimes he couldn’t wait, no matter how hard he tried.

yeah, you looked gorgeous like always, but he would wait for hours, torturing himself as he watched your every move you made in that dress.

he even started touching you without realizing it, putting his hand on your thigh and rambling on about random stuff to distract himself, then slowly sliding his hand up your dress and in between your thighs.

leaning in closer so his voice was down to a whisper, telling you to follow him to the nearest bathroom.

nanami tried to wait until the two of you got home. well, that was when you first started wearing them out, but then he just couldn’t keep the day going in good conscience knowing he was going to die if he didn’t fuck you.

“come with me; i want to make you feel good.”

okay, maybe just maybe he purposely made you wear sundresses because it turned him on. what’s the harm in that? it turned into some great sex then and later.

bending you over the bathroom sink and slowly sliding up your dress, making sure to savor the view and how you looked from the back before sliding your panties to the side.

yeah, this was the consequence of wearing these damn dresses, and no, no, there were no complaints, just inconvenience when nanami didn't want to stop.

"okay, let's go to the car then." this man was desperate as hell because your entrées didn't even come out yet.

the point is, i just know this man loves a good sundress and will bend and fold you over in one.

[moonlightwritingf1]

When Absence Speaks | LN4

🔥 summary ━━━━━━━ After not seeing each other for weeks, Y/N accidentally squirts during sex with Lando. He's so fascinated and turned on by her that he decides he wants to make her squirt again and again.

🔥 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🔥 word count ━━━━━━━ 6k

🔥 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms

Based on this request.

The air in the room was thick with tension, the kind that prickled your skin and made your breath catch in your throat. Y/N paced the living room of her flat, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been over a month since she last saw Lando, and the weight of his absence was almost unbearable. She had tried to distract herself with work and her friends, but nothing could fill the void he left behind.

The sound of the front door unlocking made her freeze. Her breath hitched as the door clicked open, and there he was—Lando Norris, standing in the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and a wicked grin on his face.

“Miss me?” he teased, his voice dripping with that familiar charm that always made her stomach flip.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “Not even a little,” she lied, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

Lando chuckled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He dropped his suitcase and crossed the room in a few long strides, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. His lips were on hers in an instant, hot and demanding, and all thoughts of resistance melted away.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues tangled in a desperate dance. It had been too long since she felt his touch, too long since his hands roamed her body with such possessive urgency. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he stared down at her with dark, hungry eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Every night, I’d lie in bed, imagining what I’d do to you the second I saw you again.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her thighs at his words. “What stopped you from calling?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, tracing a finger along her jawline. “I wanted to make you wait. I wanted you to miss me as much as I missed you.”

She rolled her eyes, but the way her body pressed against his betrayed her true feelings. “You’re such a tease.”

“And you love it,” he countered, his lips brushing against her ear.

He was right, and she hated how easily he could see through her. She didn’t say anything, instead capturing his lips in another searing kiss. Her hands roamed his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt. She couldn’t wait to have him inside her, to feel that familiar stretch as he filled her completely.

Lando’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head in one swift motion. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin as his fingers deftly unhooked her bra. She gasped as his mouth closed over one of her nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

“Lando…” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He pulled away, his eyes locking with hers as he undid the button on her jeans. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” he admitted, his voice rough with desire. “About how you’d feel around me, how you’d moan my name.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as he stripped her of her jeans and panties, leaving her completely bare before him. His gaze roamed over her body, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the intensity in his eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his hands moving to the waistband of his own jeans.

She watched as he kicked off his shoes and removed the rest of his clothes, her eyes widening at the sight of his arousal. He was already hard, his length straining against his stomach. She licked her lips, the heat between her thighs growing almost unbearable.

Lando stepped closer, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed her back against the wall. He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. “I need you,” he murmured, his voice thick with need.

“Then take me,” she breathed, her heart racing in anticipation.

He didn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. He paused, his eyes locking with hers. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire. “Please, Lando.”

He thrust into her with a force that made her gasp, the air rushing out of her lungs as if he’d punched it from her chest. Her back arched instinctively, her body seeking more of him, more of the heat and pressure that only he could give. His length stretched her in ways that bordered on overwhelming, every inch of him filling her completely, pushing against walls that had been empty for far too long. She felt him everywhere—her core, her thighs, the way her pulse throbbed in time with his movements.

Her nails raked down his shoulders, leaving faint red trails in their wake, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he groaned, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through her as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation was electric, a jolt that shot straight to her spine, making her toes curl and her breath hitch. Her body clenched around him, desperate to keep him there, to feel every ridge and vein of him as he moved.

“Fuck,” she choked out, her voice breaking on the word. It wasn’t just relief—it was hunger, a deep, aching need that had been building for weeks. Every thrust sent sparks skittering across her skin, lighting up parts of her she hadn’t realized were dormant. Her hips rocked against his, meeting him stroke for stroke, each one deeper, harder, more consuming than the last.

His hands gripped her hips tighter, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her closer, impossibly closer. “You feel so good,” he growled, his voice rough, almost feral. “So fucking tight.”

She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think beyond the way he filled her, the way his body moved against hers with a rhythm that was both familiar and new. Her moans spilled out unchecked, raw and unfiltered, each one a testament to how much she’d missed this, missed him. Her legs tightened around his waist, locking him in place as if she could fuse them together, making this moment last forever.

The room was alive with the sounds of their bodies colliding, the slick slide of skin on skin, the ragged breaths that mingled in the space between them. Every movement was deliberate, calculated to drive her higher, to push her closer to the edge. 

“God, I missed this,” he growled, his voice rough, the words brushing against her ear like a promise.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Her hips rocked against him instinctively, searching for that familiar rhythm, that perfect friction. The weight of him, the heat of him, the way he filled her so completely—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Her thighs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, and he groaned, low and guttural.

“You feel... fuck, you feel incredible,” he panted, his breath hot against her neck. His hands slipped under her thighs, shifting her slightly, adjusting the angle, and the tip of him brushed against something that made her eyes roll back.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice breaking as sensation surged through her like a storm. “Please, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His hips moved with a rhythm that was both punishing and tender, each thrust driving her higher, closer to that edge she was desperate to fall over. The sweat-slicked heat of their bodies pressed together, the slap of skin against skin, the way he groaned her name—it was too much, and not nearly enough.

She clutched at him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs wrapped so tightly around him she might’ve left bruises. But he didn’t care. If anything, the way she clung to him only spurred him on, his pace growing more frantic, his grip firmer.

“You’re mine,” he muttered, his lips finding hers in a messy, desperate kiss. “All mine.”

Y/N’s head fell back against the wall, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into her with relentless force. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, and she couldn’t help the moans that escaped her lips.

“I missed this,” she gasped, her legs tightening around him. “I missed you.”

Lando’s lips crashed against hers, his kiss hot and possessive. “I missed you too,” he murmured against her lips. “So fucking much.”

Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. Y/N’s pussy clenched around Lando’s cock, her walls stretching to accommodate his thickness, pulsing with every inch he pushed into her. She gasped as he filled her completely, the familiar stretch igniting a fire in her core she had missed for far too long. He groaned, the sensation of her tight wet heat enveloping him making his knees weak. “You feel fucking incredible,” he rasped, his voice strained as he watched her body take him completely.

She could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he moved inside her, the sensation overwhelming. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper, desperate for more. “I missed this so fucking much,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “I missed you filling me, stretching me out, making me feel so full.”

Lando’s hands roamed her body, gripping her hips firmly as he thrust into her harder, faster, eager to hear more of her desperate cries. His hands found her breasts, cupping them tightly, thumbs brushing over her nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers until she arched into his touch. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he growled, his breath hot against her ear. “How much I’ve missed feeling you wrapped around me.”

Her gasps turned into cries, her nails raking down his back as their bodies moved frantically, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. “Lando, I need more,” she begged, her pussy clenching around him.

“Tell me how much you’ve missed me,” he demanded, his hands sliding down to her hips, lifting her higher as thrusts came even faster, deeper.

“Every damn night, every day,” she cried. Her mind was unraveling.

Lando reeled further. “What about it? Tell me everything.”

“I’d touch myself thinking about you,” she confessed, making Lando grunt as he tortured her swollen ring with thumb and pinky tightening even further. “Thinking about how you feel inside me, how you stretch me, how you make me feel so fucking full.”

“Fuck, me too,” he admitted, and she arched an eyebrow, her cheeks flushed. “I’d jerk myself through these endless nights, imagining this, imagining how tight and warm you’d feel wrapped around me. Imagining how you moan when I press myself into you until there’s nothing more to give.”

Their breathing grew ragged, their movements rougher, messier, the room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping flesh, her moans, his grunts. “I’m close,” she gasped, her nails digging into his skin.

“So, what are you waiting for?” he teased, his voice ragged and breathless. His cock throbbed inside her, the thick vein along its length pressing against that perfect, sensitive spot deep within her. “Come for me.”

The words were a command, a challenge, and she felt her body respond instantly. Her walls clenched around him, her hips bucking as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. She could feel it—the edge of release, so close, so tantalizingly close.

“Lando,” she gasped, her nails digging into his back. “I’m... I’m going to—”

“Do it,” he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Let go. I want to feel you come undone.”

Her body tensed, every muscle coiled tight as Lando’s thrusts grew harder, faster, more desperate. The pressure inside her built to a breaking point, a white-hot heat that threatened to consume her entirely. She could feel it—the edge of something she’d never experienced before, something primal and uncontrollable.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. “I think… I think something’s happening.”

He didn’t slow down, his hips slamming into hers with a force that made her cry out. “Let it happen,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to see you fall apart.”

And then it hit her—a wave of pleasure so intense it stole her breath. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls pulsing in rapid, uncontrollable spasms. She felt it before she saw it, the sudden rush of warmth as her body betrayed her, gushing streams of liquid that soaked them both.

“Fuck!” Lando’s eyes widened in shock as her pussy pushed him out, his cock slipping free just as the first wave hit. He stared down at her, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “Did you just…?”

She couldn’t answer, her body still convulsing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her legs, once tightly wrapped around him, now hung limply, barely able to hold on. Her whole body felt like it was collapsing, but Lando’s arms were there, strong and steady, holding her against the wall.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice filled with wonder. “You squirted.”

She blinked up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “I… I didn’t know I could do that.”

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Neither did I. But fuck, that was hot.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through her at his words. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so completely seen. And in that moment, she knew there was no one else she’d rather share this with than him.

Lando tightens his hold on Y/N. 

“You’re not going anywhere, princess. Not until I make you scream my name again.” 

Y/N’s body shuddered at his words, her legs still trembling from the intensity of her first orgasm. The sensation of his skin against hers, the way he looked at her with pure hunger, made her heart race. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs again, her body already responding to his every touch

Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding as she clings to him, her wetness still lingering on her thighs. With a determined grip, he carefully lifts her off the wall, his strong arms cradling her as he carries her toward the bedroom. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips brushing against his jawline as she whispered, “You’re insatiable, Lando.” He chuckled, the low, throaty sound sending a shiver down her spine. “When it comes to you? Absolutely.”

He laid her gently on the bed, her back sinking into the soft mattress. Lando stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over her naked form with a predatory gleam. She felt exposed, vulnerable, yet completely safe in his presence. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs as he leaned in closer. His breath was warm against her sensitive skin, his lips hovering just above her core.

“I’m going to make you cum again,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise. “And again. And again. Until you forget your own name.” his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands glide up her thighs, his touch firm yet tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of her. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Y/N’s breath hitches as his fingers brush against her sensitive core, her body instinctively arching toward him. She’s still reeling from the intensity of their first encounter, the way he made her lose control completely. And now, he’s looking at her with that same determination, that same fire in his eyes.

“Lando…” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

“Shh,” he interrupts softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her inner thigh. His lips are warm, his breath hot against her skin. “Let me take care of you.”

Her stomach flutters at his words, her body already responding to his touch. He places a trail of kisses along her thigh, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. When he finally reaches her center, her breath catches in her throat, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.

His tongue flicks against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her entire body. She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed as he begins to lick her with a slow, teasing rhythm. His hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he explores her with an expertise that makes her head spin.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against her, his voice muffled but filled with admiration. He licks her again, his tongue swirling around her clit in a way that makes her moan loudly, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer.

Her entire body is on fire, her pleasure building with every flick of his tongue. She feels herself getting closer, her thighs trembling around his head as he continues to lavish her with attention. Just as she’s about to tip over the edge, he adds two fingers inside her, curling them in that perfect spot that makes her cry out.

“Oh God,” she gasps, her back arching off the bed as she feels the familiar rush of pleasure surging through her. Her body tightens around his fingers, her orgasm crashing over her in waves as she squirts again, her release soaking his hand and the bed beneath her.

Lando doesn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible. Her moans grow louder, her body writhing beneath him as he pushes her to new heights of ecstasy. When he finally pulls away, her body collapses onto the bed, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

He looks up at her, his lips glistening, his eyes filled with desire. “That’s two,” he says, his voice smug but filled with admiration. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words, her body still tingling from the intensity of her orgasm. She’s never felt so alive, so consumed by pleasure. And yet, the look in his eyes tells her he’s just getting started.

Before she can respond, he climbs up her body, his lips capturing hers in a deep, passionate kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue, the sensation sending a fresh wave of desire through her. Her hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as she kisses him back with equal fervor.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with hers. “I’m going to make you cum at least four times tonight,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “I want to break your record. I want to make you perfectly mine.”

Her breath catches at his words, her body already responding to the promise in his voice. She doesn’t know if she can handle more, but the look in his eyes tells her she doesn’t have a choice. And honestly, she doesn’t want one.

Lando kisses her again, his hands roaming her body as he positions himself between her legs. She feels the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance, and instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and filled with anticipation.

She nods, her eyes never leaving his. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling with desire.

He thrusts into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasps, her nails digging into his back as he begins to move, his pace slow and deliberate. His eyes never leave hers, the connection between them palpable as he takes control of her body once again.

Her pleasure builds with every thrust, her moans filling the room as he brings her closer to the edge once more. She doesn’t know how much more she can take, but she doesn’t care. All she knows is that she never wants this moment to end.

“Lando…” she gasps, her voice trembling as her pussy clenches around him, the sensitivity building with every thrust. Her body feels electric, overstimulated, yet still craving more. “I don’t know if I can… again.”

He doesn’t slow down, his hips driving into her with a restless rhythm that makes her toes curl. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider as he leans in, his breath hot against her ear. “You can. You will.” His voice is low, commanding, and it sends a shiver through her.

She whimpers, her nails digging into his shoulders as he fucks her harder, deeper, each stroke hitting that spot inside her that makes her vision blur. The pressure builds, unbearable and exquisite all at once. Her back arches off the bed, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

“That’s it,” he growls, his eyes locked on hers, dark with hunger. “Let go for me.”

Her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cums even harder than before. Her pussy tightens around him, pulsing wildly, and then—she squirts again. A gush of liquid spills out of her, soaking his cock and the sheets beneath them. The force pushes him out of her, his dick sliding free as she trembles through the aftershocks.

Lando stares down at her, mesmerized, his chest heaving as he watches her come undone. He brushes a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at you.”

She’s too spent to respond, her body limp and boneless as she tries to catch her breath. But the way he looks at her—like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes her heart swell. She reaches up, her fingers brushing his cheek, and he leans into her touch, his lips curving into a soft smile.

When she finally comes down from her high, she looks up at him, her eyes filled with awe. “Three,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

He smirks, his eyes filled with pride. “One more to go,” he says, his voice filled with determination. “I’m not stopping until I’ve broken your record.”

Her heart skips a beat at his words, her body already responding to the promise in his voice.

Lando’s hands glide down her body, his touch deliberate and teasing. She’s still trembling from the last orgasm, her skin hypersensitive, but he doesn’t give her a moment to recover. His fingers find her clit, rubbing slow circles that make her gasp, her hips jerking involuntarily. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. “Even after all that.”

She whimpers, her hands clutching at the sheets as he slips two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Her back arches off the bed, a moan escaping her lips. “Lando… I can’t—I don’t think I can again.” Her voice is shaky, breathless.

“Yes, you can,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through her entire body. His eyes lock onto hers, dark and unyielding, filled with a hunger that makes her stomach clench. 

“You’re not done yet.” He leans down, his breath hot against her sensitive skin, and she feels the first flick of his tongue against her clit—light, teasing, deliberate. The sensation is electric, sending sharp jolts of pleasure radiating through her already overstimulated body. Her hips jerk involuntarily, a gasp escaping her lips as his fingers curl inside her, pressing against that spot that makes her see stars.

Her thighs tremble around him, her muscles tense and quivering as he works her with a relentless rhythm. His tongue swirls around her clit, alternating between soft licks and firm pressure, while his fingers thrust deeper, faster, hitting every nerve ending with precision. She can feel herself unraveling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core until it’s almost unbearable. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her hands clawing at the sheets for something to hold onto.

“I’m close,” she gasps, her voice breaking as the pressure builds to a crescendo. “So close…”

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, a gravelly vibration that makes her thighs tighten around him. His lips hover just above her pulsing clit, his breath hot and wet against her slick, swollen folds. She feels exposed, raw, every nerve in her body alight with anticipation. 

“Cum for me.” His tongue lashes against her clit—hard, fast, unrelenting—and his fingers curl inside her, pressing firmly against that spot that makes her vision blur. Her nails claw at the sheets, her hips bucking uncontrollably as she feels it building, that relentless pressure coiling tighter and tighter in her core.

Her pussy quivers around his fingers, clenching and releasing in erratic waves, so sensitive now that every stroke of his tongue feels like an electric shock. She can feel herself drenched, her arousal pooling beneath her, the sound of his fingers moving in and out of her loud and shameless. Her moans are desperate, guttural, her toes curling into the mattress as she wavers on the edge.

And then—she breaks. Her orgasm crashes over her with a force that steals her breath, her back arching off the bed as she cums harder than she’s ever thought possible. Her pussy spasms wildly around him, her release gushing out in a flood that soaks his hand, his wrist, the sheets beneath them. The sensations are overwhelming, an exquisite mix of pleasure and overstimulation that makes her cry out, her voice cracking under the intensity. Her thighs tremble violently, her muscles clenched so tight they ache, but Lando doesn’t stop. His tongue circles her clit relentlessly, his fingers thrusting deeper, pushing her higher, squeezing every drop of ecstasy from her shaking body. Tiny gasps escape her lips, each one sharp and uncontrolled, as the aftershocks ripple through her in endless waves.

When he finally pulls away, she collapses onto the bed, boneless and utterly spent. Her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath, her legs splayed open, trembling. She can still feel the echo of her orgasm coursing through her, her pussy throbbing with the remnants of pleasure. Lando sits back on his heels, his eyes devouring her as droplets of her cum glisten on his chin, his lips curved into a satisfied smirk.

“That’s four,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, bringing them to his lips and tasting her. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

She looks up at him, her chest heaving, her eyes glazed with exhaustion and satisfaction. “You’re insatiable,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. 

He smirks, leaning down to kiss her softly, his lips lingering against hers as if savoring the taste of her. “And you’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze dark with admiration. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea how hot it is when you squirt. I can’t believe I made you do that—especially for the first time.” His thumb brushes her cheek, his touch tender despite the intensity in his voice. “You’re incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible.”

She feels a flush rise to her cheeks, her body still tingling from the aftermath of her orgasm. The way he looks at her—like she’s something extraordinary—makes her heart race all over again. She doesn’t know what to say, so she simply reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, and he leans into her touch, his smirk softening into something more intimate.

Lando’s eyes linger on her, dark and unreadable, as he traces a finger along the curve of her hip. His touch is feather-light, almost reverent, like he’s memorizing every inch of her trembling body. She’s sprawled out beneath him, completely spent, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Her pussy throbs, raw and sensitive, still pulsing with the echoes of her last orgasm.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, filled with awe. He brushes a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “I can’t believe you just did that. Squirted for me.” His lips curve into a slow, satisfied smirk, but there’s something softer in his gaze now—something that makes her heart flutter despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

She blinks up at him, her vision still hazy, her body too weak to do much more than lie there. “I… I didn’t know I could do that,” she whispers, her voice hoarse, barely audible. Her thighs are slick, the sheets soaked beneath her, and she can still feel the faint trickle of her release between her legs. It’s overwhelming, the way her body feels both destroyed and alive, like every nerve ending has been set on fire and then doused in ice.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her skin. “You’re perfect,” he says, his tone so sincere it makes her chest ache. “Four times, Y/N. We broke your record.” There’s pride in his voice, a quiet satisfaction that makes her blush despite herself. His hand slides down her side, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing lazy circles against her skin. “And you squirted. Fuck, I’ll never forget that.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, her fingers twitching as she reaches up to brush against his jaw. “You drive me wild,” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and affection. “I don’t think I can move.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm, and shifts beside her, pulling her into his arms. She nestles against his chest, her head resting over his heartbeat, steady and strong. His fingers trail up and down her back, soothing and possessive all at once. “You don’t have to move,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her hair. “Just let me hold you.”

She closes her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of his embrace. Her body feels heavy, every muscle limp and boneless, but there’s a strange sense of peace in the aftermath. The room is quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something uniquely them.

“Lando?” she whispers after a moment, her voice barely audible.

“Hmm?” His hand stills on her back, his attention fully on her.

She hesitates, her fingers curling against his chest. “Thank you,” she says softly, her cheeks flushing. “For… for making me feel like that. Like I’m…” She trails off, unsure how to put it into words.

He tilts her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes are soft, filled with something that makes her breath catch. “Like you’re mine,” he finishes for her, his voice low and certain. “Because you are, Y/N. Completely mine.”

Her heart skips a beat, her chest tightening with an emotion she’s not ready to name. Instead, she nods, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Yours,” she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses her then, slow and tender, his lips moving against hers with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with the intensity of what came before. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. “Get some rest,” he murmurs, his hand sliding back down to her hip. “I’ve got you.”

She closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the safety of his arms. Her body is wrecked, her mind blissfully blank, and for the first time in a long time, she feels utterly, completely at peace.

She closes her eyes, letting herself drift in the safety of his arms. Her body is wrecked, her mind blissfully blank, and for the first time in a long time, she feels utterly, completely at peace. But then she shifts slightly, her thigh brushing against him, and she feels it—the hard, unyielding length of him pressed against her. Her eyes flutter open, her breath catching as she realizes he’s still hard, still throbbing with need.

“Lando,” she whispers, her voice soft but tinged with concern. She tilts her head back to look up at him, her brow furrowing. “You didn’t… you didn’t cum.”

He chuckles low in his chest, the sound warm and reassuring, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something hungry. His hand slides down her back, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing lazy circles against her skin. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint. “I was too focused on you.”

Her heart skips a beat, a mix of guilt and something else—something hotter—stirring in her chest. She shifts again, her hand sliding down his stomach until her fingers brush against him. He inhales sharply, his hips jerking involuntarily at her touch. “Y/N…” he warns, his voice strained, but she doesn’t stop.

“Let me take care of you,” she says softly, echoing his earlier words. Her fingers wrap around him, her touch tentative but firm, and she feels him pulse in her hand. His breath hitches, his grip on her hip tightening as she begins to stroke him slowly, her movements deliberate and teasing.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back against the pillow, his eyes closing as she works him. His hips buck into her hand, his cock slick with precum, and she can feel the tension coiled in his body, the way he’s holding himself back. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” she interrupts, her voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing her down. She leans up, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, her hand moving faster now, her thumb swiping over the tip of him. “You gave me so much. Let me give this to you.”

His breath hitches, sharp and uneven, as his body tenses beneath her touch. She can feel the way his muscles coil, every fiber of him tightening like a spring ready to snap. His cock pulses in her hand, hot and heavy, slick with precum that smears across her fingers as she strokes him with deliberate precision. Her thumb swipes over the sensitive tip, and he lets out a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking off the bed as he thrusts into her grip.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps, his voice raw and broken, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white. His chest heaves, his abs flexing with each ragged breath, and she can see the strain in his face—the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes squeeze shut as if he’s fighting to hold on just a little longer. But she doesn’t let up, her hand moving faster now, her fingers tightening around him just enough to push him over the edge.

With a deep, shuddering moan, he cums, his release spilling over her fingers in thick, hot spurts. She feels it pulse against her palm, the warmth of it coating her skin as she keeps stroking him, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until his body goes slack, collapsing back onto the bed. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breath still coming in shallow gasps, and she can see the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.

She slows her movements, her hand still wrapped around him, feeling the way he twitches in her grasp, oversensitive but utterly spent. He looks up at her, his eyes dark and hazy, filled with something that makes her heart skip a beat. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse, his lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smirk. “You’re incredible.”

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn’t pull away, her fingers tracing idle patterns along his length as she watches him come down from his high. His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with gratitude.

She smiles, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Always,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. And as she settles back against him, her head resting on his chest, she knows there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: movie quotes associated with your future relationship

Hello and welcome to this reading! Here I will give you movie quotes that associate with your future relationship. I hope you enjoy this reading!

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Patreon Masterlist

The extended version of this reading can be found on my patreon, the link of which is here

Pile 1:

"I think I’d miss you even if we’d never met." – The Wedding Date (2005)

"You complete me." – Jerry Maguire (1996)

"I wish I knew how to quit you." – Brokeback Mountain (2005)

"I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly." – You’ve Got Mail (1998)

"To me, you are perfect." – Love Actually (2003)

"I love you. I’ve loved you for nine years. I’ve just been too arrogant and scared to realize it." – Crazy, Stupid, Love (2011)

"It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you." – The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

"You're my person." – Grey’s Anatomy (TV, but still iconic!)

"You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you." – Pride & Prejudice (2005)

"You are my greatest adventure." – The Incredibles (2004)

Extended reading

Pile 2:

"You make me want to be a better man." – As Good as It Gets (1997)

"I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her." – Notting Hill (1999)

"After all... I'm just a man, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him." – Parallel moment in Notting Hill (1999)

"They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops… And that’s true." – Big Fish (2003)

"Sometimes you love a person for all the reasons they’re not like you. And sometimes, you love them for all the reasons they are." – Juno (2007)

"You had me at hello." – Jerry Maguire (1996)

"You were my new dream." – Tangled (2010)

"I wanted so badly to be good enough for you." – The Notebook (2004)

"I love how she makes me feel, like anything is possible." – 500 Days of Summer (2009)

"We’re like two peas in a pod, but one of us is cracked." – I couldn’t find where this was from, but this fit so perfectly I couldn’t not add it

Extended reading

Pile 3:

"It’s like in that moment the whole universe existed just to bring us together." – Serendipity (2001)

"I will return. I will find you. Love you. Marry you. And live without shame." – Atonement (2007)

"I love you. I knew it the minute I met you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to catch up." – Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

"You and me. It’s a forever kind of thing." – Unknown, but very fitting!

"Our love is like the wind. I can’t see it, but I can feel it." – A Walk to Remember (2002)

"It was always you." – The Vow (2012)

"I know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I touched you." – Twilight (2008)

"I waited for you for 99 years, and you were 2 hours late." – The Age of Adaline (2015)

"It's not over. It was never over." – The Notebook (2004)

"The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." – Moulin Rouge! (2001)

Extended reading

[okwonyo]

HIGH HEELS SHOES ✶ when you wear heels 𓈒

𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗦或 ❜ 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗅. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽.

【 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 】 𝑙’ enhypen & female!reader 14OO established relationship ⠀ ｡ ｡ skinship kissing

骚人 ܃ i have .. no idea of what this is ㅠㅠ

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG

“baby,” he calls from the bathroom upon finishing to get ready. he gets out of to go to the room where you are getting ready. “we have to leave soon, are you—”

his mouth gets dry when he is hit by the heaven-like vision of you standing in front of the mirror. he stops in his movements, unable to say anything for a while.

it gives you enough seconds to turn around and look at him. your giggles echoes in the room when you see his face.

your body grows hot as your boyfriend checks you out with barely controlled lust written all over his face.

you can tell by the expression on he his wearing the the red dress you are wearing is driving him into a spiral— but, you see him crumble when his eyes fall on your heels and lingers on your legs.

he groans as he walks to you, “you can’t do this to me, baby,” his hand comes settle themselves on your waist before he pulls you close. he kisses you first, yet he is the one that says, “we really need to leave soon.”

JAY

“they are so beautiful,” you breathe out, holding the beautiful heels you just got gifted by your boyfriend. you barely remember mentioning this brand and specific shoes but he does, vividly.

he smiles, relieved as if you could ever dislike anything he gives you. his hand holds the back of your neck gently as he gives you a forehead kiss, “i’m glad you like them, princess.”

you let yourself get kissed— as you are still in a dreamlike state, you don’t even realize that you are giggling when his lips connect with your skin. and you are too busy staring at the beautiful gift to realize that the man is getting on one knee.

he delicately takes the box out of your hands, “let me help you,” he tells you, putting the box on the floor.

he takes one of the heels in the box and under your adoring gaze, as if you were a princess, he lifts your legs up ever so gently, high enough to slide the shoe on your foot. your love for him grows, although you thought that was impossible, as you watch him do the same for your other foot.

“perfect,” he says when he is done. he gets up, and kisses you again— on your mouth this time. “you are perfect, angel.”

JAKE

as soon as you arrive home, you reach for the bedroom— closely followed by your boyfriend— to lay on the mattress. back resting against the soft mattress, a soft sigh leaves the barrier of your lips as you stare at the ceiling.

“let me help you, m’love,” his sweet voice declares. for a moment, you are confused about what he could be possibly talking about then you feel his hand wrapping around your ankle.

he holds one of your high heel, sliding the louboutin shoe off your feet— with such care that it almost makes you dizzy.

“you didn’t have to,” you chuckle when he takes off the other half of the pair of heels. you shamelessly watch him take off his suit’s vest from the front side of the bed.

shortly, he finds himself crawling on top of you, “you are so pretty,” he whispers. he doesn’t think that adding ‘tonight’ would be truthful. he thinks you are always gorgeous. “i thought i wouldn’t be able to control myself everytime i looked at you.”

you wrap your fingers around his tie, slowly pulling you closer to your lips. he sighs when you finally kiss— as if he was waiting for it all day long. honestly, he was.

SUNGHOON

there is nothing about you that goes unnoticed by him. because he spends most of his time staring at you, he notices every bit of your expression. even if you are smiling, he catches the wince when you think no one is looking.

however, he waits until you are in the intimacy of the back of the car, drove by your chauffeur, to do something about it. your legs are already over his laps when the car starts to move.

“are they hurting?” his question reaches you after a long silence. you raise a brow, silently asking him what he is talking about. you nod when he asks again, “your feet. are they hurting?”

the man gets out of the car quickly when it stops, just to rush and open the door for you. upon your feet gets in contact with ground, as you steadily stands on the floor, he steps closer.

you let out a surprised noise when your body gets almost turned upside down. his strong arms hold you, carry you like a newly married woman going ro spend time with her husband.

you will always be amazed about how he can pick you up with no efforts needed, as if you weighed nothing. it’s so attractive, you want to kiss him.

SUNOO

he gladly accepts to help you choose what pair of heels you are going to wear tonight. he is the one who encouraged you to wear them, and he is always more than happy to help you out.

but the truth is, your lover is way too distracted by you to think straight. his opinion is clearly biased because he thinks that everything you wear is beautiful.

“what about those ones?” your voice pulls him out of his contemplation of you. standing between his legs as he sits on the couch, you stare at the heels as he stares at you.

he doesn’t even try to look at the shoes on your feet. he only holds your hand to make you sit on his lap instead before breathing out; “gorgeous.”

you chuckle, shyness takes over you when he kisses your cheek gently and rubs your thigh with his thumb. “you didn’t even look at them, sun.”

his lips peck your cheek once again, then another time, clearly waiting for you to turn your head and kiss him— you do it and against your lips he murmurs, “everything you wear is beautiful, baby.”

JUNGWON

he loves it. he loves when you wear heels, he loves how it makes your legs look so alluring— more alluring than the already are— he loves how hypotonic it looks as well as it sounds when you walk.

put on heels and the man can’t think about anything else, he can’t do anything else other than stare at you, he doesn’t want to do anything else but touch you.

his large hand holds your hip and rests on your lower back as you walk. his hands holds on your waist as you talk to your friends, he pulls you closer to his body every time he feels like you are too far.

from behind you, he leans in to reach your ear as your friends discuss. his lips brush against your neck, kisses your skin before he whispers, “you look so good, doll.”

you laugh quietly, it is barely audible for anyone that isn’t as close to you as he is. in a teasing tone, you warn him. “jungwon, you are going to strangle me.”

the ongoing conversation fades out, for the both of you as he kisses your neck again. his mouth trails from your exposed shoulder to behind you ear and you elbow him when he tries to bite your earlobe.

RIKI

he is deeply in love. his heart starts to beat as soon as he gets a glimpse of you face through your house’s door. he stands correctly as soon as he sees you— so lovesick.

his mouth falls agape while you approach him, his eyes scans your entire being with nothing but pure awe. it’s the first time you wear this kind of shoes and he prays it’s not the last.

he doesn’t realize that his hand moved to his chest. feeling his heartbeat beneath his palms, he breathes out as you are finally to him, “you didn’t used to be that tall.”

he feels like he is going crazy when you tilt your head to the side, he mirrors your movement hopelessly as well as the smile you wear as you answer, “is that all you have to say?”

he can’t help but laugh at your cute fake pout. then he comes closer to your face, “of course not,” he gives you a sweet kiss before continuing; “you’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

he is satisfied when you smile widely at him, as the saying says ‘happy wife, happy life’ even if you are not married. yet.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[boyfhee]

엔하이픈───𝗣𝗨𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗥

𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢ㅤ／ㅤso, let me sit on your lap and press dewy kisses on your chest.

CATALOGUEㅤ｡⠀( 245O ) ㅤ&ㅤbf ! enha x fem ! reader, fluff ㅤ 𖥔 kissing, petnames, skinship

ㅤ ꒰⁠ ⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠ ꒱ㅤ..ㅤwrtiting a very very old idea >< as always, happiest reading mwah mwah <3

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks ! °ᯅ°

HEESEUNG

his sunday evenings are for gaming and today was nothing different. you finish up whatever you were doing before deciding to join your boyfriend.

you sneak up to him with a quiet laugh, planting a quick peck on his cheek when he's in the middle of saying something over the headset.

“is that seat taken?” you ask casually, lips pursed. he takes a second to pause the game before looking at you, half flustered half confused, before realisation set in him when he sees your gaze pointing at his lap.

a swift motion and you're already on his lap with your back pressed flushed against his chest. his arms snake around your waist, tugging you closer to him and his breath is warm against your ear as you feel him smirking amidst his words. “only by you, angel,”

JONGSEONG

he has been waiting for you on the couch for fifteen minutes now, all ready with blankets and your favourite snacks for the movie. his eyes never leave the sight of you in your silk sleep set, hair slightly wet from the shower, waiting for you.

and, he's literally giving you those cute pleading eyes when you come around, patting the space next to him, biting back the cutest smile, only for you to catch him off with your next words, “can i sit here instead?”

your finger is pointing his lap and his eyes are wide in amusement. you're such a tease sometimes, it's not healthy for his heart. jay can only chuckle at your request, hands on your hips to pull you down on his lap. “you don't have to ask, doll,”

he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses before gently turning your face towards him by your chin to press his lips against yours— and you might do this again.

JAEYUN

you hate exam season and it's mainly because you get to see less and lesser of your beloved boyfriend. nonetheless, he made time for you, inviting you over to his place, to which to happily agree.

“hi, my love,” he whispers against your lips before pulling you into a kiss just as you enter his apartment. your lips curl into a smile, reciprocating the kiss, sweet, slow and ever so heavenly on your lips as he backs you towards the couch, only to pull back just before the best part. “i have missed you,”

and he's looking at you expectantly, waiting for his long awaited hug, the one where you both just melt into each other's embrace without any care for the world. however, you simply give him a shy look, requesting quietly. “can i sit on your lap instead?”

it would be a lie to say your words don't make him blush, but he's quick to pull you down on his lap, nice and cozy, your arms around each other as if one would disappear the next moment. his face is buried in your shoulder while your fingers trace a gentle pattern on his back, and he sighs contently. “i could get used to this,”

SUNGHOON

it's honestly a sixth sense. he could sense your puppy dog eyes from across his room while he is working on something. a sigh escapes his lips and puts the pen down, looking up at you. “can you stop with those eyes?”

despite his words, your eyes only get more pleading, pout getting deeper— almost like an exaggerated frown. actually, it's painfully hard to ignore you when you're looking so adorable.

“come here,” and sunghoon finally gives in, pushing his chair back, looking at you while you're standing in front of him with the same look as before. you don't even have to say it. he knows exactly what would lift your mood and he does exactly that— pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. “satisfied now?”

he smiles when you nod against his chest, burying your face deeper before looking up at him with the sweetest smile that makes his heart flutter. “very,”

SUNOO

he already knows you're up to something when you lead him into the bedroom and push him down on the bed. well, it's not half wrong that he is expecting something— then you take out something from your drawer.

“let me do your eyeliner,” you chime in with a smile, eyes gleaming with excitement and mischief as you add more words. “while sitting on your lap,”

it takes him a good minute to process your words. you can be quite menacing and he's well aware of it by the look on your face.

he leans back on the bed and takes your hand, tugging you forward and letting you settle comfortably on his lap. your one hand cups his cheek, caressing gently as he kisses the tip of your nose. “i prefer to have you on my lap anyway,”

JUNGWON

a relieved sigh falls off your boyfriend's lips when his eyes catch a glimpse of you through the crowd, walking inside the hall.

he chuckles at the way your nose scrunches up due to the smell of alcohol in the air, the displeasure immediately morphing into bliss when you spot him on a couch in the corner. “i thought you wouldn't come,”

“i changed my mind,” you shrug, eyes looking around at everyone as he takes your hand, trying to make a little space for you on the already packed couch. “it's okay, i'll sit here,”

his eyes immediately go wide at your implication, the way your gaze shifts down to his lap and then up at him. “you sure, princess?”

“why not?” you make yourself comfortable on his lap, one hand on his cheek and the other arm instinctively goes around his neck when he tugs you closer by your waist. “you're my boyfriend,”

and he's not used to it— the word or your boldness. two months into the relationship and you know exactly how to leave him speechless. but then you lean closer, capturing his lips into a slow kiss.

“that i am,” he whispers after pulling back for air, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

NI-KI

out of all things, riki didn't expect you to show up at his place with his favourite snacks and soft drinks. you're in his room, which is quite a mess if he's being honest. he himself is sitting only in his sweats and a tank top, hair messy, scrolling through his phone— honestly, his mom could've at least let him know before letting his dear girlfriend go upstairs to his room.

“wait—” he looks around frantically, not quite sure where to start from, half flushed and half embarrassed. “uh, where are you going to sit. . .”

it's a quiet whisper followed by your soft laugh and you put the bag of edibles on his desk, enjoying how his go red cheeks when you step closer as he instinctively sits back on the chair.

“how about here?” his mouth falls agape and you hold back a giggle when his face turns a darker shade of red. he doesn't say no— eyes spelling yes along with a slow nod. “you're so cute,”

he hides away his face further, hands caressing gentle patterns on your waist involuntarily. “s-shut up,”

[missarchive]

motel six

spencer reid

cw; spencer reid x fem!reader, spencer gets caught jacking off, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, softdom!reader, sub!spencer, one bed troupe, oral (m. receiving), aftercare, unprotected p in v, spencer’s a little desperate and awkward (what’s new)

an; HIII ALLL!!! This is based on an ask I received earlier this month, but I have had a few similar ones so I finally made a fic for them. The truth is that I have been seeing a beautiful woman and she is taking up most of my time. BUT- I managed to sneak this one in. I will start posting more consistently again now that my writer’s block has finally disappeared. As always, please leave some feedback if you liked it (if you didn’t just know you’re stepping on my hopes and dreams). Love and miss u guys xoxo

wc; around 3k

Your stomach twists. A long day chasing leads and poring over case files has already left you drained, and now you have to share a room with someone? You glance around at your teammates, who are pairing off with little hesitation. Morgan claims a room with Rossi. Hotch and JJ take another. Emily and Garcia get the third. That leaves…

You turn your head just as Spencer Reid—resident genius, profiler extraordinaire, and your usual case partner—adjusts the strap of his bag with an unmistakable grimace. His hazel eyes dart to yours before flicking away, his jaw tightening.

Of course.

"Looks like it's you and me, Reid," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods stiffly and brushes past you toward the room number scribbled on the keycard sleeve. Your stomach sinks further, but you push down the unease and follow.

The room is as underwhelming as expected: beige walls, scratchy-looking blankets, and a single queen bed shoved against one side. A rickety wooden chair sits near the window, but otherwise, the space is cramped.

Spencer stops in the doorway, his whole body tensing. "You take the bed. I’ll sleep in the chair."

You frown. "Reid, that thing looks like it’ll collapse if you breathe on it too hard. We can just—"

"I said I’ll sleep in the chair," he snaps, dropping his go-bag by the door.

The sharpness in his voice catches you off guard. Spencer is always a little awkward, sometimes distant, but rarely outright rude. You watch as he rubs his temple, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if he might crack a tooth. He looks… angry. At you?

"Okay," you say slowly. "Did I do something?"

"No," he bites out. "Just drop it."

You exhale sharply, irritation flaring. "Spencer, we’re both exhausted. If something’s wrong, you can just—"

"Just leave it alone, Y/N."

His words are clipped, final. You stare at him for a moment, searching his face for an answer, but he won’t meet your gaze. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

Fine. If he wants to be an ass, let him.

"I’m going outside," you mutter, grabbing your jacket. "Maybe by the time I get back, you’ll have figured out how to use your words like an adult."

You don’t wait for a response before stepping out into the cool night air.

The motel parking lot is nearly empty, save for the team's vehicles and a couple of semi-trucks parked along the far end. You breathe in the crisp air, letting it wash away some of the frustration bubbling inside you.

Spencer’s behavior isn’t just annoying—it stings. You thought the two of you were friends. Sure, he can be awkward and distant, but he’s never been outright cruel before. Whatever is bothering him, he clearly doesn’t want to share it with you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the cold seeps through your thin jacket. After a few minutes, your irritation starts to wane, replaced by exhaustion. You don’t have the energy to stay mad, and honestly, all you want is to collapse into bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

With a sigh, you make your way back toward the room. The hallway is silent, the only sound your footsteps against the aging carpet. You reach for the door handle but freeze as a muffled noise seeps through the thin walls.

A low, breathy moan.

Your heart stutters.

You strain to listen, barely breathing as another quiet sound follows—one you recognize immediately.

A strangled gasp, unmistakably Spencer’s.

Heat rushes to your face as your brain supplies every possible explanation, each one more embarrassing than the last. You should walk away. You should turn around and pretend you never heard anything. But your hand stays frozen on the doorknob, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Another moan drifts through the door, this one louder. You swallow against the sudden lump in your throat.

"Fuck," Spencer gasps. "O-oh god— please."

His voice is low, rough. Desperate.

You grip the doorknob tighter, debating for what feels like an eternity. Should you walk away? Or—

You ease the door open, pressing your hand against it as if to stop yourself from charging forward. Spencer’s back is to you, his head thrown back as he works himself over, his hand moving in rapid strokes.

You can’t help it—you step further into the room, drinking in the sight of him.

He’s sprawled on the bed, shirtless and pale in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. His arm muscles are tense, sweat dripping down the side of his face. The blanket is thrown back, revealing his naked lower half: his long legs, his perfect hands—

His cock, thick and wet between his fingers.

You feel a rush of arousal at the sight, your blood pulsing hot. This is so wrong. So inappropriate. He’s your teammate, for god’s sake, and yet—

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

Spencer's hips jerk upwards, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Y/N," he gasps again, his head falling back against the pillow. His eyelids flutter shut, his brows drawn together.

"Y/N, fuck, please—" His hand moves faster, stroking himself with a rough desperation that makes your breath hitch. You can’t look away as he thrusts against his grip, his hips writhing, his spine arched.

"Ah- fuck," he gasps, his body tensing, his fist tightening around himself. His mouth falls open, his eyes squeezing shut as he comes with a strangled moan.

You press your hand over your mouth, holding back a whimper of your own as you watch him.

Spencer sags against the mattress, his chest heaving. He's so fucking beautiful, and—

And you’re still standing here, watching him.

Your eyes dart to his face, and your stomach plummets as he turns his head.

He opens his eyes, and you meet his gaze across the room.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

Then you both leap into action.

He scrambles upright, fumbling for the blanket to cover himself. You jump backward, tripping over the threshold and landing hard on your ass.

"Shit," you hiss, wincing at the pain that shoots up your tailbone. "Shit. I—fuck, I’m sorry. I should—"

"Y/N," Spencer says in a strangled voice. "I—I thought you were gone. I didn’t know you were—"

He trails off, looking anywhere but at you. You struggle to your feet, smoothing your clothes down self-consciously. This is awkward as hell.

"I thought you were asleep," you admit, wincing. "I didn’t mean to—"

Spencer draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He looks so fucking embarrassed, and you can't blame him.

You should say something. Apologize. You should put him at ease—

But the sight of him still has your pulse hammering.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down your racing thoughts. "I’m sorry, Spencer. I really am. I don’t mean—this is just—"

He raises his head, his eyes searching your face. "What were you doing, standing there?" he asks softly.

You swallow against the lump in your throat. "I don’t know," you whisper. "It was wrong, what I did. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have watched you. I’m sorry."

Spencer lowers his gaze, his face still flushed. "What if I wanted you to?" he mumbles.

Your heart jumps. "What?"

"I wanted you to watch me," he says louder, his eyes darting up to meet yours. "I’ve been wanting you to for weeks, ever since you asked me to take over the case files."

"What?" you repeat stupidly.

Spencer shifts, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I started—I started thinking about you. Fantasizing about you. You touching me, kissing me— everything."

Oh.

You stare at him, trying to process. "Reid," you say softly. "I—"

"Don’t apologize," he says quickly. "It’s not your fault, I just—I wanted you. So fucking bad. I thought that sleeping next to you would be—"

"What?" you prompt gently.

He exhales sharply. "That it would be uncomfortable," he says in a rough whisper. "That it would drive me crazy. That maybe you’d—maybe you’d feel it too."

His gaze flicks up to yours again, full of hope.

Your heart races. "Is that what you want?" you ask, stepping forward.

Spencer's breath hitches, his fingers tightening around his knees. "Yes," he rasps. "Oh fuck, yes. If you—Y/N, I’ll do anything you want. Just—just don’t leave me alone again. Please."

His words send a surge of pleasure through your veins. The sight of him, desperate and pleading, is almost too much to bear.

"Spencer," you whisper, taking another step forward. "Come here."

He scrambles to his feet, rushing toward you. You meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He melts against you, pressing his face into the curve of your neck with a sigh.

"I can’t believe you saw that," he murmurs into your skin.

"I can’t believe I did either," you admit with a chuckle. "But I’m glad I did."

Spencer raises his head, his hazel eyes searching yours. "You are?"

You nod, smiling softly. "Yes."

His face flushes. "Do—do you want to watch me again?"

You smile wider. "Maybe later," you tease. "Right now, I think it’s my turn."

Spencer's eyes widen as you press him backwards, onto the bed. "I thought you were tired," he murmurs, his voice already thickening with arousal.

"I am," you agree, smiling. "But this is more important." You drop your jacket onto the floor, pulling off your shirt and jeans in quick motions. Spencer's eyes dart down to take in the sight of your naked body, and you flush at his hungry gaze.

He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow as you climb on top of him.

It takes a lot to shock Spencer Reid. But you're definitely up for the challenge. The look on his face is priceless as you take his cock in your mouth, not wasting any more time. His hips buck against the mattress, his hands threading into your hair.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Oh my god. Y/N."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, urging you on as you work him over. He's so responsive, moaning and gasping and whining—fuck, it's a beautiful sound.

You work him deeper, taking

Spencer moans loudly as you take him deeper, his thighs trembling. "Y/N, oh fuck, I—fuck—"

You press one hand against his hip, holding him steady as you swirl your tongue over the underside of his cock. Spencer bucks against your grip, his fingers tightening in your hair. He's still so sensitive from his previous release, but he's still getting harder—thicker—by the second.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, teasing the spot behind the head.

"Oh fuck," Spencer gasps, his voice broken. "Y/N, please—please don’t stop. I’m going to— ah."

You press your other hand against his stomach, feeling the muscles contract. His whole body is straining upwards, his back arched and his eyes squeezed shut.

You take him all the way in, swallowing around his length as you work your lips over his shaft. Spencer comes with a cry, his hips jerking as he empties down your throat. You swallow every drop, holding his gaze as you slowly pull back.

"Touch," he rasps, his fingers searching for your own.

You swallow against the ache in your throat and smile up at him, lacing your fingers with his. "How are you feeling?" you ask, running your thumb over his hand, keeping your voice soft as to not disturb the air.

Spencer sighs, though not out of exhaustion, you assume he’s still taking everything in as you see his head rolling against the pillow. "It’s never felt like that before."

You grin. "Glad I could help."

He shifts, reaching for his discarded pants on the floor. "We should—we should clean up," he mumbles, his eyes darting to yours. He flushes when he sees your expression, and his face turns even redder as you realize what he’s doing.

"Reid," you laugh. "Are you really reaching for tissues right now?"

His ears turn bright red. "Well, what—what else am I supposed to do?"

You shift, straddling his hips as you lean down. "How about we do something else," you murmur. You kiss his jawline, working your way down his neck.

"Like what?" he asks in a breathy voice.

"Like this," you reply. You shift, taking his cock inside you. Spencer's breath hitches, and he groans at the feel of you surrounding him. You clasp his shoulders as you begin to move, his hands falling to your hips. He gasps with each thrust, his eyes falling shut as his head lolls back against the pillow.

"Y/N," he whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. “I don’t know if I can-."

You ride him harder, sliding up and down his cock. “Yes you can, baby. I know you can give me one more,” Spencer's hips rock upwards to meet you, his breath coming in broken gasps.

His fingers tighten around your hips, holding you close as he thrusts upwards.

You’re both panting and gasping now as you chase the peak. You're so close. So fucking close.

"Please—" Spencer groans. "Y/N. I'm—fuck, I'm coming."

You feel him spasm inside you, his fingers tightening almost painfully around your hips. You groan, your movements slowing as you ride him through his orgasm. Spencer's eyes are closed, his mouth open as he gasps for air. His body trembles beneath you, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as you reach yours, too.

You slump forward, catching yourself on his shoulders as you press your forehead against his. He opens his eyes and smiles at you, a warm expression that makes your chest ache.

"Hi," he murmurs softly.

"Hi Spencer." You smile back.

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the weight of each other’s bodies. Finally, you roll off him, stretching out next to him on the creaky motel bed.

You reach for him, pulling him into your arms as you smile. He nestles against you, his arm snaking around your waist as he presses his face against your chest.

You wrap your arm around him, whispering soft praise into his hair as you stroke his skin gently. He relaxes further, his body growing heavy with sleep.

The mattress is uncomfortable, the sheets too thin. But somehow, you feel more at ease than you have in weeks.

Spencer Reid is a brilliant man. But he’s also really fucking good at other things too. And you’re excited to find out what else he’s good at.

You smile to yourself, your chest warm with affection.

"Goodnight, Reid," you whisper into his hair.

He hums a soft reply, his breathing already slowing. You wrap your arm tighter around him, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off into sleep. Tomorrow, the case will continue, and so will your job. But right now, you have Spencer in your arms.

And that’s more than enough. You smile again, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you drift off to sleep. This room might not be perfect. But it’s home for the moment, and that’s all you need. You drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of Spencer's heartbeat against your chest.

[lymtw]

Movie Night

(Toji and His Shy Girl)

Friday night is unofficially movie night for you and Toji. You always go back and forth on what you should do and options are tossed out, like a nice dinner or trying food from someplace new or going to a view and sitting in the trunk of his car with blankets and some snacks. Most of the time, all of those options are thrown out the window and you just end up sitting in your bed or his bed and watching movies together. It doesn't matter what you do, it's always good, and the sleep overs make it even better.

A knock on your door signals Toji's arrival. Though you haven't had any caffeine since the coffee you treated yourself to earlier in the afternoon, you feel jittery. You grab the surprise you have for him and walk over to answer the door. As soon as you pull the door open, there he is, looking handsome as always, even when he's donning a simple t-shirt and some sweatpants. He gives you that smirk of his—the one that makes your chest feel all warm and fuzzy, and wakes up the butterflies in your stomach. He has a bag in his hand, filled with the snacks he promised to bring.

"Aren't you gonna say hi? Did you even miss me?" He teases, loving the way you gently nod as he speaks, like you're ready to prove that you did in fact miss him.

"Hi, Toji," you say, a smile spreading on your lips when you become overly aware of his focus on you. "I missed you. Come in." You move aside and let him into your cozy home, a place he's all too familiar with. He steps out of his slides and leaves them behind next to a pair of your shoes, his gaze never leaving you as he waits for you to lock the door after you shut it.

"What's that, doll?" Toji asks, when you approach him with full hands. There's a soft smile on your lips and your eyes shine like the stars that speckle the sky, as you extend the neatly folded pair of pajamas towards him. You have the most precious look on your face, as if you're showing him one of your most prized possessions—something you're proud of.

"You don't have to wear them if you don't want to. I still have the receipt. I just thought it would be nice to wear matching pj's."

You're not asking for much. Toji knows this. This is nothing—you're not asking him for anything. All he can think as he takes in the adorable look on your face, is that it would be an absolutely disgusting, heinous crime, to deny you of something so simple, something that would make you so damn happy. He can't bring himself to destroy you like that. In doing that, he would be chipping his own heart.

"What are you talking about? Let me see them," he says, laying his hands out for you to place the clothes on. You carefully place them in his hands and watch as he unfolds the articles. You don't know what he's thinking as he inspects the shirt, but the hum he lets out is nerve wracking. The shirt's design is minimalistic. It's a black t-shirt with three little stars on the left side of the chest and a small crescent moon on the back, a few inches beneath the collar, and then the bottoms are in the same plaid style as yours, just dark green instead of red.

"Is this why you asked for my clothing sizes a couple days ago?" He asks, pulling down his pants out of nowhere. You can't even try to hold back your laugh as you look away after getting a glimpse of his boxers, the sound just slips out. "What are you laughing at? Nothing you haven't seen before," he says, grinning amusedly at your giggles.

He unfolds the comfy pair of pants and slides them on. Immediately after, his shirt comes off, and it's as if he wants you to notice—to ogle him—because he takes his sweet time getting the new shirt on. He catches your eyes trailing down his torso, and then, he hears it, the flustered giggle that tumbles off your lips, the sweet sound he was waiting on. He smirks as he puts the new shirt on, and once again waits for your reaction. The shirt is a thicker material and fits perfectly, so do the pants. You're now matching, just like you wanted.

"How do I look?" Toji asks, doing a simple hands in his pockets pose.

"Handsome and comfy," you respond, warmth reaching your face as you take in the sight.

"Yeah? You think so?" He asks as he picks up his previous outfit and drops it on the arm of your couch. He hears your affirmative hum and catches your little nod as he steps towards you.

"Hey, where's my kiss?" He asks, a sly little smirk curling his lips. His hands rest on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "I've been waiting hours and hours," he murmurs, green eyes absorbing the pretty smile that begins to form on your lips. "I want my reward."

You know that it won't be just a quick kiss with Toji, but still, you stand on your tippy toes and tilt your head upwards, waiting for Toji to meet you. He leans down, holding eye contact with you, as his lips come closer and closer. Once his nose is right next to yours and you feel his lips ghosting yours, he stops. He just loves the way you can't hide your fluster and how whenever you can't take it anymore, you resort to something you should have some sort of award for, by now—giggling.

"You're precious, ma," he says, his voice low. Dark eyes scan and re-memorize, for the nth time, every inch of your joyful expression, before finally he leans in the rest of the way, closing the distance between you and him.

His hands grip the back of your shirt as he feeds off your soft lips. Kiss after kiss, each one gentle and patient, demonstrating how much he truly longed for you. You feel butterflies in your stomach when you focus on the warmth of his body pressed against you and the way his lips chase yours for another kiss when you think he's finally going to pull away. His hands dip beneath your shirt to feel the bare, soft, and warm skin of your back. The simple touch is enough to spread goosebumps all over you.

The final kiss is long. Your lips lock, but Toji stops there, not going with the usual synchronized flow of the previous kisses, and when you don't expect it, he lets out deep hum and releases your lips with a more audible smack. He gives you a dumb grin in response to the stars that returned to your eyes.

"Do the thing, baby," he says, rubbing your back while he waits for you to snap out of your minor daze. He stays in the same slightly leaned position and waits for the softness of your lips to meet his skin. You press a kiss onto the smooth scar on the corner of his lips for an equal amount of time as the long kiss you shared before and smile softly when you pull away, your feet flat on the ground, again.

His hands come out of your shirt and he grins at how bashful you've become, despite the amount of times you've done this. You wouldn't immediately know what "do the thing" means, if you weren't so accustomed to doing it.

"Got your favorites," he says, nodding towards the bag he set down on your couch. "Did you keep up with your end of the deal?" He jokes, expecting a proud nod from you, because you've never let him down.

"Lemon-lime or Cool Blue Gatorade, right?" You ask, walking towards the kitchen.

"That's right, doll," he confirms, following behind you.

After the wine incident, he chooses to stay sober with you. It's not that he doesn't want to experience drinking with you and see you be more laid back and playful, it's the fact that he knows that that version of you is altered by alcohol. Sober you isn't that way, and while he loves every version of you, your natural way of being is his favorite.

He could spend hours flustering and teasing you, watching the way you coil in on yourself when he stares at you for too long. Feeling the way your body melts against his when he holds you is one of his favorite things. He likes being able to coax you into voicing your thoughts, wants, and needs. Maybe you're a little more honest about deeper matters when you're inebriated, but Toji is smart enough to know that it's practically involuntary. It's like your secrets are being spilled without your permission and while he's glad to know these things in the moment, he would rather hear them from you when you aren't drunk.

"I got you both. I didn't know which you liked more, so I just got both of them," you say, grabbing them off one of the shelves in your fridge. You turn and hand the cold drinks to Toji before going back to grab the one you got for yourself. You step back and shut the fridge door, smiling at him when he just stares at you.

"What?" You question.

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Just silently observes you standing in your small kitchen, in comfy, baggy pajamas that match his own. You're shifting on your feet, under his gaze, waiting for a response, but the response that he has in mind is a little too much for the lightness of the night. Something about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, something about coming home to you every day, something about putting a shiny rock on your finger. Something big, because his feelings for you are big.

"Nothing, ma," he says, tucking both juice bottles between his forearm and his side, so that he can rest his hand on the back of your neck as you walk back out to the living room. You grab the bag of snacks off the couch and head to your bedroom together.

You set the bag of snacks on the bed and sit down on your side. Toji has a designated side on your bed, which is, of course, the other side.

"Light on or off?" Toji asks, shutting the door.

"Off?" You say, with a questioning tone, leaving room for him to object. Shortly after, the room goes dark. Only your TV, which sits idly on its home screen, creates light that illuminates the walls. Toji walks around your bed and settles into his side.

"What are we watching, this time?" He asks, reaching for the pack of sour gummy bears.

"It's your turn to choose," you say, offering the remote to him. "Last time we watched a bunch of Disney movies. I don't know if you wanna do that again," you say, smiling sheepishly.

"You doubt your taste in things too much, ma. Those Toy Story movies were pretty good. Show me another one of your favorites."

"Alright," you say, in compliance. You go to the Disney+ application and search for another favorite. Nothing too sing song-y, because you feel like you're on thin ice already in playing these animated movies for him. You got away with Jessie singing "When She Loved Me" in Toy Story 2, because even he thought the poor cowgirl got a rough deal when she was abandoned.

"Ratatouille?" He reads. "What's that about?"

"We're about to watch it," you say, briefly turning over and smiling.

He hums as he looks over the caption beneath the title that explains the synopsis of the movie.

"The rat's gonna cook? This should be interesting."

Lo and behold, he's hooked. Neither of you has made a peep and you're both mindlessly snacking on candy and chips, sipping on Gatorade, while watching the crazy things in this rat's life unfold. Him and his brother survived being struck by lightning and being shot at by an old lady with a shotgun. That part seemed to amuse Toji plenty.

Towards the end of the movie, Toji turns to you with sour sugar unknowingly speckled on his lips from the candy he's been feasting on, and leans in to press kisses to your temple and cheek.

"Watch," you say, smiling at the softness that meets your skin.

"I'm watching," he murmurs, continuing on with his sticky kisses.

"Look, they're stealing food from the kitchen," you explain, shocked despite already knowing what's going to happen.

"Mm," Toji hums, seemingly interested, but continuing on with his affectionate, sugary pecks.

"Look, you're gonna miss it," you say, giggling as you gently push his face away. It completely backfires on you, because he just grabs your wrist, and pulls your hand down to continue on with his kisses.

"Come here," he says, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you so that you're sitting right beside him, your thigh touching his and your shoulder pressed into his side. With a few more pecks to your cheek and a couple to the top of your head, he faces forward and continues watching the movie.

"Damn, they got shut down?" He says, in disbelief.

"Mhm," you hum in response, unable to answer verbally due to the chips in your mouth.

"Oh shit, they're back," Toji says, taking in the remainder of the movie. "And Remy cooks without controlling Spaghetti?"

"Linguini," you correct, with a laugh. "But yeah. Linguini's a waiter, now, and Remy's a chef."

The artistic end credits begin to appear and you turn to look at Toji.

"So... what did you think?" You ask.

"That had more action than The Terminator," he jokes. "The old lady with the shotgun was trying take out Remy and his brother and then she tried to hit the entire colony of rats with gas."

You giggle as he goes in depth of what he remembers, as if to prove to you that he was watching.

"I liked that one too," he says, with a smirk. "Would definitely watch it, again."

"Good," you chirp, internally proud that you were able to show him something good. "Your turn," you say, offering him the remote.

"You go again," he says, grabbing another sour gummy to dodge the remote.

"Toji," you mumble. "You should choose something you like. I wouldn't mind watching something new, too."

In truth, Toji doesn't want to watch explosive, gore infested, action movies when he's with you. It's the only genre he's thoroughly explored apart from some comedy, so he leaves you to do the choosing of the movies and shows you watch together. It's a great way for him to give new things a chance, because even though it seems like he's always the one showing you how and loosening the tight grip you have on the shell that obscures you, he's constantly learning from you, as well.

"How 'bout this, baby... If you choose the next one, i'll choose the next three," he offers, squeezing the plush of your thigh.

"You promise?" You say, eyes darting from where his enormous hand rests on your leg, to his face.

"'Course. I don't lie to you," he says.

"Okay, then," you say, moving onto a different platform to find another movie.

"While I wait..." he mumbles, a soft smile curling on his lips. His hand moves from your thigh to your waist as he wraps his arm around you. He goes back to kissing the side of your face, soft, wet little smooches planted along your cheek and your jaw.

"Gorgeous girl," he hums, his voice a soft breath against your skin. "I'm dying to kiss those pretty lips."

Your lips curl as you continue skimming through the section of recommended movies. You can feel his eyes on you, tracing over the features of your face.

"Just a quick one and then i'll stop bugging you," he requests. "Please? You're teasing me without even trying."

"But I'm not even doing anything," you argue, with a small laugh.

"That's what i'm saying," he says, in agreement. "You're not even trying. You're just pretty like that. Makes me wanna kiss you 'til you can't breathe."

"What? You said a quick one, just a few seconds ago," you remind, your smile widening at the way he changed his mind about wanting the minimum of your affection.

"Yeah, but you know how greedy I am about you, mama. I want more and more of you, all the time." His gaze flits between your coy smile and the softness that lingers in your eyes. You haven't paused your skimming of the movies, but he knows you're staring at the screen, mindlessly, feeling his attention. "You want me to beg?"

"No," you instantly respond. It's the one thing you never allow him to do. He's too good to you, for you to make him beg. "You don't have to do that."

"So, kiss me, sweetheart," he says, shifting positions so that he's lying down on his side. He pats the pillow that cushions your lower back, signaling for you to lie down. Like the obedient thing you are for him, you click play on the random movie you landed on and set the remote aside, before lying down on your side, facing Toji.

"What movie did you decide on?" He asks, dragging his knuckles tenderly over your cheek.

"I didn't look at the name," you answer, softly.

"We can skip the intro, right?" He murmurs, smirking when he feels the warmth that reaches your face beneath his palm. His thumb strokes the skin of your cheek, back and forth as he keeps up with your gaze, even when it derails from his due to the tension in the moment.

"Mhm," you hum.

"Come here," he instructs, his voice low, almost a whisper. His leg goes between your legs, just sitting there to achieve more physical contact with you. It doesn't go further than the desire to be innocently caught up in you and feel you pressed against him.

The first kisses—if they can even be called that—are tentative and teasing. Lips merely ghosting each other, barely grasping contact. It's enough to have your heart thudding rapidly in your chest. You hear a warm, rumbled chuckle coming from Toji.

"Closer," Toji hums, his hand splaying on your back and pushing you forward into him.

Finally, your lips connect. The feeling is warm, like you're being held, securely, without any intention of being released. The sound of the movie in the background is a mere whir, unheard through the imaginary force field created around you and Toji. It's just you and him, close as can be, living like nothing else matters as long as you have this love. Through gentle caresses, one unsteady heartbeat and an even unsteadier one, things are good.

Toji swears he will never feel this content and at peace anywhere else. You have a way of making him feel like he is everything. The way your eyes twinkle when you see him, the way you bare your soul to him every time you smile—it's love. It's pure, unadulterated love. He's your friend, your lover, your confidant, and he will never settle for being anything less than those things.

With one more brush of your lips, you both put the kissing on hold and lay there, just a little bit breathless. His hand rests on your lower back, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"I love you so fucking much, doll. You know that?" He murmurs, his attention bouncing between your lips that won't stop calling for him to kiss them and the warmth in your eyes. "Fridays aren't just another day, anymore. Same for every day I get to see you or even just talk to you on the phone if we can't be together." A soft sigh escapes his nose, followed by a very brief pause. "You just know how to make things better, and I wish you would believe it because you feel that way too, not just because i'm telling you."

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

"No. I don't want that, baby. Tell me something else."

"I love you, Toji," you say, ensuring that you speak clearly so that he gets the important words you need him to hear. "I like being around you. You'll never know just how safe you make me feel, but I do want you to know that it goes past the physical aspect."

He smiles, the expression soft, not telling of the giddiness that just spread throughout his body. A soft hum, followed by a somewhat frustrated sounding groan, precedes you being pulled into his tight embrace. You can't help the giggles that eventually evolve into laughter that just spills from you when he bombards your face with kisses. His lips press against your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corners of your lips before he actually leaves a rapid barrage of pecks on your lips. Deep chuckles slip through his affectionate assault when you plant your hand on his chest, weakly pushing at him through the joyous sound of your laugh.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your entire body shaking through your nonstop laughter. Despite it being nighttime, Toji feels like he's kissing and cuddling with the sun. His cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much.

With one final, elongated kiss to your forehead, he relents and lets you catch your breath. Soft giggles continue to flow past your lips as you work on composing yourself.

"You drive me crazy, doll," he says, grinning at how your chest still slightly heaves. He could do this every night with you, in a shared bed, that is in your shared bedroom, in your shared home.

"Alright, let's see what this movie's about," he mutters, flipping onto his back. "Come here." By now, the two words are a staple to Toji's conversations with you, because he always wants you attached to him. He outstretches his arm, and waits for you to scooch over and lay your head on his chest. Once you settle in, his arm wraps around you, tightly.

As you both try to catch up on what is going on in the movie, you realize none of it is making sense. You think it might be futile to try and understand what is happening when it may have been explained during the intro, but neither you nor Toji mind it, and just continue watching through the confusion, because the intro to this movie was never going to be as good as the moment you shared during it.

[missdynamighttt]

Situationship with Bakugo 😵‍💫

a situationship with katsuki bakugo would be chaotic, intense, and incredibly frustrating.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who's not the type to do things halfway, so the fact that he won’t fully commit (or admit his feelings) means he’s fighting himself the entire time.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who takes care of you in little ways—grabbing your favorite snacks when he’s out, making sure you get home safe, memorizing all your food orders from various places—but if you call him out on it, he’ll scoff and say, “tch. don’t think too much about it. it was just on the way.”

KATSUKI BAKUGO, where he’s got no problem pulling you into his lap, throwing an arm around you, or grabbing your wrist to keep you from walking away during an argument, only for you to cuddle right back into his arms again. "you always come back anyway. might as well stay where you belong."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who will go out of his way to coincidentally be where you are, but if you ask, he’ll act like you’re the clingy one. "the hell are you lookin’ at me like that for? it’s a free fuckin’ country—you act like i’m followin’ you or somethin’. maybe you’re the one who can’t stay away."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, the man who kisses you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane but refuses to call it love. the man who pulls you into his arms after a rough day but won’t say he needs you. the man who gets pissed when other guys flirt with you, yet still won’t claim you as his. he knows they’ll never measure up to him.

but then, one day, you get tired of it. tired of the mixed signals, tired of feeling like you’re caught in something he refuses to name.

so you pull away. stop answering his late-night texts. stop letting him hold you like you’re his when he won’t even say the words. stop caring because what’s the point when he won’t admit he cares just as much?

at first, he acts like he doesn’t notice. like it doesn’t bother him. but it does.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who sees you laughing with someone else and his jaw tightens so hard it aches. he catches himself reaching for you before stopping short, fingers twitching like they’re fighting the habit of pulling you close. he sees you stop waiting for him and realizes, too late, that he never thought you would stop.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who stands at your doorway, all heat and tension, eyes burning like a wildfire ready to consume you whole. he doesn’t say a word at first, just grabs your wrist—gently, but firm enough that you can feel his frustration thrumming beneath his skin.

“you’re ignoring me,” he accuses, voice low and dangerous.

you lift an eyebrow. “i thought you didn’t care.”

his grip tightens just slightly before he lets go, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

he hates this. hates feeling out of control, hates that you make him feel anything at all.

but he’s done lying to himself.

“you think i don’t care? you think i don’t—” he cuts himself off, exhaling sharply through his nose.

you scoff, crossing your arms. "you sure as hell act like it. or is this just another one of your games?"

his jaw clenches. "it was never a damn game, sweets."

"then what was it, katsuki?" you throw your hands up. "because it sure as hell wasn't a relationship."

"you think i don’t—" he cuts himself off with a frustrated noise, pacing like he's physically fighting with himself. then he turns back to you. "damn it, i was trying!"

"trying what?" you challenge. "to string me along until you got bored? to keep me so that no one else could have me?"

"no! i was trying to—fuck—i was trying to figure it out! trying to—" he stops himself again, exhales hard through his nose, then looks at you, really looks at you. "trying to not fuck this up."

the words hang between you, heavy, aching.

your voice is softer now, but no less sharp. "and yet, you still did."

for a moment, he just stares at you. and then, before you can turn away, before you can push him out of your life completely, he closes the distance.

"no," he growls. "i'm not letting you walk away from me again."

you shake your head. "you already let me go."

"the hell i did!" his hands grip your arms, not to restrain but to hold on. "you think i don’t want you? that i don’t—"

he stops, sucks in a breath, and then—

he cups your face and kisses you. not like before. not out of desperation, not just because it’s easy. not like the heated, desperate, i need to feel something kisses he’s stolen in the past. this one is different.

raw, messy, everything he’s been too damn stubborn to say.

this one is real.

and when he pulls back, breathless, eyes blazing, he mutters, "you wanna know what this is? it’s me, fucking telling you, that i’m all in on this. now tell me you don’t want me, and i’ll walk."

you swallow, your own breath uneven. but you can’t say it. because you do. you always have.

and he knows it.

you stare at him, chest heaving, your lips still tingling from the force of his kiss. your mind is screaming at you to push him away, to remind him that he had months to figure this out, to tell him that it’s too late.

but your heart? your heart is beating so damn loud it drowns out the logic.

katsuki sees the hesitation, the war behind your eyes. he doesn’t rush you. for once, he doesn’t bulldoze his way through with brute force.

"you’re such a fucking asshole," you mutter, shoving at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

he exhales, a short, almost bitter laugh. “i know.”

you lick your lips, looking anywhere but at him. “you put me through hell, katsuki.”

“i know that too,” his voice is rough, but there’s no anger anymore. just quiet, painful honesty. he huffs, rubs a hand down his face before dropping it. “i was scared, sweets.”

you blink. katsuki bakugo, scared?

he sees the doubt flash across your face and scowls. “don’t. don’t look at me like that. like i don’t get to be scared of this—of you.”

your breath catches, and suddenly, the anger flares up again. “me? you were scared of me?”

“yeah,” he scoffs, eyes flicking between yours. "i ain't good at this shit, alright? but don't ever think for a second that i didn't want you."

your jaw tightens. "then why the hell did it take losing me for you to say it?"

something flickers across his face—regret, maybe. frustration. the words sound like they hurt to admit. "because i was a goddamn coward. because i didn't know how to have you without screwing it all up."

you stare at him, searching his face, waiting for the catch—for him to backtrack, for him to make another excuse. but he doesn’t.

instead, his grip on you softens, hands sliding down to your wrists, fingers brushing over your pulse. he watches you carefully, fingers grazing your wrist.

"tell me you don’t feel the same, and i’ll let you go. but if you do…” he leans in just slightly, gaze flickering to your lips. “then stop fighting me and let me be yours.”

and damn it—damn him—because you do. you always have.

your breath is unsteady, your chest tight as you stare at him. he looks like he’s ready for a fight, ready to prove himself, but you’re not making this easy for him.

he doesn’t deserve easy.

you step back, but he follows, unwilling to let space grow between you again. "if you really mean it, you’re gonna have to work for it."

his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say that. then, he huffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "fine. i will."

"you don’t even know what that means."

"doesn’t matter," his eyes burn with determination. "i’ll figure it out."

you study him, searching for hesitation, doubt—any sign that he’ll walk away the moment things get tough. but all you see is conviction, a stubborn resolve that’s so him it almost makes your chest ache.

still, you’re not going to let him think this is some quick fix.

"no more mixed signals," your voice is firm. "no more acting like i don’t matter just because you're scared of your own feelings."

his jaw clenches, but he nods. "yeah."

"and no more kissing me like i’m yours and then pretending it doesn’t mean anything."

his eyes darken slightly. "that one was never pretend."

you don’t give in just yet. you let the silence stretch, let him sit in it, let him feel the weight of what he’s asking for.

then, finally, you nod. "alright. then we’ll see."

from the moment you demanded he work for your trust, he treats it like the most important damn mission of his life.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who starts showing up—not just in the ways he used to, sneaking into your life with little gestures he refused to acknowledge. no, this time, he makes it clear.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who texts you good morning. goodnight. little things throughout the day that show you he’s thinking about you. "did you eat? i know you don’t like the coffee at work, so i left one for you on your desk, call me if you need a ride."

KATSUKI BAKUGO, where at work, he swings by your office under the pretense of “checking in,” but you catch the way his eyes linger, the way his fingers tap against your desk like he’s resisting the urge to touch you.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, when he knows you’re out with friends, he doesn’t pull the usual possessive coincidentally running into you routine. he lets you have your space but makes sure you get home safe. "text me when you’re back."

but the real proof is in the way he listens. the way he remembers.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, who recalls things you mentioned offhandedly weeks ago—your favorite dessert from that bakery downtown, the dumb movie you wanted to watch but never got around to. one night, you mention offhandedly that you’ve been stressed, and the next day, he drags you out of your apartment. "c’mon. you need a break."

you expect something explosive, something him—but instead, he takes you to a quiet spot, lets you rant, doesn’t rush you. just listens.

and when you look at him, skeptical, waiting for him to make some kind of sarcastic remark, he just shrugs. "told you i was serious."

he never demands anything from you. never pushes you for an answer.

but one night, after another long day, after another moment where he reminds you, without words, just how much he’s changed—how much he’s trying—you finally give in.

you reach for his hand.

it’s tentative, just a light brush of your fingers against his. he looks down, then back up at you, something unreadable in his expression.

you squeeze lightly, voice quiet. "okay."

he blinks. "okay?"

you take a breath. "i believe you."

and for the first time in a long time, he smiles. really smiles.

then, with all the patience he’s learned just for you, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"’bout fuckin' time."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ hi!! a little something to publish bc i feel i havent been posting much like i've been before? js burnout from school and shit, also indulging my free time😭 hope you guys enjoy💜💜

[shujichii]

your husband who loved calling you his wife— even outside of moments of necessity.

and the most fascinating part? he wasn't even aware of the fact how often he did it. he knew he did say it, but he wasn't aware of the fact how often he did. those two words, simple yet undeniably laced together with love and reverence, often tumbled out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

"my wife would like these flowers," he had said to the wholesome elderly florist when he was about to buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers before returning home to you, his wallet— which had a small polaroid of you in it, by the way— already in hand.

"my wife did mention this the other day, now that i think about it." he had said to his friend who was rambling about the latest trending internet gossip.

"for my wife. i trust there isn't an issue?" he had simply said to the cashier upon noticing the way they lifted an eyebrow at the grocery basket filled to the brim with your favorite snacks, to which they gave a solemn, approving nod at his answer. good husband.

"my wife went out to run an errand, but she'll be back soon." he had even said to your best friend when they came to visit you, to which they replied with a very teasing smirk; "you could just say her name, y'know."

"a reservation for my wife and i, please."

"sorry, my wife is waiting for me. i must take my leave now."

"yes, that's my wife— i'm quite proud of her."

"I can take it from here, sweetheart. can't have my beautiful wife overworking herself now, can i?"

and the list went on.

and yet, you didn't mind it. not at all— you had no reason to. your heart always did that funny little flip whenever he'd call you his wife the way he did, the corner of your lips never failing to curl into a smile. he would always say it so naturally— so genuinely, like those words were etched onto his soul for your very existence alone. and you certainly didn't miss the way his tone would sound a touch softer everytime he referred to you, like you needed to be spoken of with the utmost care and gentleness.

so, one day, you decided it was about time you struck.

"you call me that a lot."

his hands— which were reaching for the kitchen towel to dry his hands with after washing the dishes, yes, the dishes because chores are shared in this household— paused midway. he turned his head to look at you, where you had been perched on the counter, your legs swaying ever so slightly.

"call you what?" he inquired with a small tilt of his head, reaching for the towel at last and patting his hands dry.

"you know, your wife."

he immediately caught onto the teasing glint in your eyes, yet; it was unmistakably edged with a hint of affection.

for a moment, he just stood there wordlessly, blinking once, then twice, his brain taking its sweet, sweet time to allow your words to sink in. you, on the other hand, were practically straining your eyes to catch on any shifts in his expression or posture.

and then, you caught it; the faint reddening of the tips of his ears. he subtly cleared his throat, and your smile stretched into a grin.

alas, that dazzling curve of your lips disappeared as soon as it appeared when the man suddenly approached you in a swift few strides, standing between your legs and pressing his palms on either side of the counter which you sat on to cage you in.

you blinked.

"i do, yes."

he didn't even try to deny it. well, he didn't have a reason to. you were his wife, after all. where was the lie in that? and of course, he was absolutely proud of it.

then, he leaned in slightly, his tone lowering. "unless you prefer i stop calling you that?"

oh, now he was the one with that mischievous little twinkle in his eyes. inwardly, you faltered at the sudden boldness of his actions, your fingertips twitching against the surface of the counter. but outwardly? two can play the game.

then, with a deceptively sweet smile, you tilted your head, shot your hand forward and yanked on the collar of his shirt with force— his body jerking towards you.

"not at all," you smirked, inching closer. "i can't say i mind when my sweet husband calls me that."

his confidence faltered for a moment. you were about to internally celebrate your small victory until one of his hands slid up from the counter, now resting on your hips, his fingertips lightly pressing into your skin.

".. let's hear that again."

let's just say, ever since that faithful encounter, "my husband" had also started slipping out.

and every time? it got to him. oh, it definitely did.

(not my second fluff also taking place in the kitchen lol. i promise it's gonna be different next time.)

♡ nanami kento, geto suguru, fushiguro megumi (jjk), zayne, sylus (lads), wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, diluc, ayato (genshin), jiyan, xiangli yao (wuwa), jugram haschwalth (self indulgence because i love him.), kuchiki byakuya, ishida uryuu, ishida ryuken (bleach), anyone else you'd like.

[rafes-slut]

Pillow princess

Summary: you were always pillow princess and now that he makes you go on top you whining about it and making him pisses until he takes mater back in his hands

Warnings: Smut, angst, power play, manipulation, rough sex, whining, frustration, control, inexperienced reader, explicit content.

----

You’ve always loved the way Rafe took control in the bedroom. He was dominant, always making sure you were more than satisfied while you simply laid back, enjoying the ride. It had always been the same: you were the pillow princess, and he was the one doing all the work. Not that you minded, though. Rafe seemed to love it, always guiding you through everything, his hands all over you, making sure you didn’t have to do anything but feel good.

But tonight? Tonight was different. Rafe had made it clear before that he was getting bored of the same routine. He wanted something new—something that would force you to do more.

“Get on top,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he pulled you closer. You looked at him, surprised, not sure if you heard him right. He hadn’t said anything like that before, but you knew better than to question him. The way his eyes darkened, the way his jaw tightened, told you that this wasn’t a suggestion.

You complied, climbing on top of him, straddling his hips as he leaned back against the headboard, watching you intently. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. It was always so much easier when he did everything for you.

“Come on, baby,” Rafe smirked, his eyes flashing with impatience. “I want you to work for it. Don’t just sit there.”

But you didn’t move. You just stared at him, feeling a little awkward, unsure how to take control. He was always the one to set the pace, always the one making you feel good. Now, with him watching you, expecting something from you, you felt exposed.

Rafe’s patience was wearing thin. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to having to wait for you to do anything.

“Come on,” he said again, this time his tone a little sharper, a little less patient. “I said, work for it.”

You tried to move, but it was slow. You were whining under your breath, frustrated with how hard it was to take control, how unnatural it felt. Rafe didn’t help you. He wasn’t guiding you, wasn’t making it easier. His hands were resting behind his head, relaxed, waiting for you to do something. You could see his jaw tightening with every second that ticked by, his frustration mounting.

“Stop whining,” he snapped, his voice cold and harsh. “You’re not even trying. What the hell is this?”

You bit your lip, trying again, but it was clear you weren’t putting in any real effort. You were too comfortable in your role as the one who just got to enjoy everything without lifting a finger. Rafe wasn’t having it tonight.

He grabbed your hips suddenly, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you down harder, making you gasp. “Move,” he commanded, his voice laced with anger now. “Do it. Work for it like I asked.”

You whimpered, your body still tense, the unfamiliar role making it harder than you expected. Rafe’s gaze was harsh, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you struggle.

"Is this too hard for you?" he mocked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're so used to me doing all the work, aren't you? You’re not even trying to make this good."

You couldn’t find your rhythm. The pressure of his eyes on you, the expectations weighing down on you—it was all too much. Your movements were half-hearted, slow and uncoordinated, making Rafe’s patience run out faster than you expected.

With a frustrated growl, he sat up, still holding your hips firmly, but now he was guiding you with more force, making your movements sharper, harder. You gasped as he took over just enough to make sure you weren’t slacking, but not enough to make it feel like the usual routine.

“God,” he hissed, pulling you down harder against him. “Stop being lazy.”

The more you whined, the more pissed off he got. His grip on your hips tightened, forcing you to move in a way that made your body ache in all the right places—but it wasn’t enough to please him. You weren’t working hard enough for it, and Rafe wasn’t going to give you any slack. His face twisted with annoyance as he glared at you, his body completely still now, making it clear he wasn’t going to help you anymore.

“I’m not your fucking pillow,” he muttered under his breath, his voice colder than it had ever been.

You tried again, your body moving with less hesitation this time, but it still wasn’t enough. The more effort you put in, the more frustrated Rafe became with you. He was seething now, the anger clear in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let you off the hook.

“Fuck this,” he growled, before flipping you onto your back, pinning you under him with a force that made your head spin. “I’m done letting you get away with this.”

Rafe didn’t wait for you to say anything, didn’t wait for you to catch your breath. He took control again, but now, there was a hardness in his touch, an edge to the way he moved, that sent shockwaves through your body. He was angry, yes—but also determined to make you learn that when he wanted something, you better damn well give it to him.

As he moved above you, taking what he wanted from your body, you finally understood. The effort. The work. Rafe wasn’t just about taking care of you anymore—he wanted you to show him that you could give him something in return. And now, with his frustration boiling over, he wasn’t letting you get away with being lazy. Not this time.

[beigebeignett]

I do love angst but I'm also a sucker for happy endings and re-incarnation, so here's my take on what happens (decades/centuries) after:

The sphinx and her lover: reimagined

Imagine that the sphinx ends up dying, as all living creatures do, and ends up reincarnated as a very smart yet terrifying young scientist. 

Her passion in her fields equals her distaste for other people; especially men who try to undermine her knowledge and talent at dates. So, she sets up a strategy to determine who is worthy of her time.

If you want to get a date with me, solve my riddles, wrong answers will get you blocked. 

There, done, she thinks. If that doesn't make men stop bombarding her with messages, she doesn't know what will (well, she can think of a few others, but she'd rather not spend more time and energy than she's already spending on such a silly matter). 

And so, she starts getting less messages, with only some men and women being brave (or foolish) enough to try and chat with her. 

The ones that try to answer her riddles don't usually last long; getting the second or third wrong. Some don't even last the first one; those are usually the most bothersome, acting as if she has no right to choose her partner, as if she's being too ruthless (when she'd been honest since the beginning). 

Weeks pass before she gets another message. And so, she does as she always does. This time though, something's different. He keeps getting her riddles right, over, and over, and over. 

How curious, she thinks. How curious indeed, when he asks her if he could try asking her a riddle. She scoffs at her phone, partially amused, and agrees. 

She gets the answer right, of course, so he keeps asking riddle after riddle and she does the same, as if they were playing a game of pass the ball. The riddles get increasingly difficult, and the time those three dots stay floating on the chat grows longer as well; but she doesn't mind. She can wait a bit more for this one. Plus, while she waits, she can get lab reports done instead of worrying about finding new questions to ask that man. 

Sometimes days go by without her seeing any new riddles for him; sometimes a week passes before he gets asked another one. 

She must be busy, he thinks. He must have other things to do, she assumes. 

Between riddles, they start to talk about more mundane things: his job, her career, his essay on ancient Greek marriage practices; her paper on nuclear magnetic resonance in chemical engineering… He sends her pictures of his cat napping on top of his dictionaries and encyclopaedias, basking in the sun; and in turn she sends him pictures of boards filled with equations and pictures of filled excel tables.

Soon, they start chatting more, asking riddles occasionally when they’re both tired of talking about themselves. 

She learns that he’s an Archaeology major, and he finds out that she’s already getting her doctorate; something about chemical engineering, she explains. He’s fascinated by the topic, asking her a million questions about what it’s like, her doctorate subject, how did she choose her career path… And in turn she asks him about archaeology; why did he choose to spend his life studying the past, what is it that he enjoys the most about his field of work… 

They agree to meet up at the local library two days later. 

Almost a foot taller than him; that’s how tall she is. She’s waiting for him sitting near the entrance, browsing through architecture magazines when he finds her. He smiles and warmly waves at her, formally introducing himself, and extends his hand for her to shake; so she stands up as well to take it and introduce herself as well. That’s when they notice.

Even though he’s not short himself (considering the standards) at 5'9", at almost 7 feet tall she towers over him. Their aesthetics seem to clash a bit as well: his outfit is quite simple: some basic jeans and a nice cream wool jumper paired up with some sneakers, and hers consists of a pleated red skirt and a shirt paired with black knee-high boots to combat the cold. Out of the chat, and now face to face, their conversation flows easily; they exchange book recommendations, and of course they ask each other some riddles to pass the time. 

Overall, their first date goes well. Better than she expected, honestly, which is why when he asks her for a second date, she agrees.

To be continued...?

[ipushhimback]

this… is a french braid

pairing: max verstappen x leclerc!reader warnings: none words: 850?

summary: who could have known that a braid can cause so much drama

It was the morning of the Dutch Grand Prix. You were standing in front of your daughter’s suitcase as you showed her the outfits you packed, none of which Emily agreed to wear.

“But look, chérie, this is such a pretty dress”, you said hoping that your daughter would finally agree to wear something.

“No. It is not. I want the one Uncle Charles gave me!”, your daughter pouted.

Sadly you knew that Em was stubborn. She wouldn’t just agree to wear something she didn’t want to.

“I don’t have Charles dress here… Please. Just wear one of these dresses… Or do you want to wear a jeans? With one of the shirts Papa got for you?”, you asked again, praying Emily would agree to the tiny Red Bull shirts Max got her just a few days ago.

The five-year-old scrunched her nose as she thought about it before agreeing.

“Ok. But I want pretty hair”, she said as she looked up at you.

“A braid?”, you asked as you pulled out the little jeans and Red Bull shirt for your daughter.

Emily nodded. “The pretty braid you always do. The not-just-on-the-bottom-braid.”

“You mean a French Braid?”, you asked while helping your daughter in the shirt.

“Yes. The magic braid that doesn’t look ugly after I run very fast.”

You just nodded as you grabbed the comb from the suitcase and tried to gently detangle your daughter’s curls. Methodically, you parted her hair and placed one strand over another while you listened to Emily rambling about how Uncle Charles promised her that Alex would bring Leo with her and Uncle Arthur had promised her to bring her chocolate to the track.

“And Uncle Charlie said he will give me an own car so I can drive around alone-“

“Charles said what?”, you asked shocked. “A car?”

“Yes, a car. A red one. Like his car”, Emily said dead serious.  

You just stared at her through the mirror, deciding that you’ll have to talk to Charles about that… car for your five year old daughter.

You finished the braid by wrapping a small elastic around the hair.

“Such a pretty girl”, you said smiling which made Emily giggle.

“You are pretty, too, Maman”, Em said and you had to admit, not even a compliment of Max could compare to your daughter complimenting you.

“Thank you, chérie. Now, let’s go. Papa is probably already waiting for us.”

“YES! Can I show him my hair then?!”, Emily said excitedly.

“Of course you can. Can we leave now? Is your outfit good? Braids don’t hurt?”, you asked praying that everything would be good so they could finally leave.

Emily thought for a moment but nodded eventually, making you sigh in relief.

“Amazing. Then get your backpack, chérie.”

—-

Only half an hour later they arrived at the paddock and as soon as Em saw Max she started running towards him.

“PAPA! Look at my pretty hair. Maman did a braid! The magic braid!” The five-year-old turned her head so Max could look at her hair.

“Wow! Such a pretty braid, Em!”, Max exclaimed before he looked closer.

“Liefje, this”, he looked at you while pointing at the braid, “is a French Braid…”

You looked absolutely confused. “Yes? It is the one your daughter requested after not wanting to wear anything…? Is there a problem?”

Max now looked like he might start crying. Seriously, it was the exactly same face, as Emily’s before she throws a tantrum.

“We are at the Dutch Grand Prix! She… she cannot have a French Braid! We… we are Dutch! My baby girl is Dutch!”

You looked up in the sky, pinching the bridge of your nose, while telling yourself it wouldn’t be worth it to start yelling now. After the drama with Emily not wanting to wear anything, your nerves were already used up.

“Mon cœur. I really really love you. But a damn French Braid does not mean she isn’t Dutch anymore…”

Max pouted. “But-“

“No!”, you exclaimed before you could stop yourself. “Max. Next time I will gladly let you braid her hair but today, please just accept that she has a French Braid. Ok?”

Max still looked sad but nodded. “I guess your Maman chose France over the Netherlands”, he whispered in Emily’s ear.

“But Maman is from Monaco”, his daughter said confused.

“Close enough”, Max sighed. “Tomorrow, when it is race day, I will braid your hair, ok? And we will choose a pretty dress.”

—-

The next morning you had the time of your life. You were sitting on the balcony of your hotel room while Max was in the room, trying to get Emily to wear a dress.

“Baby girl, please! This is so pretty! I beg you! Please just wear it. I am sure Uncle Charles will love it!”

You have been hearing Max beg for around half an hour now, even considered going inside to help him. But honestly, you were enjoying the sun and your coffee way too much. Max will handle it…

a/n: this was an idea i had in the middle of the night… i hope it is good hahah

taglist: @strawberryy-kiwii / @a-distantdreamer / @requiemforthepoets / @martygraciesversion381 / @l-vroom4 / @comicalivy / @sid-is-gr8 / @picklesbuddy93 / @sadiemack9 / @f1fantasys / @cloud-55 / @sunny44 / @widow-cevans / @gigicisneros / @mbioooo0000 / @sinfully-yoursss / @bravo-delta-eccho / @rue-t / @mayax2o07 / @alexanderachillesisgay / @maviesamour / @suhchenjun / @pippyth3hippy / @sweate-r-weathe-r / @joannaln4 / @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy / @aleatorio1234 

[a-compass-without-a-needle]

This is what happened after 3.1 isn't it?

[bixbythemartian]

the problem with the bathroom wasn't so much that it was ugly, the thread was actually fairly positive and helpful at first, with people who at least didn't hate his design and were cheering him on, giving him advice (please note that SA does filter swearing if you don't have an account, so loving is fucking and poopoo is shit and drat is damn and so on)

Like, the bathroom isn't to my taste exactly, and the gravel surround for the tub always looked deeply uncomfortable to step on, and like a mold magnet, but the colors are fine enough in theory, and he was getting what seemed to be quality materials. it's distinctive and striking, it's a look, I never thought it was particularly ugly. I don't like that particular shade of red, but I know that's a matter of taste. I could do it in green and be happy with it, tbh.

the problem was that this guy was a DIY guy who made at least one REAL BIG OOPSIES and someone said:

I started writing up a big post but I don't think it will be constructive. Basically the jist is this: You've done a really bad thing and are making some choices that will have serious consequences. I suggest stopping here for a bit and thinking things over. Also ask lots of questions and listen to what alot of people are about to say here.

and he responded fairly poorly, a big old 'well the internet just likes to be mean' thing and insisted that things were fine, and that just because something 'wasn't up to code' doesn't mean it won't work, people let code violations slide all the time, it's not a big deal, blah blah blah.

he continued to be like 'oh I can deal with internet hate' while kind of poopooing the idea that he'd made that big of a whoopsie, and then everybody he called to get help for this was mysteriously not returning his calls (he had a big rant about how all contractors just took his money and made stuff he didn't want)

and it went on and on from there. at one point, being roasted for the design of the bathroom, he insisted it was to appeal to women, because women had an 'unfair' amount of influence over home buying, and brought out some really gross misogyny as more women chimed in to tell him he was incorrect

like the thread at SA could have been him responding 'aw, beans' and getting people in to help and then continue the DIY thread and it would have been fine, and wouldn't have been preserved in the comedy goldmine for posterity, almost nobody would remember it

but he kept throwing out shit like 'if you're not going to be CONSTRUCTIVE then don't criticize me!' because he wasn't acknowledging that people weren't being mean to be mean, that 'no, stop, wait, don't!' isn't criticism, it is an attempt to arrest your forward momentum on making a really bad mistake!

and he just kept doubling down, which is just bait for places like Something Awful.

that's more why the bathroom is notorious, although it's become 'look at this ugly bathroom', which really wasn't the original point (although that was part of the thread much later on down the road), it was more of a 'get a load of this guy' situation.

what is the child annihilating zipline

in 2010, a camp counselor goon logged on to the somethingawful forums asking for help with the zipline he build from scratch, and with no engineering knowledge, that didn’t seem to be working right. when he tested it with a sandbag, it continued to gather speed during the entirety of the 143 foot drop (19 degree slope) until it slammed into the wooden platform at the bottom at a speed of 65mph, presumably creating a child paste that would have to be scraped off to be sent home. there were pictures.

[jellofish-plant]

Sleep-Talk Confessions

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Summary: Jason has always been a light sleeper, so when he hears you mumbling in the dead of night, he’s instantly on alert. But when he catches what you’re actually saying his name he can’t resist teasing you about it the next morning. Unfortunately for you, he has zero plans of letting you live it down.

[Masterlist]

Jason wakes up to the sound of his own name, quiet and slurred in the dark.

At first, he tenses out of habit, brain wired for danger. But then he realizes the voice is yours soft, sleepy, barely above a whisper. His heartbeat slows as he turns his head to look at you, curled up beside him, face relaxed in the glow of the bedside lamp he forgot to turn off.

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” he murmurs, though you’re far too deep under to hear him.

But he hears you just fine.

“Mmm… Jason…”

His lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk. Oh, this is golden. He props himself up on his elbow, watching you with amused curiosity.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he whispers, just to see if you’ll respond.

You don’t answer, just sigh softly, shifting closer to the warmth of his body. Jason chuckles under his breath, pressing a light kiss to your forehead before settling back down. Oh, he is absolutely going to have fun with this in the morning.

When you wake up, Jason’s already grinning like a cat who got into the cream. You rub the sleep from your eyes, immediately suspicious. “What?”

His smirk deepens. “Sleep well?”

“…Yeah?”

“Dream about me?”

You blink. “What?”

Jason leans in, voice low, teasing. “You talk in your sleep, you know.”

Your stomach drops. “I—wait—”

“Mmm, Jason…” he mimics, throwing in a dramatic sigh for effect.

“Oh my God.”

“Oh yeah, you definitely said my name, babe.” He flops onto his back, hands behind his head like he’s savoring this moment. “Kinda sweet, actually. You dreaming about me, sweetheart?”

Your face burns as you groan, burying it in your hands. “I hate you.”

Jason just laughs, pulling you into his arms. “Nah, you love me. You literally said so in your sleep.”

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy

@not-herexo

@a-brilliante-mariposa

[enzosbabyangel]

৻ꪆ Thinking about being a drunk mess ‘n all whiny ‘n needy at a party with Theo…

cw: if you don’t understand the position i’m explaining look at the image 😅, whiny!reader, blowjob, you have an oral fixation, praise, dynamic could be icky to some people

“Teddy pleasee,” You pout from your spot on the floor. Your legs bent and spread wide. Your hand tugging at the clothing that pressed tightly against your dripping cunt. You looked utterly pathetic, eyes all red from the alcohol in your system, hair spread out on the dirty bathroom floor and your outfit disheveled.

“Can’t even wait until we get home, mi amor?” Theo teased. Ignoring the way his cock strained against the fabric of his jeans at the sight of you on the bathroom floor, looking so utterly desperate for his cock.

“Nuh uh..” You pout, squeezing your legs together and wrapping your arm around his leg. “Need your cock too bad to wait, are you really gonna make me wait?” Your pout grows if possible, furrowing your brows upwards and giving him puppy dog eyes.

Theo sighs, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back against the back of the toilet, smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he chuckled in amusement. You always got so cute and desperate when you were drunk, he loved it. It made him feel needed in a way.

“Now i suppose that would be too mean wouldn’t it?” He cocked his head to the side, raising a brow slightly. Another chuckle almost of bafflement and amusement escaped his lips as he watched you so quickly get up onto your knees, eyes sparkling with happiness as your pout disappeared and you frantically nodded.

“Then i guess i’ll let you. Can’t be mean to my girl.” He murmured, bringing a hand to gently brush hair out of your face. “Go on.”

You wasted no time, hands immediately moving to the zipper of his jeans and tugging. Within just a couple seconds his cock was free and in your mouth. Happy moans spilling from your lips while you desperately nodded your head up and down his length, cocking your head to the side slightly and looking up at Theo in awe and lust.

“Fuck.. look at you. All content now, hm?” Theo let out through a moan, looking at you with hazy, lazy eyes while his hand moved to entangle itself with your hair. Smirking to himself as you nod. “Yeah… keep doing that like the good girl you are and i’ll cum within seconds..”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.