#(especially after she spent all that time doing press saying

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

when jungkook finally pulls away, the world feels quieter, as though it’s holding its breath. his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[bittcrsuite]

jack only has a moment to process aspen’s apology before he’s being honest with her. at first, it feels as though she was lured into the superstar’s car only for him to spew a halfhearted apology at her. all signs were telling jack to slam her walls back up, to shut aspen out before her vulnerability is picked at like a fresh wound. working in the comedy world, jack had to learn early to have a thick skin. one of the first lessons she learned was that not everyone was going to like you, no matter how hard you tried to make them laugh. there could be a million reasons an audience member doesn’t resonate with your set. she was used to rejection — she just wasn’t used to wanting something so badly that the rejection stung this much. 

still… it was aspen. the same man who asked for her number immediately after man down hosted friday night frenzy. who spent his saturday nights with jack watching shitty horror movies when she was too tired to go out. besides the kiss situation, aspen had been a good friend to her. it was rare to find someone in the industry who she could drop her walls around. jack was so close to dropping them around him, it wouldn’t be fair to seal them back up over an impulsive choice that he’s clearly sorry for.

between his apology and the way aspen is talking about his ex, jack nearly misses the confession that leaves his lips. i don’t want it to be complicated anymore. she lets out a sigh of relief, eyes shifting from the line of cars in front of them to the auburn-haired man beside her. she hated complicated. jack loved routine — she liked to wake up and know what the day held for her. when complications got in the way, it only led to her second guessing herself. it could be something as simple as craft services running out of her daily oatmeal. the entire night had been beyond complicated and the idea of uncomplicating it sounded like a dream. 

jack turned in her seat, back pressed against the door as aspen began saying everything she wanted to hear on the trampoline. it was her turn to stare silently as the other spoke, basking in the confession she’d been longing for since she noticed her intense crush. “you meant it?” she repeated his words back to him, unable to form any other thought. it felt like she was in a dream — one that felt too real, like she’d wake up at any moment and come crashing back to reality. 

she knew she couldn’t stay mad forever, especially now that she held aspen’s apology in her hands. it was as though he was holding out his heart, hopeful that jack wouldn’t shatter it to a million pieces. there were a few ways she could react. she could try and salvage as much of their friendship as she could by brushing the entire night under the rug. or, she could take the risk and add a few more complications to her life. opening her heart up to someone, for one. never knowing exactly where she stood, for another. though she was scared, her heart kept reminding her of who she was dealing with. it was aspen — one of the only people who knew her and stuck around. he was unlike any man she knew — he wouldn’t just disappear out of thin air or leave in the night. 

“that was stupid — purely because of the location. talk about shitty timing. what am i supposed to do now? sit and think about the fact that you want to kiss me for the next fifteen minutes?” she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. she just kept staring, even when the cars in front of them slowly lurched forward. “it’s not like anyone would see us with the ridiculous tint you put on your windows.” she pointed out, tapping on the window for good measure. jack knew it was for privacy reasons, but when she was nervous, she resorted to comedy. 

“put the car in park.” jack instructed, removing her balled up fist from her lap. she loosened her grip, covering aspen’s hand with her own on the gearshift. “and kiss me again, aspen.”

he internally groans as he pulls up behind the slew of cars lined up in the drive-thru. it's his fault, because he insisted on bringing her here. maybe this is fate's way of punishing him, eternally damned to be stuck in the confines of his car with jack forever. this must be his purgatory.

❛ i’m  sorry. ❜  he  says,  because  he  realizes  he  never  actually  said  it.  listens to her intently, her  words  goading  him  along  and  leading  him  to  believe  that  he’s  special.  because  who  else  deserves  to  be  adored  by  jack  if  not  him?  pink  lips  press  into  a  lined  smile,  pensive,  because  aspen  cares  about  her,  too  ----  in  the  same  exact  way,  he’s  just  too  afraid  of  himself  to  outright  admit  that,  too  afraid  to  admit  that  he  harbors  a  god-forbidden  overwhelming  urge  to  kiss  her  in  this  moment,  too.  and  that  it  really  has  nothing  to  do  with  his  ex  anymore.

really,  he  just  wants  to  kiss  her.

❛ you  want  me  to  be  honest  with  you, jack? ❜  a  beat, shifts in his seat to face her completely.  ❛ i  don’t  know  what  i  want.  i  don’t  know  what  i  want  from  her.  i  don’t  think  i  want  to  get  back  with  her,  anymore. ❜  and  there  it  is,  the  second  most  important  revelation  he’s  been  keeping  himself  from  realizing  all  night  ( the  first  being  his  overwhelming  feelings  for  jack,  of  course. )  ❛ just.  seeing  her  with  someone  else,  the  way  the  break  up  went,  and  other  things ---- ❜  his  eyes  linger  on  her,  as  if  he’s  signifying  something, hoping his eyes say the words he can't possibly bring himself to say in this moment.  ❛ everything’s  so  complicated. ❜  he  doesn’t  do  complicated,  he  makes  things  simple.  complications  bring  mayhem.  exhibit  a:  aspen  kissing  jack  in  front  of  everyone.  exhibit  b:  aspen  hopelessly  trying  to  shove  his  feelings  for  jack  back  down  his  throat.  that  one’s  happening  now.

❛ i  don’t  want  it  to  be  complicated  anymore. ❜

he  says  it  like  jack  holds  the  god-willing  answer  to  everything.  like  she  could  be  his  everything.  says  it  like  he’s  not  the  obstacle  holding  himself  from  her,  says  it  like  he’s  not  hopelessly  trying  to  hold  himself  back  from  something  he  knows  he  doesn’t  really  deserve.

blue  eyes  take  in  the  solemn  spirit  that  has  settled  over  her  features.  truly  begins  to  realize  the  extent  of  his  actions,  as  if  he  already  wasn’t  painfully  aware  before.  and  he  realizes  something  heart-wrenching  in  this  moment:

he  would  kiss  her  again  if  he  has  to.  he  will  kiss  her  again  if  he  has  to.  and  maybe  this  night  will  end  without  her  truly  knowing  the  extent  of  his  feelings  for  her.  maybe  he  is  fearful  enough  to  let  that  happen.  for  the  sake  of  keeping  things  simple.  for  the  sake  of  being  a  no-complications  man.  can  he  really  do  that?  ignore the silence that has filled in the cracks of his heart? allow  himself  to  lay  down  flat  on  the  ground  for  jack  to  walk  right  over  him  and  pass  him  by?  can  he  allow  his  heart  to  break  more  than  it  has?  chip  away  at  the  tiny  pieces  until  they  break  apart  into  even  tinier  ones,  until  the  once  beating  vessel  transforms  into  smithereens?

no.  he  cannot.

❛ ---- when  i  said  that  this  is  doing  something  to  me  too. . . ❜  words  are  spoken  at  the  slow moving line of cars ahead of them,  emotionless.  can't even will himself to look her in the eyes as he's saying this. ❛ i  meant  it. ❜

❛ i know it sounds dumb and you probably don't believe me because i brushed you off on the trampoline. and honestly? i think that was the smartest choice. ❜ gaze falls on her once more, hopelessly trying to gauge her reaction, needs to fix the mess he's created head on. ❛ what i'm doing now is stupid. and i wanna kiss you again, just ---- when there's no one around. and i should probably shut up because i have to be stuck in this car with you for like the next fifteen minutes. ❜ yeah, purgatory.

[ssaalexblake]

jodie ‘method acting’ whittaker growing another heart to play the role of a two hearted alien is what puts her at no.1 in the doctor actor competition and that’s that. 

[teapartyprincess4two]

On Stream- M. Sturniolo

pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

—

Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.

The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.

Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.

Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.

You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.

So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.

Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.

This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.

Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”

After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.

“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.

A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.

“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.

“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.

Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.

“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.

“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”

You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.

“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”

The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”

A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.

“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”

“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.

“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”

“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.

Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”

Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”

“Not Fortnite.”

“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?

“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”

Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”

“Don’t push it,” you laugh.

Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.

“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”

Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”

“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.

“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.

“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”

“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.

When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.

“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.

“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.

“And it took you that long?”

“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”

“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.

“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”

He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.

Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.

All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚

- L.A.M.B🪽💝

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @rxeae @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow @sturnstvr @inkyray-deactivated20240729 @stasiesturn @poopiepantsworld @cvnt4matty @eleanore2204 @jhutchismyl0verb0y

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[missnxthingg]

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes:  I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.3

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, weed, tattoo artist ellie, smut, reader is not a total pillow princess, swearing, ellie flicking joint scene but different

a/n - sorry for the late upload, I tried finishing this yesterday but it just wasn't flowing very well. not my best work in terms of sentence flow etc. and it was actually my first time writing smut like this which was uhh a funny experience but yeah I hope u like it ;)

The next week after the night at the club had gone by in a frenzy. Dina and Jesse had both followed you on instagram and shown up for their drinks on the house as early as Monday. It made you happy because you felt they genuinely liked and wanted to spend time with you, especially Dina, who loved to chat and who also listened when you talked. She’d asked you to stop by her workplace too, which you did on Wednesday and were met with excited talking and lots of book recommendations. You two were becoming quick friends.

As for Ellie, you didn’t see her again after that Friday night, which made you increasingly less hopeful of anything happening between the two of you. Had her staring at you on the dance floor meant anything at all? Was it just her being pissed at you? If it was, hadn’t it been a strange moment for her to choose to express it?

You didn’t dare ask Dina. She had most likely caught on to you and you did not want to stoke the flames. Yes, she was nice, but she knew Ellie longer and as such was more loyal to her. You didn’t want to risk her mentioning your questions.

It was hard keeping it all in, especially because your mind couldn’t help wondering to your neighbor every so often. Her freckles, her tattoos, how her hair looked with the top half tied back. The way she had gazed at you that night.

You were almost at end of your Friday shift and anxious to go home when Dina walked in beaming. She came up to the cash register and leaned her hands on the counter, looking from the register to you.

“Hey there.”

“Hi.” You grinned. “What are you so exited about?”

“Well, me, Jesse and Ellie were thinking we wanted to do something today, but we were all too spent to go out. So Ellie suggested we have a smoke sesh at hers. I remember you told me that your shift ends at six today, so I’ve come to get you. What do you think?”

You bit your lip. You’d told Dina about you missing weed. Of course you wanted to go. You had been itching this whole time to get high, and you really were curious about what it would be like to get high with Ellie. But it didn’t seem at all like she’d want you there. “Did you ask her if it was okay for me to come?”

“She knows we’re friends now.” Dina gestured with her hands. “Imagine if I came to her place to smoke, which is right next door to yours, and didn’t invite you?”

“Dina.”

“Okay, okay! I know you two have a lot of tension.” Your heart fluttered at the way she said tension. Like that word contained so many things, and not all of them just some version of animosity. “But like I said, she’ll warm up to you. She’s got no choice now.”

“Did you ask her if I could come?”

“I told her through text, actually. And she didn’t say anything, which is as good as a ‘that’s fine.’”

You sighed. “You’re sure it won’t be weird?”

“Oh, it will be at first. But then we’ll get high, and everything will be great. Her weed’s amazing.”

You crossed your arms, then unfurrowed your brows. “Okay,” you said. “My shift ends in fifteen minutes.”

“Yay!” Dina pressed her palms together. “I’ll have an iced tea, then.”

-

Dina knocked on Ellie’s door after you had left your things at your place and changed into fresher clothes. You wore simple jeans and a tight fitted top this time. Jesse was the one to answer, soft music streaming out around him as he opened the door. As soon as he saw you were next to Dina his mouth opened up into a smile.“Y/n! Nice to see you. Come in.”

You stepped inside, feeling as if your stomach was folding unto itself. You took in your surroundings. The apartment was well kept but obviously lived in, with pieces of memorabilia and hints to Ellie’s personality scattered all over, including an acoustic guitar sat on a stand by the window.

Your stomach only squeezed in tighter when your gaze landed on Ellie laid back in the living room couch, wearing a loose t-shirt and baggy jeans. On the coffee table next to her lay a mason jar with more weed than you’d ever seen at once, as well as rolling papers, a lighter, and a grinder with a planet print on it.

“Ooh, nice,” Dina said, already getting close to peer at the spread on the table. You followed her lead and she took your hand and sat you down on the other edge of the couch. You waited for her to sit in between you and Ellie, but she didn’t, instead plopping herself down on the carpet. Jesse sat on the carpet too, criss-crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on the coffee table.

Ellie’s stare fixed on you then dropped away. As you, Dina, and Jesse chatted she got to work on rolling a joint. You couldn’t help but stare when her tongue slid against the paper and her deft fingers pushed it down She took the lighter from the table and lit the joint, taking two hits before passing it to you. It went around without much talking, but on Jesse’s second turn he glanced at you, then at Ellie, then at Dina.

“So,” Jesse started. “Ellie was telling me about this client who came in and got a big moth tattoo, but started absolutely sobbing after it was done, demanding a refund.”

Ellie’s mouth broke into a grin. “Dude, you’re making it seem like I’m bad at my job.”

“What? Of course not! Everyone knows you’re fucking great. She obviously just hadn’t thought it through. It was funny.”

Dina laughed. “You guys are horrible! The poor girl’s going to be stuck with that for life.”

“Could be a worse situation,” You said. “Ellie’s tattoos are pretty good.” It was at that moment when you complimented her that you realized you were already beginning to feel high. Jesus, it really was good weed. And like any good weed, it was lowering your inhibitions, making you less afraid to talk.

For a second, it was quiet. Then she spoke. “Thanks.”

Dina subtly threw a grin your way. “So, did you get her a refund?”

“Hell no. I spent six hours on it.”

“Damn Ellie, that’s cold,” Jesse teased.

Ellie just took the joint and smoked.

The night went on with the four of you in conversation. Ellie was still much quieter than you imagined she normally was, but at least she wasn’t being actively hostile towards you. She would say things to you sometimes, and you would say things back, and the higher you got the easier it was.

Eventually your high began to fade, and everyone else agreed that it was going away for them too. Ellie rolled another joint and flicked on the lighter, dragging the smoke in in order to light the end properly. As soon as she raised her hand at Dina to pass it to her, Dina stood up and declared she was tired and needed to go home.

You looked around, unsure of what to do now. Dina saw you begin to adjust yourself to stand up and quickly pushed you down. “Don’t worry, y/n. You can stay. You told me you’d been craving weed, right? Ellie’s already lit the thing. Enjoy it. She’s got a shit ton more.”

You looked at Ellie, who had withdrawn her hand, leaned back and brought the joint once again to her lips.

“Well, I’m staying here,” Jesse took the joint from Ellie. “It’s still early.”

“No you’re not.” Dina walked around the coffee table and started to pull him off the floor. “I need you to ride the subway with me so you can walk me home. It’s not safe for me at this hour.”

“What—“ but before he could get in more words of protest, Dina was already saying goodbye and dragging him away. Between you still being slightly buzzed and it all happening so fast, you could barely think of what to do besides watch them walk out.

You turned back to Ellie, who was grabbing the joint from where Jesse had left it on the table. To your surprise, she offered it to you. You accepted it. Why not, right?

“So,” you said, trying to make conversation. “You play guitar?”

“Yeah.” She watched as you took a drag. “Do you play anything?”

You looked at the guitar. It really was a beautiful instrument, clearly well made. “Unfortunately not. I wish I had something like that to impress girls with,” you joked, passing Ellie the joint.

She frowned as she took it. You were keenly aware of every move she made, every ripple in the taut muscles of her arms. “You think that’s why I learned to play guitar?”

You crossed your legs. “No, no. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re not sorry. But it’s fine.” She scoffed. “And you don’t need a guitar to impress girls.”

Your heart fluttered. “What do you mean?”

Ellie stayed quiet. When you wouldn’t stop staring at her with an expectant look on your face, she shrugged. “It’s… it’s nothing. Just, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.” You pulled in closer, uncrossing your legs. If she wasn’t going to tell you, then fine. “Maybe I do, actually. That girl at the club seemed pretty into me. Maybe I just have to dress like that more often.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And to let girls play with your ass in public?”

You opened your mouth, stammered, then shut it. You were not expecting a response like that. After the initial shock, it made you angry. “What’s it to you?”

She just stared. You could feel her gaze burning into you. The whole living room, with its low yellow lighting and quiet surroundings seemed warm with it.

“You really piss me off sometimes, you know that?” She said.

You took the joint from between her hands and took a drag, not letting go of eye contact one bit as you breathed out and the milky smoke rose around you. “Yeah. I know.”

“Fuck you,” she said breathlessly.

You got in closer to her. You were burning now, too. “Fuck you too.”

You moved your hand to take another hit, but Ellie snatched it out of your fingers and flicked it on the floor. You only had time to make a ‘what the hell?’ face at her for a split second before she had her hands on your face, pulling you into a kiss.

The instant you felt her warm lips on you, you gave in. You kissed her back, not caring that she could feel your desperation because you wanted her to feel it, you wanted her to know what she did to you. What she’d been doing to you, all this time. And you could feel hers too.

You placed a hand on her jaw and soon she pulled away, hands still on your face. You frowned. She just took it and brought it in close again, but not enough for your lips to touch fully. Just enough for them to ever so slowly slide against each other. You tried to kiss her properly again, but she stopped you, adamant on letting you only have that much.

“That’s how you made me feel,” She said softly.

Oh, really? You thought. Two can play at this game.

You pulled away fully, taking her hands in yours and pulling them down. She frowned. Then you came back in, only not to kiss her. You brought your face to the level of her neck and left your mouth open as you slid your lips over the soft skin, painstakingly slow. Her breathing got heavier.

Then you rolled your leg over her, getting on top of her lap. With one hand on the neckline of her shirt and the other on her jaw, tracing the line of her bottom lip with your thumb, you smiled softly. “What did I make you feel, Ellie? Did I make you feel desperate?” You lowered your face, your cheek just brushing against hers, mouth right next to her ear. “When I danced with that girl at the club, did I make you jealous?”

“Fuck you,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” you said. “Fuck me.”

She threw your back onto the sofa and kissed you hard. It was fast and rough, rougher than you were used to, but she was so good at it and you were both so feverish that the harshness felt good. She was warm, so warm. With her body against you and your mind high you felt as if you were melting into her. It was intoxicating, she was intoxicating. You’d kissed girls before and it had felt nice and sometimes it had even felt pretty good, but not like this. Never like this. Like pure, poisonous nectar was dripping through your bloodstream.

You ran your hands over her back, digging your fingers in, and let out the smallest moan in her mouth. You felt her back rise and stand there for a moment before falling. Then she lodged her thigh in between your legs. Right on that spot that had been aching like hell.

You kissed her harder, and she pressed her leg in a little harder. You grabbed at her hair, running your hands through it. She pulled her leg back slightly and pressed harder.

Then she drew back. “Do I have to fucking beg to hear you?”

You looked at her eyes. Green, with the tiniest bits of brown running through them. There were slivers of yellow light reflecting off of them, and in your high state it was as if there was liquid gold running over her irises. No, she didn’t have to beg.

You kissed her again, gently this time, and ground yourself on her thigh. You whimpered into her lips. Then when she grabbed onto your hips and started guiding them, you parted from the kiss and moaned. It was like she couldn’t get enough, every noise from you made her move faster, more restlessly, until you put your hand on her stomach and when you couldn’t find skin, lowered it so you could push her shirt up and touch her abs.

Once you did that, she started pulling it up. Your hands immediately rose to help her, and when the shirt was fully off, you gazed at her body. She was wearing a similar sports bra to the one you saw before, and underneath it, inked over her skin was the rib tattoo, a snake coiling over a bird. Along with it were others, over her hips and her stomach, crawling down her hips to her pelvis, where it disappeared under her jeans. You traced that one with your pointer.

She drew back her thigh and touched your own stomach, toying with the hem of your jeans as if asking a question. You used your other hand to guide her in, just enough so she could feel the lacy top part of your underwear. She slid her hand down onto your cunt. You could feel her smile against your cheek when she noticed how wet you were.

A whimper left your lips as she started to move her fingers. God, you didn’t know that could feel so good. Nobody had ever done it that well on you, not even yourself. As she sped up, strained moans spilled out of you. Your body wanted you to be louder, but you were scared someone would hear.

Ellie’s cheek dragged against yours. “Why the hell are you holding back?”

“I… don’t want the neighbors to…”

She lessened her pace, leaving you desperate. “Fuck that,” she said.

She withdrew her hand. Once you were desperate for more, but now you were full on throbbing. She started to move back on the couch, and you furrowed your brows in protest until she fully unzipped your jeans and pulled them down. Not satisfied, she tugged at your shirt so you would sit up and take it off. Then she slowly pushed you down, her hand on your bare rib making your skin feel electric.

She studied your body, breathing hard. “Jesus Christ,” she said, before putting her hands all over you, sliding them up and down. Massaging your breast, she licked the soft part of your belly just over your panties. Even though she wasn’t touching your cunt, you couldn’t help but make soft noises. Then she moved her tongue up, around your belly button, to your sternum, where she stopped.

“Don’t keep quiet this time.”

She pulled off your panties and spread your legs, planting her tongue on you.

“Shit,” you breathed.

She sped up and slowed down at just the right moments, using just the right pressure, as if she already knew your body better than you. All the while the feeling of it, the wetness of her tongue sliding over your folds made you delirious with pleasure. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The more you moaned the better it felt, the closer you got until you were gripping her hair and shifting your hips back and forward.

“El, fuck,” you moaned as you came, instinctively using the nickname. She guided you through the orgasm, lapping her tongue slowly.

You let go of her hair and she brought her face up, then began to fidget with your bra, pushing her hands to your back so she could find the clasp as she licked the parts of your boobs which were bare.

“No, wait,” You said, still a little breathless. Ellie stilled, looking at you. You gently pushed her back, and she let you, until you were back on top of her lap and she was staring up at you. Your hands led hers to the back of your bra where the clasp was so she could take it off. She brushed her thumbs over your nipples, causing them to harden. A pleasurable electric sensation shot up between your legs, but you only let out a few whimpers before stopping yourself from becoming too distracted.

You touched your face to her neck, sliding your mouth once again over it. You started to grind yourself on her while making lewd noises right next to her ear. Her hands went over your hips and guided them back and forth, urging you to thrust harder. One of your hands traveled to the button of her jeans. You fidgeted with it but held it there. Biting at her neck, you moved your hips ever so slightly in time to the sliding of your fingers on her stomach.“Do you want it?” you asked.

“Yes—fuck, I want it,” she replied.

You undid the button and zipper of her jeans then dug your hand underneath her underwear, smiling at the feeling of her bush and her wet folds. You were worried you perhaps weren’t going to be as good as she’d been, but your worries faded as she whimpered, gripping your hips hard. The noises became quieter when she began to suck your breasts, to your delight still making muffled grunts and whines against them.

As you sped up she became more frenzied until she took your face in her hand and kissed you, tongue against tongue. You realized she was coming when she couldn’t kiss you properly anymore and buried her face in your neck and cursed, her body tensing until it began to twitch. You both caught your breath, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. Then she laid you back down on the couch and kissed you softly as your legs wrapped around her. The two of you made out until you were too sleepy, at which point your arms and limbs intertwined as you drifted off to sleep.

pt.4

-

a/n - depending on wether or not ppl seem interested I will be continuing this series, which I will prob finish in one or two parts. if you really want me to continue feel free to comment or dm!!

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ take a seat ] q. hughes

day 3 of kinktober (face sitting w/ quinn hughes)

paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

summary: Quinn grows a playoff beard and his girlfriend loves it. the day he decides to shave it after the Canucks get eliminated, she tells him how she really feels about it and Quinn gives her the moment she’s been wanting since he started growing it before he shaves it

warning(s) : smut ! face sitting / riding, oral (f receiving), fingering

author’s note : been waiting to write this one hehe. it’s on the shorter side but i hope y'all enjoy anyway

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

The playoffs have treated her and Quinn so well. Quinn because he got to captain the Canucks to the second round after a short 3 year playoff drought. Her because Quinn grew a playoff beard over the past month or so and she's barely managed to keep her hands off of him while he was playing.

She loves everything about the playoffs, but especially the fact that Quinn hasn’t shaved in a few weeks. He looks so good with longer facial hair and she loves the way it tickles her lip when he kisses her. She kinda just wants him to go down on her for as long as possible to feel it against her core.

The thought of Quinn eating her out with the beard is enough to soak her. The feeling of his beard on her core is something she thinks about an unhealthy number of times over the course of three weeks. She’s gotten off multiple times just at the thought alone, especially when he's away playing in Nashville and Edmonton. She’s wouldn’t know what to do if it happened.

But the Canucks were eliminated by Edmonton last night so it’s time for Quinn to shave off the beard he has spent the past few weeks growing. He doesn't do it the day after their season ends because he wants to just lay around and have the laziest day ever, so she gets an extra day to admire him.

The morning of the day Quinn wants to shave his beard though, she wakes up before he does. He stopped setting alarms once the Canucks got eliminated two nights ago but she is naturally an early riser. She doesn't dare move because part of Quinn's morning routine is shaving. If she moves and wakes him up, he's going to go shave and that's the last thing she wants right now.

She softly sighs as morning Vancouver sun creates a muted orange glow throughout the room. Quinn already looks so good and he's not even awake yet.

All because of that stupid beard he grew.

Quinn begins to stir moments after she wakes. His eyes flutter open and look bright in the morning sunlight.

"It's creepy to stare at people while they sleep, baby," he tells her, his voice slurred since he just woke up. Also kind of raspy, which she loves.

"Not my fault you look pretty all the time," she replies. "I also just woke up a few minutes ago so give me a break. I wanted to admire my boyfriend before he woke up and started making comments that ruined the whole vibe."

He groans and rubs his face. He touches his facial hair and hums. "I gotta go get rid of this mess," he says. "Then you can admire me all you want, okay?"

Her eyes widen and Quinn begins to move to get out of bed. She quickly grabs his arm to stop him from getting any further.

"I like that mess," she finally admits to him. He turns back around and looks at her. She begins to talk before her brain can catch up to what she's saying. "I mean, you look really hot with that mess on your face. Except, I don't think it's a mess. I wish you wouldn't run off and shave it first chance you get."

Quinn blinks at her slowly like he's processing what she said to him. A smile grows on his lips and she presses her lips into a line.

"Come here," Quinn tells her as he lays back down. She blinks at him, confused. "I know you've thought about it. I've seen the way that you would look at me then excuse yourself to go use the bathroom." She feels her face get hot in embarrassment. She thought she was more subtle than she actually was.

She plays with her fingers while she watches Quinn get comfortable. "Quinn, I-"

"Come take a seat, pretty girl," he interrupts as he runs his fingers over his beard. "Sit on and ride my face. I know you want to so I am giving you what you want before I go shave."

Who is she to say no to him? He's offering so she might as well take it.

Without anymore hesitation, she moves so she's kneeling above his face with her knees on the pillow on either side of his head. Lucky for her, she's only wearing one of Quinn's Canucks t-shirts and a pair of underwear. Nothing else.

Quinn kisses the inside of her thigh right by her core while he pushes the fabric of the t-shirt up. She hums softly as her body finally begins to wake up. She feels the gentle scratch of his facial hair on her skin and she gnaws on her bottom lip. "Oh my God," she sighs.

"I haven't even done anything yet," Quinn laughs.

"Shut up and do something then," she retorts. "Please, Quinn." She's not above begging at this point.

He licks a stripe over her panties, which are soaked by now. Like she said, the thought alone makes her drip. His finger follows his tongue and she hums. Quinn pushes the fabric to the side and runs a finger through her soaked folds. She bites down on her bottom lip to keep from making any loud noises since it is morning and their neighbors are probably still sleeping.

She grabs onto the headboard above Quinn's head as he runs his tongue through her folds. "Fuck, Quinn!" She cries out. "Oh my God."

The feeling of the gentle scratch of his facial hair is almost too much for her. Quinn wraps his lips around her clit and hums, sending a shock through her body. It almost jumpstarts her own movements as she begins to roll her hips.

"That's it, baby," Quinn says against her core. "Take what you want."

His hands rest on her waist and he pulls her down so she's completely sitting on his face but he's still able to breathe. His tongue continues to run through her folds as she rolls her hips. Her core grinds across his face and she feels the scratch of his facial hair with each movement. She welcomes the new feeling. It only adds to her pleasure despite the beard burn she'll probably have when all this is over.

Quinn hums every so often, and she groans with every hum. Her grip on the headboard gets stronger the longer she moves. She's almost afraid that she'll lose her balance despite his hands keeping her from falling.

One of his hands slides up under the loose t-shirt and cups her breast. She throws her head back and lets out a borderline pornographic moan as she continues to ride Quinn's face. One of her hands flies to Quinn's messy hair, fingers finding a home.

He slides his other hand so his thumb can access her clit. He rubs the sensitive nub while continuing to run his tongue though her folds with each movement. "Oh my fucking- Quinn," she cries out. "Holy-"

"Look so pretty riding my face, pretty girl," Quinn mumbles. His words shoot straight to her core. "Fuck."

His thumb moves and slides into her. She gasps and her movement falters for a second while she recovers from the addition. "Quinn," she groans, holding the 'N' sound.

Between his tongue, his thumb, and his facial hair, she's not sure how she hasn't come all over his face by now. Her legs are shaking so she has to stop moving, but Quinn completely takes over despite being under her.

He speeds up his thumb for a second before switching fingers, using his pointer and middle fingers instead. She welcomes the familiar stretch.

His fingers and tongue are enough to bring her to the edge. She's white-knuckling the headboard with one hand while her other hand remains in Quinn's hair.

"Gonna come," she pants. "Quinn. I'm close."

"Told you to take what you want," Quinn replies. "So take what you want."

Quinn speeds up his fingers and curls them in a 'come here' motion. The gentle scratch of his facial hair turns less gentle as he speeds up his tongue movements, but she still loves it.

She throws her head back and cries out his name as she comes. She involuntarily rolls her own hips so her core grinds against his face again. Her fingers curl in his locks so she has something to hold on to as she reaches her climax. She loses her vision for half a second because of how hard her orgasm hits her.

Her body turns to jelly as she recovers. With Quinn's help, she's able to lie back down beside him. Her breathing is labored and she stares up at the ceiling, unable to move to look at her boyfriend.

All this morning showed her is that Quinn needs to grow out his facial hair more often because it made her come harder than she ever has before. She can't move for about ten minutes after her orgasm.

When she's fully conscious again, she looks over at Quinn. He didn't go and shave yet.

"I think I'm going to keep this for another day or two," he tells her. "Just for you. That is going to happen a few more times before it goes away."

She smiles and rolls so she can touch his face. "I'm going to need you to grow it out like this again soon because holy shit, Quinn," she giggles. "So hot. Felt so good."

Quinn matches her smile. "Maybe over the summer," he tells her. "No promises though."

"Gonna need my favorite seat back at some point."

"Next year when we make playoffs against for sure."

༺──────────────༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

wanna be added to the kinktober taglist ? fill out this form !!

taglist : @katie-the-bookworm @mommahughes19-23 @ceces-obsessions @pucks-goals-penalties @justwanderingbutneverlost @alwaysclassyeagle @Zegrashughes @unicorns3993 @herbouqetbasement @haechanslovey @this-ass-is-eikonic @scoupsdetyong @themotogirl @iclyj @devilsandpensfan @loveforaugust @estapa94 @flysdaleflyby @lunaloves9 @beez-86 @h0e4fictionalme-n @orphicdreamers-wp @goalsongspinkthongs @hischierswhore @hughescanucks

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Say yes to me

Paring: fem!reader x alpha!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, a/b/o, alpha Nat, omega reader, consensual human trafficking?, sex toys, begging, praise kink, pet names, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, belly bulges, age gap (obviously)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: look who’s back

Masterlist-

You were prepared for once belonging to an powerful alpha, after all you had spent all your upbringing on a farm designed to produce omegas like you. In a world where most of the population either consisted of betas or alphas your kind was especially rare. Which meant there weren’t enough omegas for the alphas and that concluded in the farms like the one you had grew up in. The avengers mostly consisted of alphas, alphas with mates. Tony had Pepper, Clint had Laura and Nat had well no one until now. Tony thought he had been a damn genius when he got the idea what to get Nat for her 40th birthday. Why not get the alpha her very own mate? 

Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw you, younger, unmated and exactly her type. She was grateful for her gift of course, ever since she got you she had been all over you. Trying to make you hers. Natasha despised the idea by mating you by force so she tried her best to appeal to you. You were surprised by the kindness of the older alpha as she respected your borders and never made you uncomfortable. She’d take you out to dinner, watch your favourite movies and even teach you some martial art. 

You were certain to mate with her after all it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want her, no, you needed her. Every time you sat down on her lap and let her cock strain in her boxers. You tried to kiss her again and again but it never brought you anywhere. She insisted on waiting until your second heat which one bothered you more after all you hadn’t even had your first. 

"Please Tasha" you whined rolling your hips in anticipation for her. "You know what the farm said mating in your sleeping with an alpha in your first heat only makes it wore" You rolled you eyes sitting up to get a better view of the assassin sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. "I need it, please touch me, please. You begged her. "We can use the toys they gave you for your heat" She prosed, it took everything in her not to mate you right now. 

"Better than nothing" You signed watching Natasha tug off your shorts. She climbed up your body catching your lips in a heated kiss. You released whimpers as she shoved her tongue down her throat. You rocked your hips against hers, crotch on crotch as you tried to get her attention. "Fuck, you're a naughty girl" She groaned kissing down your neck to your chest nibbling on the sensitive skin of your breasts. "Please Tasha, please" you begged her "I'll make it better I promise кроли" Her calling you russian pet names only made you go even more crazy. 

She had you laying on her chest with your back your legs spread over her crotch. One hand played with your breast using it as a sort of stress ball as she paled the sensitive flesh with her veiny hands. The other one held a vibrator to your puffy clit as you buckled your hips desperately against the toy. She had put it on a low setting enough to make you get close to your edge but not enough to actually make you cum. You moaned right in the older woman's ear in an attempted to get her to break her facade and finally mate you. 

After a while of teasing your puffy cunt he decided to finally turn the toy up to give you the sweet release. You threw your head back on her shoulder crying out for a release. "Good girl" She praised you once more turning the device higher. "Come on sweet girl cum for me, cum for your alpha" With a few more rolls of your hips you had your release pressing your face into her neck as you clenched around nothing. Natasha helped you through your first orgasm of the night but you were far from satisfied, you were going to get her to mate with you that day. 

Natasha seemingly not aware of your determination stood up from the bed to get a wash cloth from the bath couldn't believe her eyes when she came back to her bed room. You had placed yourself on her bed on all fours you back arched to present your tripping holes to the older alpha. "Please alpha breed me" You whined your face smushed against the soft pillow. 

"Fuck you're making this hard for me baby girl" she chuckled standing behind you to palm your ass. "Jus' take me this rule is so stupid" you complained, there had been this stupid rule of not mating in your first heat because it should be something every omega should get over with however you couldn't care less. You could hear her unbuckling her belt before hearing the sound  of the zipper going down. She placed herself behind you rubbing two fingers through your slit before pushing them past your tight hole. 

"Fuck you're tighter than I thought but I'll make it fit кролик" She smirked pulling her fingers out again before alining her self behind you. Natasha pushed her hips forward pushing her cock into for weeping hole. She was big, bigger than you thought but after a while her stretch was so delicious you'd never want anything else. After she bottomed you out she waited for your approval to move. Her hands smooth over your lower back and womb feeling a small bump where the head of your cock was whimpering at the feeling of your tight walls behind her. 

"Please, Natty, move" You breathed out anticipating the movement of the older woman. She started to pump her dick in and out your already sensitive cunt. You couldn't help but release sweet whimpers at the fast pace she had she had set. One arm sneaked around your body pulling you up against her chest as she never stopped pounding into you. She released an almost animalistic groan before biting down on your shoulder making you cry out to mark you as her mate.

"Fuck" She groaned into your ear "I'm gonna fuck you pregnant, you'll be tripping with my cum when I'm done with you" "Please Tasha breed me with your pups" You cried out. One of her exercised hands found its way to your overstimulated Clit rubbing the nub.  "Cum, cum with me" She called out before releasing inside of your womb painting the insides white as her knot formed making her slow her movement. That triggered your own orgasm making you see stars. 

She held you close caressing your body and whispering sweet nothings into you ear as she writhe for her knot to disappear. After awhile she pulled out to place you on the soft mattress she took a look between your leg to see your ruined cunt sum tripping out of your abused hole onto the beddings. The sight only made her hard again. "Ready for round 2" 

:)

[p0orbaby]

You’re Tired of Moving, Your Body’s Aching

summary: after a loss, you’re there to ease the pain

warnings: all the feels

a/n: something small and soft

word count: 1k

-

The night is sweltering, a thick humidity hanging in the air like an unwanted guest. Paris, usually dripping with charm, feels oppressive, each winding street and picturesque facade mocking you with their indifference. The Eiffel Tower glows in the distance, a cruel beacon in a night you’ll never forget. It’s as if the city itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to make your move.

You’ve spent the past hour navigating bureaucratic labyrinths, slipping through cracks in the system with well-timed smiles and carefully chosen words. Getting into the Olympic Village isn’t easy, especially now, but you’ve managed it. Your heart hammers in your chest as you finally make it to the Spanish team’s floor, your shoes barely making a sound on the polished tiles. It’s too quiet, the kind of quiet that buzzes in your ears and makes your skin prickle.

Alexia’s room is at the end of the hall, a sliver of light spilling out into the corridor like a weak beacon. The door is slightly ajar, and as you push it open gently, it creaks, the sound almost deafening in the stillness. She’s there, sitting on the edge of her bed, still in her kit, her face buried in her hands. Seeing her like this, broken, vulnerable, makes your chest ache. A dull, persistent pain that settles behind your ribs.

“Alexia,” you whisper, stepping inside and closing the door softly behind you. She doesn’t look up, but you know she’s heard you. The room feels too small, the air thick with unspoken grief. You cross the room and kneel in front of her, your fingers trembling as you reach for her hands.

She lifts her head slowly, her eyes red and puffy, tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks. Her face, usually so fierce and determined, is a mask of despair. The sight twists a knife in your gut. You wish you could take her pain and make it yours, to bear the weight she’s carrying.

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping her face in your hands. Her skin is warm and damp, her tears mixing with the sweat of the match. “I’m here”

Her eyes, usually so full of fire, are dull and distant. She leans into your touch, closing her eyes as if trying to shut out the world. You brush away her tears with your thumbs, your heart breaking with every hitch in her breath. The silence between you is heavy, each breath a struggle.

“It’s not fair,” she whispers, voice cracking. “We were so close”

“I know,” you acknowledge, because what else can you say? Words feel inadequate, useless. You slide onto the bed beside her, pulling her into your arms. She comes willingly, burying her face in your neck, her body trembling with sobs.

You hold her tight, fingers threading through her hair, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ear. The room is filled with the sound of her crying, the harsh, ragged breaths that speak of a pain too deep for words. Each sob feels like a blow, a reminder of her shattered dreams.

You’re not allowed to stay in the Village, but you’ve made arrangements to be here tonight. It took some doing, a few favours called in, but it was worth it. You’d have done anything to be here for her. The logistics and politics are nothing compared to the sight of her, broken and needing you.

As the minutes tick by, her sobs begin to subside, her breathing evening out. You press a kiss to her temple, lingering there, feeling the warmth of her skin against your lips. The taste of her tears lingers, a bitter reminder of her heartbreak.

“I love you,” you whisper, because she needs to hear it, because you need to say it. “I’m so proud of you, Alexia. So, so proud”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching your face. “I let everyone down,” she says, her voice barely more than a breath, laden with self-recrimination.

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “You gave everything you had. You fought with everything in you. That’s not letting anyone down. That’s being a leader. That’s being a champion”

A fresh wave of tears spills over her cheeks, but there’s something else in her eyes now. A spark of the fire you know so well. You lean in and kiss her, softly at first, then deeper, pouring all your love and reassurance into that one kiss. The taste of salt and sorrow mingles with the heat of your desperation to make her feel something other than pain.

When you finally pull back, you rest your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling. “You’re not alone,” you tell her. “You’ve got one match left, and you’re going to win that bronze. I can feel it”

She nods, a small, fragile smile curving her lips. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For being here”

“Always,” you promise, the word a vow that echoes in the quiet room.

You spend the night wrapped around each other, the darkness outside the window a stark contrast to the soft glow of the lamp beside the bed. You talk, you cry, you kiss when she wants to. You hold her as if your very presence can stitch her broken pieces back together. Each touch, each whispered word, is an attempt to rebuild, to heal.

As dawn begins to break, casting a pale light over the room, Alexia finally falls into a restless sleep, her head on your chest, your fingers still tangled in her hair. You stay awake, watching over her, knowing that this is where you’re meant to be. The early morning light paints her face in soft hues, the remnants of her tears glistening like dewdrops.

In the quiet of the early morning, with the world slowly coming to life outside, you make a silent vow. To stand by her, to lift her up when she falls, to be her rock in the storm. Because love is more than just the good times; it’s the strength to face the bad ones together. You press a final kiss to her forehead, the gesture a silent promise.

[pipi-un-kaki-in-pipi-land]

demon slayer hcs: the hashiras reacting to your confession

wc: 830>

second post of the day? sí

Mitsuri 

you'd do it after eating at her favourite restaurant 

her eyes would definitely widen in shock as she wasn't expecting this at all, especially from you 

before she could respond, you tell her how she's the most beautiful and gorgeous woman you've ever laid your eyes upon 

i feel like she'd giggle and squeal and give you a ton of thank yous 

you'd leave her in a hot blush as she happily accepts your confession and tells her how she feels too  

the both of you go home, hand in hand 

Muichiro 

would happen while the both of you are strolling through the woods

"huh?" is the most he'd say 

hes never got a thing for love, but he had cherished the relationship he's had with you for a long time

he may come off as sarcastic saying like "what am i supposed to say??" but genuinely he does NOT know what to say 

you didn't know how to reply to him but you told him its up to how he feels 

his clueless ass is just gonna say "sure" 

after that he'll try to awkwardly hold your hand as he walks faster, trying to hide his sudden blush 

Kyojuro

will happen while the both of you are eating alone together

he was just about to put a spoonful of food in his mouth when he halted at those sudden words

he'd probably say "is that so, y/n?" 

he'll just randomly start smiling and laughing

he'll tell you that he was surprised that you had feelings for a man like him 

hes not a man of love but i guess he'll make an exception for you 

"well if that's your choice... i guess i'll happily be yours!" he smiled warmly, rubbing his hand on yours 

the rest of the evening was filled with happy chatter

Sanemi 

you were having a friendly duel with him when you managed to pin him down 

oh god he looked so good when you were on top of him 

when you finally said it, he looked at you in confusion at first but suddenly reversed his positions with yours

next thing you know, he was on top of you 

"say what?" he sneered, a grin forming at the corners of his lips 

"i-i like you," your hands quivered as you were scared that he wouldn't take it seriously 

then suddenly he just pressed his lips on yours as he locked his hands with yours, leaving you in shock

i don't need to explain what the both of you did afterwards 

god damn bro this guy is so down bad for you 

Shinobu 

you were watching her experimenting on stuff when it just came out 

"what?" she looked at you innocently, stopping whatever she was doing

you dropped your head down in embarrassment but she knew you were blushing real hard

she tilted your jaw so it faced hers and inched close to your lips 

"is that so?" she muttered under her breath but you could hear it as clear as day 

before you knew it, she placed a kiss on your lips before letting go and whispering into your ear "i wanna be yours too, darling," 

the butterflies in your stomach suddenly disappeared as you knew you had the real butterfly to yourself now 

Iguro 

the both of you were walking when you felt that it was the perfect moment to express your feelings for him 

he looked at you for a split second before turning back, his expression still constant

"y/n, i don't know how to feel about this," 

just like muichiro, he was inexperienced at feeling emotions, let alone love

you assured him that it was alright if he didn't return the feelings, but you just wanted to let him know that you appreciated him more than anyone else did 

those words managed to slither to the depths of his heart as he locked eye contact with you 

he slowly held your hand as he placed a clothed kiss on it 

you returned the touch by caressing the scars through his mask with your fingers, telling him how gorgeous he was 

"thank you y/n. i-" his breath hitched halfway. "i like you too," 

that was all you needed to hear as the both of you spent the rest of the night together 

Giyu 

he was walking you back to the dorm when you suddenly leaned into his ear and said it 

his eyes widened ever so slightly as he rubbed his ear to make sure he heard that correctly 

"i see," this man can't express himself LMFAOOO 

"well, you're quite- ahem- attractive too," he tried to muster up whatever words he could say before turning red

you took that as a yes as you dived in for a kiss on his cheek but you were suddenly stopped as his hands gently held your jaw 

"i deserve it," he said before leaning in to kiss you himself 

he definitely went in your dorm with you

[nikkento-writes]

Rub You the Right Way - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.7k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio, 69 position), mutual masturbation, face-riding, face-fucking, use of sex toys, cum eating, multiple orgasms

Summary: You can’t stop thinking about your adorably sweet and shy next-door neighbor, especially after your very eventful night with him just two days ago. Lucky for you, Choso can’t stop thinking about you either.

Author’s Notes: I initially planned for this to be a one-shot, but I love the dynamic of these two awkward dorks so much that I turned this into a three-part mini series! I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Two days following your risqué rendezvous with Choso, you find yourself standing in front of his door once again, a tad nervous to knock. It’s Sunday night, just past dinnertime, and you finally finished all the extra work you had taken home with you for the weekend. With hours spent pouring over documents, straining your eyes at a computer screen, all you want is to relax. And based on Friday night’s festivities, your shy and surprisingly sexy neighbor can help you with that.

You’re not here explicitly expecting sex. Sure, maybe you’re hoping for it to some extent. It was incredibly hot, so much so that you’ve masturbated yourself to sleep every night since, replaying it in over and over in your head. The fucked-out gaze in his eyes as he watched you play with yourself. His mouth pressed deliciously to your cunt, sucking and slurping on your swollen clit. That huge fucking cock deep down your throat. Most of all, you adore that swoon worthy smile of his as he caressed your cheek, thanking you oh-so-sweetly. What you really want is companionship, to be wrapped in his big, strong arms, so warm and comforting around you, completely at peace in the world. His lips soft, kisses careful, hands gentle on your body, like he truly cherishes you. You want that again. You want it all the time.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you knock, holding your breath in anticipation. Yuji is the one to answer, equally as surprised as you. He says your name, staring at you curiously. “Is everything okay?”

Of course he’s reacting this way; you’ve never visited, especially not at an odd hour like this. You didn’t even consider that his little brother would be here, even though he’s here basically all the time. You dumb idiot! Thinking quickly, you spit out the most generic and phony response that comes to mind. “Can I borrow some sugar?” Sugar? Really? That’s the best you can come up with?

He doesn’t seem fazed by the bizarre request, though you sense he doesn’t buy it, given the twitch in his lip, hiding his smirk. Still, Yuji, much like his brother, has a kind heart, so he plays along. “Hey bro,” he calls out, looking to his right.

Choso walks over from the kitchen, his eyes widening upon seeing you. He utters your name quietly, soap dripping from the gloves on his hands, in the middle of washing dishes.

“She wants some sugar.” Yuji has a cheeky grin on his face. “Think you can spare her some?”

Choso swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing apprehensively in his throat. “Sugar?” he repeats, an uncertain tone in his voice.

“Yeah,” you confirm, giving him an innocent smile. “I’m trying to bake some chocolate chip cookies and I have everything except sugar. So silly of me, right?” You’re not baking anything, but you can’t take it back now, not with Choso’s full attention on you.

He nods with a serious expression on his face, holding his arms up like a surgeon who just finished a procedure, suds slowly dripping down his forearms. “How much do you need?”

“Just a cup. That’s all the recipe calls for. It’s a batch of a dozen, so I really don’t need much.” There is no recipe, the lie keeps getting more and more elaborate, your voice getting squeakier and less convincing every second you speak. You really can’t help yourself when you’re put on the spot like this. Why must you be so goddamn awkward?!

He nods once more before disappearing back into the kitchen to retrieve the sugar you actually don’t need. Yuji continues to grin at you. “Choso bakes a lot, so he’s always got ingredients on hand.”

You’re relieved to change the subject in a slightly different direction. “His cookies are always so yummy.” All of the times Yuji has hand-delivered his brother’s wonderful treats to you flash in your head, making you smile.

“He’s a real sorcerer in the kitchen.” Yuji leans in a bit closer, voice softer now for only you to hear. “You know, he’d be more than happy to teach you a few of his recipes, if you want. He’s shy at first, but he is a really great guy.”

You give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, he is.” It touches your heart how highly Yuji speaks of his older brother. Under the guise of cooking lessons, he’s implying that he wants the two of you to be together, as friends, cordial neighbors, possibly even potential lovers. Maybe he doesn’t want his brother to be so lonely anymore. 

Choso returns, two zipped plastic bags in his hands. “If you’re baking chocolate chip cookies, you’ll need brown sugar too. So, I packed you both, just in case,” he explains, dropping them into your open palms.

You accept, too shy to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the newly acquired goods. “Thank you, Choso. I really appreciate it.”

He bows, stiff and formal, while Yuji waves. “You sure you don’t want any more of Choso’s sugar? He’s got plenty to give!” he adds, definitely trying to instigate.

Turning on your heel to retreat into your apartment, you squeak, “I’m good, thank you!” without sparing them another glance. In the safety of your home, you lean against the door, burying your face in your hands. so embarrassed at what just transpired, mentally beating yourself up for being so ridiculous. With all this extra sugar so graciously given by Choso, you end up baking cookies, pretending for your own sake that this was part of the plan all along.   

~~~

Choso sits on the couch, hugging his knees, staring blankly at the empty TV in front of him. He’s muttering the word “sugar” over and over to himself, mind racing with all kinds of ridiculous thoughts. Two days after the most amazing night of his life and all you want is sugar. Sugar! And for cookies? Cookies for who?! He’s completely aware that you’ve been busy with work, but he can’t stop his insecurities from rattling him. The two of you didn’t really discuss the status of your relationship.  For all he knows, you could have hated the entire experience all together. Though, he has a hard time believing that, not with the way you looked at him, so full of warmth and adoration, even with his cock throbbing inside your mouth…

He physically shakes his head to rid the impure thoughts, the same ones that he’s touched himself to since that night. His vast collection of toys are no match to the real thing, to you. And he may never get to feel that ever again. Because you’re disgusted by him. You hate him. It’s all over between you two before it even began.

Whelp, back to freaking out.

“Choso?” Yuji’s voice finally snaps him out of his trance. His younger brother approaches him carefully, a concerned expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers, unconvincingly.

Yuji raises his brow. “You sure? You’ve been sitting here, mumbling ‘sugar’ for the past fifteen minutes.”

Fuck! He heard that? Choso blushes, embarrassed to have been caught in such a sorry state. He stutters, making a poor attempt at explaining himself. “Well, you see…I’ve been…I have a…I think that – ”

Yuji laughs, taking a seat beside him. “If you want to talk to her, just do it! I already put in a good word for you,” he says with a wink, giving him a playful nudge.

Choso gapes at him. “You…what?”

He beams, pleased with himself. “Yeah, I said you could teach her a few things in the kitchen and I think she’s interested! I mean, she did want your sugar, if you know what I mean.” More nudging and ribbing while Choso buries his face into his hands, horrified. “She’s really nice and super easy to talk to. I’m sure the two of you can become really good friends.”

Friends. Sweet baby Yuji doesn’t even know the half of it. Choso sighs, finally straying from the path of an existential crisis. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself,” he says quietly. 

Yuji puts his arm around him, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. “You won’t, I promise you. Just be yourself.”

He meets his gaze, giving him a half-hearted smile, genuinely feeling a bit better after that little pep talk. They watch a movie together, temporarily taking Choso’s mind off the whole ordeal. He tries not to think about you or the cookies you’re currently baking, or that he’s totally jealous of this new imaginary love rival of his that will be the recipient of said cookies.

Yuji leaves at eleven to catch one of the last busses back to his university. Choso decides that he’s sick of sulking around and tormenting himself with outrageous theories. He puts on his best sweats and fixes his hair so that slightly less strands are sticking out from his poofy buns. Back straight, chest puffed out, and all the confidence he can muster, he marches next door, determined to tell you exactly how he’s feeling.

~~~

You’re sitting at the kitchen table in a bathrobe, having just finished eating one of your  freshly baked cookies. You decided during your shower to finally give one of your newer gadgets a try, a sleekly designed vibrating dildo made from the softest silicone material you can imagine. The toy and a bottle of lube are set up on the nightstand beside your bed, ready to use along with the memory of riding Choso’s gorgeous face. While you wish you were actually with him instead, your efforts from earlier didn’t go the way you were hoping. This will have to do for now, at least until you gather the guts to approach him again.

Just as you’re about to retire into the bedroom, there’s a knock on your door. To your surprise, Choso stands before you, stiff and very obviously nervous. “Hi,” he says, giving you an awkward wave that you find absolutely adorable.

You smile, opening the door wider for him to enter. “Hi. Come in.”

He shuffles through, pausing at the kitchen table to observe the plate of cookies you made with the sugar he gave you. “So…cookies,” he mutters.

You bite your lip anxiously. “Yeah, cookies.”

There’s a heavy pause, the both of you trying to find the right words to say to one another. You decide to be honest with him, but it comes out the same time he asks you the question that’s been gnawing on his mind all night.

“I want be with you.”

“Who are they for?”

You stare at each other, confused. Taking a step towards him, you explain, “I came over to see if you wanted to hang out, but I chickened out when I saw your brother. I made up some dumb excuse, hence the request for sugar. I ended up baking cookies anyways to make myself feel better.”

His expression softens, sighing in relief. “I freaked out not being able to see you all weekend. And when you came over asking for sugar, I got jealous that you were baking for somebody else.” He rubs the back of his neck timidly, a small grin on his face. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

Another step and you’re close enough to touch him, but you don’t. “Not at all. I’m the one who came up with the lamest lie ever. Your brother probably thinks I’m a weirdo.”

He chuckles. “He definitely doesn’t.”

You’re only an inch apart now, enough to feel his body heat. “I meant what I said. I want to be with you.”

His eyes wander to your chest, your robe loose and barely clinging to you. He swallows hard and you can tell that he’s losing his composure too. “You do?”

“I do.” You peer up at him with a smile, wanting so badly to hug him, to kiss him.

His voice is quiet, but the surest you’ve ever heard it. “I want to be with you too.”

Your chest swells with happiness, ready to burst and shoot out confetti all over his pretty face. He’s staring at your lips now, licking his own when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You grin at him, tugging at the collar of his sweater to pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his. He holds you in a warm embrace, kissing you gently, one hand on your lower back, the other spread across the nape of your neck. “You taste so good,” he whispers, sucking on your bottom lip.

“That’s because I just ate a cookie,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose to his.

“Nah,” he smirks, licking into your mouth. “You taste good everywhere.”

You let out a moan, leading him straight into your bedroom where you untie the knot of your robe, revealing your bare body. He slides the rest off, watching you lie on the bed, legs spread wide, pussy on display for him. His kisses start at your ankles, then slowly up your legs, where he sucks on the plush skin of your inner thighs. You let him ravish you, toes curling in pleasure with his tongue flat on your clit, lapping you up hungrily. “Choso,” you whine his name, gripping onto his hair, bucking against his face to feel him even deeper.

He hums into your skin, his lips puckered tight around you, tongue flicking your sensitive bud. He looks up at you, enjoying your fucked-out expression. Something beside you captures his attention for a moment, distracting him. “What is that?”

You’re too caught up in the pleasure that you don’t register what he’s asking you until he pulls off to investigate, laser focused on the object on your nightstand. You quickly grab it from him, horrified when you realize what he’s so fixated on: the dildo. “It’s just one of my toys. I thought we wouldn’t hang out tonight, so I…” your voice trails off, noticing the intensity in his gaze. Hot, flustered, and not keen on elaborating any further, you comment, “Anyways, I’ll just put this away now – ”

He stops you. “No. Don’t. Don’t put it away.”

“Don’t…?”

A little too Intrigued, he scooches closer to you, studying the device in your hand. “Can you show me how you use it?”

You’ve already demonstrated the vibrator for him. For some reason, you’re shy to show him this. Maybe it’s because of how intimate it feels to have something inside you, to be probed, penetrated, filled. But as he looks at you so sweetly, eyes filled with genuine curiosity, you find yourself giving in. “Okay,” you oblige hesitantly, reaching for the lube bottle, your entire body tingling. You pump a small drop of it on the tip, using your fingers to coat the rest on.

He watches you, mouth hanging open, drool leaking from one side of his lips, mesmerized by the way you rub it up and down your cunt, teasing yourself with it. “What do you think about when you use it?”

You giggle, pressing the toy to your clit. “Do you really have to ask?”

“You think about me?” The surprise in his voice is endearing; he has no clue the effect he has on you, how badly you want him, how incredibly fucking hot he is.

“Of course I do,” you answer, gaining some of your confidence back. You pull him towards you, kissing him fervently, sliding the tip to your entrance, slick with arousal. “Look at what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, growing erection bulging in his sweatpants, eyes glazed over as he ogles your wet cunt. “Fuck.”

“Like what you see?” you goad him, readjusting your grip on the base so that your thumb is set on the button.

He nods, kissing you along your neck, then up to your ear, his voice a sultry whisper. “I want you to squirt all over it. Want to lick it up and make you come again and again and again on my tongue.”

“Oh fuck, Choso. So nasty,” you moan, easing it inside you, pussy gradually adjusting to the size. You bite your lip at the tight fit; it’s been a while since you’ve used this, and even longer since you've been penetrated by anything, or anyone. “So tight.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” His genuine concern is too cute. He’s too cute.

You give him a reassuring smile, shaking your head. “No, it’s just been a while since I…y’know.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He grazes your forehead with his lips, giving you a soft peck. “I don’t want you to be in any pain.”

You grin wider, finding him so adorably sincere and sweet. “I’m sure, Choso.” With the dildo nestled comfortably inside you, you reach for his hand, resting it on the base. “Can you fuck me with it? Please?”

This spurs him on, a guttural groan escaping him, eyes wide and pupils dilated, completely captivated by you. You cup his cheek, tracing his upper lip with your thumb. He opens his mouth, chasing any taste of you on his tongue. “You’ll really let me?”

You gaze down at his lap, a small spot of precum leaking through his grey sweats. “Only if you stroke yourself while you do it.”

Choso is feverishly turned on right now, face flushed, his entire body scorching hot, cock throbbing in his pants. Your fingers brush his navel on your way to his waistband and he nearly combusts just thinking about your fist wrapped around his shaft, stroking him. He shimmies out of his bottoms, shrugging them off from his ankles until he’s naked from the waist down, rock hard erection flopping against his abdomen.

“Big boy,” you tease him, nipping at his ear lobe, drooling at the sight of him. “You’d fill me up so good.”

“God, I want to so bad,” he grunts, stroking himself with his left hand as his right fucks you with the dildo. Even without the vibration on, it feels amazing, the way he flicks his wrist, pumping the toy in and out of you. He times his thrusts to match the pace in which he strokes himself, wishing he was inside you instead. But he resists the temptation, knowing there’s all the time in the world to explore each other. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just the two of you, enjoying one another at whatever pace feels right. 

Wanting to check out all of the features this toy offers, he pushes the button, causing it to vibrate inside you. You gasp at the sudden sensation, squirming as he ramps it up two more levels, sliding it even deeper to stimulate your g-spot. It doesn’t take much longer for you to come like this, buzzing inside and out with ecstasy, the toy absolutely soaked down the base with lube and your slick. He pulls it out of you, tossing the dildo aside to marvel at the mess you made. Before he can make his next move, you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap to rub your wet pussy along his shaft. You rock yourself on him, sleek folds gliding up and down his cock so smoothly, just one move and he’d been in heaven.

He’s a stuttering nervous wreck when he asks, “Should we…should we try it, baby?” He knows the two of you shouldn’t; despite all that’s happened in just the past two days, this is a big and monumental step, especially for him, a borderline shut-in with intimacy issues that shouldn’t be resolved from a rash decision. But if you want it, he’s more than willing to give it to you. That’s just the kind of guy Choso is, putting others before himself.

Luckily for him, you see that. You see him. “Not yet,” you say, caressing his face. “We’ll wait until we’re both ready, okay? There’s no need to rush.”

He smiles, releasing the breath he didn’t realize he was holding waiting for your response. “Are you sure?”

You kiss him softly. “I really like you, Choso. I don’t want to mess this up by going too fast.”

“Me too,” he kisses you back, nearly in tears at how perfectly this is going. “I really like you, too.”

He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately while you grind yourself on him until the both of you come, out-of-breath, sweaty, and in total bliss. His cum pools on his abdomen, some of it dripping down the side of his stomach onto the sheets below you. You relax on top of him, spent and satiated, but your little rest doesn’t last for long as he lifts you up by the hips, wiggling down the bed so that his face is pressed to your cunt, mouth eagerly lapping at your clit. “Just a little more, sweetie. Just a little more for me,” he urges you, unrelenting and determined to fulfill his promise from earlier. Want to lick it up and make you come again and again and again on my tongue.

So you let him, moaning his name wantonly with his lips puckered around you, drinking every drop of you up until he’s had his fill, which is three more orgasms later. He starts stroking himself on the last one, a big smile on his shiny swollen lips as he kisses your clit. You whimper his name for the umpteenth time tonight, hips stiff from constantly grinding against him. Still, you think you could go longer, you want to, despite how exhausted you are. And while you know there’s more to look forward to with Choso, you don’t want this to end. You pull of him, readjusting yourself so that you’re facing the other way, in the perfect position to suck his cock. He growls beneath you, sloppily eating you out while you deep-throat him, hungry for his cum.

~~~

The two of you finally settle down for the night, cuddled in new blankets and bedsheets to replace the ones soaked with the aftermath of tonight’s lovemaking. Choso spoons you from behind, his face nuzzled to the nape of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent. He rubs your belly soothingly, voice a soft whisper on your skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

You smile, turning around to face him, snuggling into his chest. “I told you, I feel amazing. You don’t have to keep worrying.”

He kisses your forehead. “I just want to make sure you’re not sick of me yet.”

This time, you can’t help but laugh. “That’s impossible.” You listen to his heartbeat carefully, trying to memorize the steady rhythm of it. “I can’t get enough of you.”

[enwoso]

I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY — alessia russo

based loosely off the song by gracie abram’s. i rewrote this three times and i’ve got it to where i’m happy with it. wouldn’t say it’s my best but hey ho. if there’s part that don’t make sense i do apologise i wrote some of this while being half asleep🙃

ANYWAYS hope you all enjoy! it’s a long one<33

masterlist

"i miss you" her raspy voice echoed down your phone, as she slurred over and over how she missed you. the sound of the music blaring in the background told you that she was out in a club.

whilst you were sat on your couch at home, in some old joggers and a hoodie which most definitely had toothpaste stains on it. love island playing as you were catching up on the last few episodes you'd missed, which was playing just as white noise at the moment.

"alessia, you need to go and find the rest of the girls." you said bluntly, the blonde having told you moments before her i miss you rant that she was out with the arsenal girls, which you probably could have guessed anyways after there win in the league early in the day.

but you also wanted to get back to your series, wishing you weren't having this conversation with your ex but you also couldn't find it in yourself to just hang up on her as you didn't want her to be in any harm — especially while she was drunk.

why did you still care?

"i miss you, y/n" she slurred out again, you could imagine the stupid dopey smile on her face as she said the words, her drunken ramble continuing, "i wish you were here, i miss your cute smile and, and those lips. i miss everything about you."

"alessia can you please just go and find the girls" you begged not wanting to carry on hearing her pleads but you also couldn't bring yourself to press the red button which your finger had loomed over for the past ten minutes.

"i'm sorry for everything y/n, i know you hate me but i still love you, i promise" the blonde slowly slurred out again as you could hear the pout in her voice as she spoke.

you didn't hate her, well maybe you didn’t, you hadn't quite figured that out yet where the blonde stood in your mind.

more just trying to space yourself away from everything that happened with alessia however that proved pretty difficult when you both played football, maybe not for the same team anymore but you'd still see her at england camp.

"alessia, please can you just tell me who i can call to make sure your gonna be safe?" you hated that you still cared, that you had stayed on the phone listening to her ramble drunkenly on about you for the past twenty minutes.

knowing that by the morning she wouldn't even remember it or anything she had said so why were you sat listening?

"can you stop callin' me alessia. i'm baby, less, darling, pretty girl, gorgeous—" she began to rattle out all the names you used to call her, opening up another wound you had spent months healing as with each words she spoke you could feel her opening more and more.

"alessia! will you just answer the damn question!" you yelled down the phone, cutting her off as the frustration growing in your voice was obvious, your patience was wearing thin. you didn't want to hear her voice anymore.

hearing the blonde mumble something about your bluntness, as she hummed on probably trying to figure out herself who would be the best option.

"lotte."

after the drunken call you'd gotten from your ex, you hadn't heard anything from her. not that you expected her too. she wasn't yours to be worried about, but it had left you confused especially over her words. they lingered in the back of your mind. what if she meant it. drunk words are sober thoughts as they say after all.

you knew now though you were just strangers who show up but don't matter enough to each other to be friends. however deep down you knew you had too much history to be just strangers.

weeks had gone since that night and you were arriving at england camp for the set of friendlies which were happening in sunny spain, arriving with the rest of the manchester united girls, you knew she was here. you'd seen it on instagram.

so once you arrived you could feel the tension rising in your shoulders and your chest. grabbing your key for your room and heading straight up there wanting to avoid any chance of running into her.

you hadn't seen her since december, in the home game against arsenal. you both didn't say a word to each other, you wouldn't even look in her direction. so the thought of seeing her again was sending you into hard drive, you weren't sure how you'd react, if you'd react at all.

getting yourself changed and flopping onto the bed you'd call your own for the next ten days. your body realxing into the soft sheets, as you began to flick through the channels on the tv hoping that something would take your interest.

however, you only got two clicks in when there was knocks echoeing through your room. a loud groan coming from you as you pulled yourself up from the comfort of your bed, dragging your socked feet towards the door and opening it.

"mary-"

"come on, everyone's waiting for you to come down" mary interrupted you as you looked on with a confused look, "what for?"

"cause we're watching a film as a team and if your not there then we aren't a team!" mary stated as if it was obvious reaching out to grab your arm as you nodded.

"wait! let me get my keycard!" you said quickly, stopping the door from closing as you heard a tusk of the teeth from the goalkeeper as she mumbled out her complaints. grabbing your keycard off the side table and slipping the card into your pocket, praying you wouldn't forget where you'd put it.

walking down the corridors of the hotel complex the FA had situated the team in, side by side with mary it felt a little eerie. something felt off but you couldn't quite put a finger to it.

coming out the elevator as mary continued to chat your ears off, about anything and everything. from telling you what she did last weekend to what she had for breakfast this morning. but you didn't mind, you would class mary as one of your closest friends in football.

she'd been there for you from the very first day you started at united, helping you settle in to helping you navigate your feelings after she happened.

although you didn't say it very often, you were very thankful for her and you honestly dreaded to think where you'd be without mary, even more so in the past few months.

which is why- you were brought out your thoughts as you felt yourself walk into something or rather someone.

"i wasn't looking- sorry" the blonde mumbled stumbling over her words a little as she looked up from her phone, a slight look of shock on her face when she realised who she'd actually walked into.

"s'fine" you said simply, taking in the blonde’s appearance a little. her hair scraped back in a low bun,

the shorter strands sticking out of the bun. she'd cut her hair again, you could tell. dressed in a grey hoodie and some blue england shorts, her legs bare as her socks covered her feet.

her blue eyes which you'd spent many of your nights getting lost staring into— why were you still stood there?

forcing your body to move, not before catching her disappointed look on her face at the few words you'd spoke to her. the blonde looking as if she was going to say something but her lips pressed back together as she carried on walking the way she was going originally.

"well.. that was a tiny bit awkward!" mary murmured as an awkward laugh came from her, you totally forgetting that mary was stood next to you as you tried to steady your breathing to go back to normal.

"well you could have warned me!"

after the awkward interaction with the blonde in the hallway, you’d noticed her small looks towards you before she would quickly look away. probably in fear of you catching her staring at you.

it was now down time and you were sat on one of the sun lounges, hoping to catch a few of the sun rays. with your book in hand and a fresh bottle of ice cold water you had your afternoon sorted.

glancing every few minutes or whenever a loud cheer came from the girls who were playing a game in the pool. your eyes immediately looking for the blonde before you would switch your eyes to someone else.

"why don't you just talk to her?" mary had noticed you looking towards the blonde, especially in the past few days. the goalkeeper being sat on the lounger just next to you.

she'd known since the day you joined united and no matter how many times you would say you were over the blonde or that you didn't care. mary knew that couldn't be further from the truth, she could tell. she's didn't need you to admit it out loud to know.

but mary had been put in a little bit of a hard position when the break up happened. as she was close with both you and alessia. hearing both sides of the story and giving you both advice which from the older girl you both valued deeply. however mary always claimed herself to be switzerland when asked who side to take.

the only side mary was taking was the side where both her close friends were happy whether that was the two of you happy together again, or if that was you happy with someone else. although deep down she was hoping for the first option!

"talk to who?" you tried the oblivious act, as you turned the page of your book. your eyes trying to follow the words on the page.

pretending you didn't know who she was talking about in hopes you would avoid the topic all together as well as hoping the conversation would change. but you also knew how stubborn mary could be.

"y/n don't play thick with me, you know who i mean" mary gave you the pointed look that told you she wasn't going to give up until you gave her an answer.

"maz i- i can't." you stutters over your words as you saw the sympathetic nod and smile that the goalkeeper sent your way. mary understood why, but she was also close with a certain blonde and knew exactly how she felt.

"but what's stopping you? i know that brain of yours has been whizzing with questions since you know, it ended on a sour note" mary began as you placed your book on your chest, turning over to face mary listening to her as she spoke.

"you don't have to magically become best friends or even be friends for that matter, just what have you got to loose by talking to her?" mary shrugged, as you hummed looking up from the ground. you knew mary was right you didn't have anything else to loose.

"mhm i'll think about it"

you were in london, not by personal choice. united had been playing chelsea in the fa cup. after a full 90' minutes on the pitch you had been longing for your bed since the final whistle blew.

but you'd gone out and had a few drinks with the girls to celebrate before returning to the hotel as the some of the other girls where going off into the next club along the street.

you'd just gotten changed and was about to begin brushing your teeth when there was a quiet knock ringing around your hotel room. at first you thought you'd imagined it but the knocks continued this time a little louder and more continuous.

huffing and placing your toothbrush on the side of the sink, "mary! i haven't got-" you opened the door thinking it would be mary asking if you had a spare key card for her room except it wasn't.

"oh" you whispered as you stared at the last person you thought would be standing at your door just past midnight.

"alessia what are you doing here?" you asked dismissively, wondering how she even knew where you were staying.

"um i was hoping to talk.. to you" you could tell she was nervous, her quiet tone which had replaced her usual confident tone not only gave it away but the fact she was swaying slightly from side to side. a thing she did when she was overthinking something.

"at quarter past twelve in the morning?" you pointed out tiredly looking at her as she timidly nodded before opening her mouth again.

"it's just- i've been wanting to talk to you for ages but it never seemed like the right time- and mary she said where you were saying-" she explained as you still held the same confused look still not quite grasping the fact she was stood at your hotel door at stupid o'clock in the morning but maybe that was also the alcohol in your system slowing your thought process down.

the blonde noticed the hesitated look on your face. "i'm sorry, this is stupid- i'll go. forget i was ever here. i'm sorry" alessia spoke fast, beginning to spin on her heel, not giving you a chance to respond.

but you quickly before she got to far away grabbed her arm pulling her back towards you. why? you didn't know yourself but something inside you was telling you to hear her out.

"no, i'm just a little shocked, you can come in" you said shallowly, moving out the way as the blonde wondered into your hotel room. taking a deep breath in as you shut the door behind you reminding yourself mental to have a chat with mary tomorrow.

"so?" you asked, hoping she would get to why she was actually here watching from behind as the blonde took a seat on your bed, you sitting on the one opposite her.

"i just wanted to see where we stand with each other-" the blonde started as you scoffed a small smile appearing on your face it dropped just a quick as you realised she was serious, "really?"

"yes y/n, look i know you hate me and you have every right to but i just want us to be civil or friends or something. i don't know" the blonde huffed as you nodded slightly with what she was saying.

a silence filling up the room, and an awkward silence at that.

"i miss you and i'm sorry for the way things ended" alessia admitted as your head snapped up. memories of the words she said to you when she was drunk flooding back within a second.

you paused, your head spinning giving you a slight headache, but that could also be from the shots you had taken mere hours ago. “i don’t hate you..” you whispered. this time the blonde looking at you her head tilted slightly sensing the fact you weren’t finished with what you needed to say.

“you don’t?” alessia asked, a slight bit of relief coming over her as you shook your head.

“i don’t but you really fucking hurt me alessia, i know you moved to arsenal for your career. and i’m not trying to take anything away from you for that cause i’ll admit your shining there. but i was your girlfriend. i thought you loved me and you just threw me to the side as if i meant nothing as if our relationship meant nothing!” you paused, taking a deep breathe as you continued.

“i had to ask your fucking teammates how you were doing just to know if you were okay cause you couldn’t seem to find the time answer my messages or calls..” you trailed off, your eyes starting to fill with tears.

“do you know what that felt like, to feel so un-important to someone that i cared and loved so much and someone who was supposed to love me.” you breathed out rubbing over your eyes to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

alessia looked at you were pure sorrow in her eyes, a sad smile on her face as she looked down at her hands playing with the gold ring that sat on her middle finger on her left hand.

“i didn’t know..” alessia whispered, still sliding her ring on and off her hand unable to look at you as guilt filled her body from your confession.

“of course you didn’t! you never made an effort once you moved to london!” you spat back, instantly regretting the out-lash as you pinched the bridge of your nose. before moving from sitting opposite the blonde to sit next to her on your bed.

“all i want is a second chance, just as friends nothing more. i meant it when i said i miss you” alessia confessed as you hummed. “i could say it a thousand times that i’m sorry for what i put you through but that won’t do it justice, i just want for our past to be put behind us.. and i would like to get to know you, the new you. if that’s okay with you.” alessia smiled as you nodded.

“so friends then?” you asked, alessia moving her eye line to meet yours her smile still on her face. “friends!” she moved slightly forward to hug you but stopped half way thinking she misread the situation spluttering an apology out as you shook your head wrapping your arms around the blonde in a friendly hug, pulling away after a few seconds.

“so do you still like ketchup with everything?”

part of you should have known you could never just be friends with the blonde. after the night where you spent with her in your hotel room talking the entire night, getting to know each other. rediscovering old habits and discovering new ones.

you found yourself wanting her attention. needing it.

after getting only a few hours sleep that night, you having a hard time saying goodbye to her after only just gotten her back in your life after so long. you didn’t want to say bye, again.

“i don’t want to go” you whined like a child as you slowly did your hair as a giggle came from alessia who was sprawled out on the bed.

“you have to though! we can see each other soon” alessia promised as you still sat tying a hair tie in your hair a huff coming from you. “but that’s too long!”

“it won’t be, either i’ll come up to you or you can come down to me”

and much to both of your promises only a week later after constant messages and facetimes, you found yourself at the blondes apartment in london. finding your first next free day and getting the first train down.

as you spent the evening watching a film, both cuddled up on her couch eating dinner which she had prepared and made before the night coming to a close and as you were going to the guest bedroom, her hand capturing yours and pulling you into her room.

you weren’t gonna lie it did feel weird to be this close to her after so long trying to distance yourself from her, but everything you knew lead you back to her.

you were lying on her bed face to face, as her hand gently came up to move the strand of hair from your face.

a small sigh coming from you, you felt at peace again. as alessia looked at you with nothing but love in those blue eyes of her, looking at you as if you were the only person in the world.

her hand dropping from your face, but before it could drop to its original place you grabbed it. lacing your hand between her, you noticing how your hands fitted perfectly together. together like a puzzle piece.

"i love you so much." she said quietly, a slight smile appearing on your face. but just as quickly as your hand laced with hers, she kissed you.

you responded with such enthusiasm that alessia was a little taken aback at first, but regained her thoughts and reminded herself of what was happening.

alessia was really kissing you.

you were really kissing her.

a feeling you'd been craving for just under a year, since the last time she set foot in your apartment in manchester. when she kissed you goodbye on the cheek, as you stood there shoulders sunken in and lifeless.

nothing could have meant more than her, nothing could have have more beauty than this moment. the way her hands pressed into your chest, the way her blue eyes fluttered closed. you fit into her like a glove, her kiss was like the beating of a butterfly's wings. so soft and wholesome until it became addictive.

and in those few moments you were reminded of why you fell for alessia in the first place. her scent was what you craved. you wanted to have her close to you, unsure where she ended and you began. you’d rather walk through hell again and again then lose her again.

her entrancing eyes, her captivating smile against your lips, her laugh when you did something silly, her hair which now hung just at her shoulder height as she looked at you, her raspy morning voice, her love was everything to you.

but your stupid, stupid lungs had to find air again, as you pulled away from her still lingering in close proximity to her. somehow alessia had moved position as she was now hovering over you, as she straddled you.

she was looking down at you with such an inviting warmth that you wanted to kiss her again, the silence still lingered as she pulled away you adjusting yourself to sit a little upright. a heat rising to your face.

"sorry, i-i shouldn't have..." you trailed of quietly looking at your fingers playing with the rings that you wore.

"what do you mean?" she said softly, watching the your worry struck face. "that wa- it's okay love"

"o-okay?" your voice was hoarse. you cleared your throat, laughing a little before she made the move to kiss you again.

"we'll take it slow, i promise. but i know what i want and that for you to be in my future and if i have to wait then that's what i'll do." alessia spoke with such reassurance and pureness, that made your heart beat just that little faster as you nodded.

a small smile coming onto the blondes face as she leaned forwards to place a gentle kiss onto your cheek.

"i love you, so much."

[xxchumanixx]

Could you make a part two for doomed🙏 like imagine Tim knocking on her door a week into her being a rookie and she says "what are you doing here" "im here for round two" or somthing like that😭 idk I'm not a writer but you get it.

Pretty please with a cherry on top

Doomed pt. 2

Tim Bradford x rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), fluff, angst (but only if you squint) Word count: 1.407 Authors note: Hello love, here is part 2! I know its a little short, but maybe I'll do a part 3. Also, I made a month out of the week, just for the purpose of the story.

Read part one here

Enjoy!

It had been a month, and it already felt like years.

Having had the best sex of your life with Tim, then finding out you're his rookie, didn't go too well. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, but it made matters only worse.

More than once, you had the urge to just hide in a bathroom and rub it out. Of course, you didn't. You didn't want to risk your job or someones life, so you sat it out until your shift was over.

You were horny, and if you didn't find someone comparable to Tim - pardon, officer Bradford - anytime soon, you would explode.

But, would it be that easy to find a comparison? Especially when you saw his face everyday, reminding you of the blissful night you had spent together.

His mere presence was torture, his voice and his scent messing with your head. You had trouble concentrating, something he noticed. He had asked what was up with you, but you lied - You couldn't tell him that you wanted to have sex with him after all, right?

It would have been highly appropriate, not to mention strictly forbidden by the LAPD.

But you weren't the only one feeling this way, as you'd soon enough realized.

At the end of your first month, someone knocked on your door, just when you were about to go to sleep. Sighing, you walked towards the door, as it knocked again.

"I'm coming!" you grumbled, opening it, ready to yell at whoever dared to knock at this time of night. You were already late to bed, still hoping to get a little sleep, before you would have to face him yet again.

But, when you saw who it was, you halted.

"Officer Bradford?" you asked in confusion, as you noticed his labored breathing, not giving you any time, before he pushed you backwards, closing the door behind him in one fluid motion.

"Wha-" you wanted to say, but he cut you off, as he pulled you towards him, his lips meeting yours.

Overwhelmed, you needed a moment to respond, before your hands wrapped around his neck, tugging him even closer.

This had to be a dream.

The kiss was demanding and hot, there was nothing sweet about it. It was impatient, tongue and teeth.

His hands wandered up your body, brushing over the curves of your breasts, before they grabbed your face, tilting your head backwards to deepen the kiss.

You whimpered, hands brushing under his shirt and over his defined abs. His skin trembled under your touch, as he slowly inched you backwards, until your back hit the wall.

Letting go to fill your lungs with much needed air, his eyes found yours. Pupils blown wide, he licked his lip, before his gaze averted.

"What are you doing here?" you wanted to know, still breathless. Maybe you should have asked earlier, if you'd have had the chance to do so.

He took a shuddering breath, looking back up. "You said I could come over." he started, swallowing. "For a round two." Huffing over his own words, he took a step back, eyes falling to the floor.

"But now I'm not sure anymore."

Your brows furrowed, having trouble to follow him. Sighing, you closed the distance again, trying to make him look at you. "Tim." you spoke softly, his eyes finding their way back to yours.

"What made you change your mind?"

"You're my rookie, Y/N." he quietly spoke, desperately fighting the urge to press his lips to your own, sealing your fate with a searing kiss.

You were mere inches apart, a boundary you had already crossed moments ago.

"I know." you murmured, and you swore his eyes fluttered closed for a split second. "But can you really deny what you feel?"

He swallowed again, inhaling shakily.

"No."

With that, his lips met yours again, as his body pressed to yours, holding you close with his hands on your back and waist.

Sighing, you returned the kiss, pulling him impossibly closer.

It didn't take you long to make your way to your bed, both in your underwear by the time you reached it. He climbed on top of you, fingers dancing over your heated skin.

His lips trailed down your throat, making you dizzy, as his fingers slipped between your thighs. Gasping, your back arched off the mattress, as one of his fingers pressed against your still covered clit.

"Fuck." you moaned, as it rubbed hard against the sensitive spot. His lips found their way back to yours, as his hand slipped inside your panties.

You squirmed under him, his fingers teasing your cunt, before two of them slipped inside. You moaned, dragging your nails over his back, making him hiss in return, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

When he was pounding into you only minutes later, he made you see stars, all the while moaning and panting, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn't take him long to push you over it, having changed position only moments before, so you were sitting on top of him, bodies firmly pressed together, as he pounded into you.

Screaming out his name, you came, pulling him with you as you clenched down around him, making him hiss, before he came as well.

Panting, your movements stilled, trying to calm your racing hearts and trembling bodies.

But with the calmness, came realization.

"Fuck." you breathed out, as you realized what you just did. He fell backwards against your pillows, letting go of the breath he must've held in.

"Yeah, fuck."

Climbing off him, you started to frantically collect your clothes, putting them back on. He listened to you moving, his chest heaving up and down.

Throwing his shirt at him, you rubbed your temples, trying to make sense of the situation.

He sat up, looking at you with his shirt in his hands.

"What now?" he wanted to know, eyes following you, as you started to pace, but stopped at his words. "What now?" you repeated, huffing. "You tell me! You're my supervisor!"

What seemed to be all you wished for minutes ago, seemed like the biggest mistake of your life now.

He was your TO, your supervisor and trainer - you shouldn't even think about having sex with him, yet you just had a round two of the best sex of your life.

He sighed, fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

"Let's face it." he halfheartedly suggested, shoulders shrugging. "I don't think that we will be able to just suppress it. It took us a month of torturing ourselves until we broke the rules. I don't think this won't happen again."

"It's forbidden." you reminded him, biting on your thumbnail. You knew that he was right, though. You wouldn't be able to withstand him, and neither would he.

He sent you a pointed look. "It's not like we didn't just break the rules." he sassed, eyes widening as he shook his head to emphasize his words.

Rolling your eyes, you licked your lip, before biting down on the soft cushion.

"I know." you mumbled, swallowing, as you looked away. "But I'm scared."

He sat up, the bed sheets ruffling, before he walked towards you, bringing your gaze back to his with a finger on your chin.

"I know that you're scared." he spoke softly, eyes locked onto yours. "And I'm not saying, that we have to do this - I would never pressure you or anything. But I know, that I won't be able to let this - you - go. If you don't feel comfortable with it, then I will ask for you to get another TO. Or you tell me to go and forget about it, then I'll do that."

You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, taking a second to think about his words.

You couldn't deny that you wanted him, not when he was so palpable, right in front of you - offering himself for you to take.

"Okay." you agreed, nodding with a half smile on your face. He cocked a brow in question, and you sighed, somewhat relieved.

"I want this as well, Tim. But I don't want another TO - only if you want to be replaced, or if it's too risky for you."

He huffed in amusement, a smile splitting his lips.

"Risky is my second name, baby."

<- Part one Part three ->

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x commentator!reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3