#*shakes him* I WANT YOU AROUND BUT I CAN’T DECIDE WHERE TO PUT YOU

[heesimp]

I lwk keep imagining Heeseung doing a livestream and you’re just sitting there bored and decide to give him head when he’s talking to his fans like>>>> help😭🙏🙏

HOT. au where idol!heeseung’s sextape gets leaked so he becomes a pornstar instead. bye

also I thought about this tiktok/live the entire time I wrote this ha

-

“What time is it for me? Oh, I think it’s midnight…Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

Heeseung sits behind his desk and leans against his gaming chair, giving his fans a small peek of his bedroom. They can see his door and artwork that keeps on his shelves and walls but they can’t see the bed where you lay sleeping peacefully with your back turned.

“Missed you guys,” he says with his voice kept low. His eyes flicker over the screen of his monitor to see you naked underneath his sheets. “Why am I talking quietly? It’s night time, isn’t it? I don’t want to wake the members up.”

They seem to buy it for now. Heeseung’s soft melodies that put you to sleep still air throughout the room, songs that describe sex and sensuality floating around as it permeates within the chat room of his livestream. He sees the comments—ones he can read—and smirks when the people watching him call him out for the nasty lyrics.

It takes him back to just thirty minutes prior when he was making a mess of you on his bed, shoving his cock and fingers so deep in your hole that he was sure you’d feel him as melodic lyrics talk about having sex all day and night. He hasn’t seen you in a while due to busy schedules but now that he has his own room and the walls are relatively thick, he’s got no problem plowing into you without abandon.

“Wet the bed? Yeah, that’s a good song.” Heeseung rubs his chin and flicks his eyes over to you before looking back at the chat. “What am I looking at? What do you mean? What could I possibly be looking at?”

The uptick in his voice sends his chat room in a frenzy. He feels like he might as well be high off his last orgasm and knows his fans can sense his change of attitude. Seeing you half naked in his bed doesn’t help calm his mind anyway.

Heeseung chats with these strangers for a while before you stir. The music drowns out the sound of his bedsheets ruffling and he turns up the music just a smudge in case you make any more noise. To his pleasure, you turn to face him and immediately catch that he’s on a livestream with the glow on his face.

“I’m not tired,” Heeseung says after a beat of silence, looking at his monitor before looking at you. The sight of your naked chest makes him bite his lips, tits spilling out of the blanket as you do your best to sit upright and cover yourself. “Not tired at all. Are you guys tired?”

His cock jumps when you shake your head. “I could keep going.” Heeseung’s attention returns to the screen as he runs his free hand through his hair. “You guys are too funny. What do you mean, why am I acting like this?”

Your tired eyes seem to understand exactly what he means and your own mind drifts over to what transpired before you fell asleep. With a careful step, you make room for yourself underneath the desk and let Heeseung situate himself in his chair as you spread his legs by pushing his knees apart.

This isn’t the first time the two of you have fooled around on a livestream but it is the first time he’s done it with his camera on. Heeseung loves looking at his comments as you get him off and loves all of the tweets and posts after the fact, speculating that he might’ve been distracted during the livestream. These scenarios fuel him to keep going and he thinks he might have a little taste for exhibitionism.

He looks down at you. Your cheek rests against his knee and his thumb comes to brush just underneath your eye with a gentle touch. He bites his lip when he looks past your eyes and sees you completely naked underneath him, tits bouncing as you get comfortable with your bare pussy towards the floor.

“Mm,” he moans subtly. “Can’t wait for the weekend. We don’t have any plans, for once. What are you guys up to?”

Heeseung pretend to grab his water in order to lift his hips from the desk and let you pull his boxers down. His cock is still soft before you. Your lips come to press gentle, quiet kisses over his warm dick while he gulps the water down and flexes his thighs to keep himself calm underneath your mouth.

“Coming to Korea? Wow.” Your tongue moves over the head of his cock and repeatedly licks over his slit in a back and forth motion, which makes him choke and cough. “You’ll love it here. I know I do.”

You pay no mind to him with his subtle flirtation as you work up his cock until it’s hard. Heeseung is always like this, so sensitive that one touch makes him harder than a rock in no time. Being on the road and away from you is tough and his hand can only do so much. Your warm mouth dropping spit to coat him for a blowjob is what keeps him hard.

“What’s up with my music?” Heeseung laughs, biting his lip as you engulf his tip in your mouth. Your wet tongue is warm to the touch and his balls feel heavy with you around him. “Nothing. I just like these songs.”

That’s not a total lie. He loves them because he fucked you to this music before turning on his camera. You give his balls a squeeze when you catch him in the lie and Heeseung winces, trying to hold in his moan.

“You guys are hearing things,” he tells the chat when they start speculating that someone might be in the room with him. “Why do I keep looking down? I don’t know. I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Another lie, but you let him go this time. You push your head down to force the entirety of his cock in your mouth and feel as his hips jerk at the sudden movement. Heeseung can only smile painfully and hold in his grunts while the camera is on him. Looking down at you isn’t an option since his fans have caught on to his line of sight but the thought of getting caught turns him on. He’d probably invite them to watch you suck him off if that wouldn’t cost him his job.

You look so cute on your knees like this for him. Heeseung avoids looking down at you but sees your mouth move from his peripheral vision and holds your hair out of your face as you push yourself up and down on him. You’re insanely wet to the point where you might as well be dripping right onto the hard wood of his floors. Hearing him talk to his fans about everything but what’s happening is turning you on far more than you’d like to admit. Seeing him flirt with fans on stage fuels your jealousy and winds up in mind blowing sex when he comes back home to you. You’re the only girl he’d ever want around his dick anyway.

You know Heeseung is close by the tightened grip he has on your hair and the way he flexes his nostrils because he can’t make a sound.

“When am I coming back to America?” Heeseung asks after reading a message. “I’m coming—”

He does, right into your mouth until his salty cum coats the surface of your tongue. You swallow him with his cock still lodged in you and suck him with an iron grip while he tries to answer the question but it’s so hard for him to focus when you’re sucking him like that.

“—in a while, I think.” Heeseung winces when you start to kitten lick his slit to catch the stray beads of cum that seeps from him. “Yeah. I’d love to come.”

[dalishious]

Veilguard Companion First Impressions

So, I’ve finally recruited all the companions for the Veilguard! And as such, I thought I’d share my initial thoughts on them each.

Please keep in mind that as the title says, these are just my first impressions. I am nowhere near finishing the game yet. My thoughts very well may change after getting to know the characters more as the story progresses. Also, please do not take any opinions you do not share as a personal attack against you.

Bellara

Bellara might be my #1 favourite.

I’ve seen some people just say Bellara is “a Merrill rip-off” but I don’t think that’s fair at all. If all it took was a few similarities to say a character is a rip-off of another character, than I can think of so many boring white cishet male characters who would be guilty of that. But heaven forbid we get more than one elven woman who is passionate about her people’s culture and history!

Frankly, I think Bellara is a breath of fresh air in terms of Dalish characters specifically. Finally, a Dalish elf who isn’t punished for being proudly Dalish by the narrative.

I also really appreciate that so much of her can be easily understood by her backstory, too. Like, her feelings of never being good enough is reflective of the very realistic grief she is experiencing.

Lucanis

If Bellara isn’t my #1 favourite, then Lucanis is. They really both dominate that spot neck in neck. I can’t decide if I want to put him in a jar and shake it to see what happens, or wrap him up tight in a quilt and give him some good coffee.

I’m just a sucker for Lucanis’s character archetype, is the thing. I love taking him out simply because he’s so much fun to have around. And in terms of companion arcs, his is the one I am most intrigued to see where it goes.

Taash

(While I haven’t personally gotten to Taash’s non-binary plot yet, I am aware Taash switches to they/them pronouns, so that’s what I’ll be using.)

The moment I met Taash felt my heart skip a beat. The only thing hotter than their appearance is their voice. I know BioWare probably left Taash out of a lot of the advertising because they wanted to keep Taash’s gender stuff a surprise, but oh my god, because of this I was taken by quite the surprise. And so far Taash seems to be the type to keep a hard outer shell to protect a much softer side, and that is yet another character archetype I really love.

Davrin

My initial gripe about Davrin’s writing being so exclusively about Assan rather than Davrin himself is slowly peeling away, I hope. While I still think its bullshit that you can welcome Assan into the Veilgaurd but not Davrin, at least I’ve finally gotten a few bits of dialogue to get to know more about him finally. I just want to keep this momentum! Because Davrin as a concept has so much potential, in my opinion, and what little bits I have gotten from him have captivated me. But I can’t tell yet if it’s intentionally part of his character that maybe he’s just a closed off person who takes a while to trust others, (a little like Taash?) Or if the writer just cared more about griffons than the actual guy. I’m really, really holding out hope for the former.

Emmrich

Emmrich is so much more charming than I expected, and I found him instantly endearing the moment we met him. I also really like that we’re finally hearing some different stances and insight on death and necromancy than we ever had before from a companion! It makes him feel so fresh and completely new!

Harding

I’ll be real with you: I was not anticipating caring about Harding so much. She was who I was originally least interested in, when the companion line-up was announced. But the direction they’re taking her in has me questioning so much about bigger lore questions.

Unfortunately, I still don’t see much in her except being a vessel for those bigger lore questions, though. Like, Harding as a person has me mildly curious at best.

Neve

I’m really sorry Neve fans, but I just find her really boring so far, in comparison to everyone else. She doesn’t have a lot going on, and what she does have going on, doesn’t really captivate me much. Maybe I was just hoping she’d have stronger stances on things than she does? I don’t know.

It could be that I just really fucked up with Neve, and it won’t be until another playthrough that I’ll get to experience more that will change my mind. Because I will admit I am very good at picking choices she disapproves of, with my first Rook.

[3xoticyanna]

I got you forever

Paring: KK Arnold x mom!reader

Summary: Your mom had died due to bad heart problems and your father was never in the picture so you had to step up to take care of your younger brother how was a freshman in high school while your a freshman in college soon you started dating kk but haven’t told her about your brother scared that she will leave you, kk starts to get suspicious why you been sneaking around her so she decides to confront you

Warnings: a little Arguing. my bad spelling

From yanna: I didn’t mean to make this so long😭 I hope y’all like it but am back to writing finally😌

“Brandon hurry up before you be late!” you yelled from the kitchen. it was your brother first day of high school you wanted it to be perfect.

“I’m ready, can you with my hair?” putting your keys in your pocket as you nod your head pushing him to the bathroom “get the gel and brush out, I be there in a minute”.

Walking to your room grabbing the box on your dresser. walking into the bathroom to see Brandon on his phone “Here you can open it now or later” handing him the box as you took his hair out of his ponytail.

he opened the box to see a necklace with a picture with you and him, he started at it for a sec you looked at him nervous “do you like it?” he nodded his head a smile coming on his face “yeah I like it thank you but you didn’t have to get me this” shrugging your shoulders slightly “I know but I wanted to”

A hour Later!

Walking up to kk dorm, you had drop off Brandon at school happy knowing he was going to enjoy high school.

The door open to a angry kk, walking in with confused look on your face “kk what wrong?” you ask only to be ignored calling out her name a couple of times. getting frustrated as she sat on the couch on her phone “kk answer me and stop being petty”.

kk turned her head towards you with no emotion on her face “Where were you?, you was supposed to pick me up so when can go on our date” her tone was demanded making you nervous.

“I over slept am sorry, I been stress over school you know that” you said half the of the truth, kk rolled her eyes not blelive any of it “Yeah yeah sure”.

“What that supposed to mean?” crossing your arms as you look at kk disbelief on your face “nothing i believe you” “you know I don’t care be mad all you want am leaving” kk looks at you not saying anything once again “Fine act like that then” you say walking out the door slamming the door as your did.

1 Week Later!

It’s been a week since you talk to kk you could admit it. It was petty but you couldn’t tell her about Brandon not yet at least or maybe never, you been down all week but trying to hide it from Brandon but knowing you can’t.

“Sis what’s wrong you been sad all week don’t think I didn’t notice” turning your head to look at your brother knowing you can’t hide anything from him “Me and kk got into fight” he sits next you putting his arms around you “What was it about?”.

laughing a bit about how stupid it is “Um just me not making enough time for her” “is it because of me?” Quickly shaking your head at his question looking down at your lap “No never it’s just that I haven’t told her about you” you say quietly “What?, you said you tell her” letting out a huff “I know but am Scared she leave me” Brandon moves his arm from around you making you face him all the way “Look if she loves you she wouldn’t mind if you have a kid”.

Laughing at his seriousness but nodding your head “Your right, do you want to meet her tomorrow?” “Mhm I guess but if I don’t like her she gotta go” he joked but half serious “Ok ok little boy, now let’s go make dinner” getting up wrapping your arm around your brother shoulder walking to the kitchen.

The Next Day!

You and Brandon waited at kk dorm door nervous sat in your body waiting for someone to open the door.

The door was open by Paige who stared at you then Brandon she point at Him then putting two together you open your mouth to say something before you hear kk shout “Paige who’s at the door?!” Feeling nervous as Paige let’s y’all in, you see kk on the couch watching a game one of her favorite shows “Paige omg who’s at the door!” kk yelled once again going silent once she saw you her face scrunching up in confusion.

“who’s this” she ask looking at your brother who was staring right back at her, you stood there for a bit trying to find the words, feeling a nudge from your brother “come on tell her”.

“Um can we speak just me and you?” you ask not wanting to do this in front of her roommates who were all in the living room.

She gets open from the couch grabbing your hand leading you to her bedroom closing the door behind her, nothing was said for a bit as y’all look at each other “um so that my brother look am sorry fo-” before you could finish kk engulfed you in a hug “it’s ok I understand why” the tears started to fall from your eyes hiding your face in her shoulder as you began to sob as you tried to form words out but nothing came out.

All the worry and nervousness you felt went away as you cried in your girlfriends arms. you soon fell asleep in kk arms, she moved you into a comfortable position walking to her closet grabbing a blanket covering you with it place a soft kiss on your cheek walking out the room closing door quietly behind her.

Walking into the living room seeing Brandon talking to Paige at the table.

Brandon turned his head to looking at kk confused to see her by herself “Where my sister at?” he says in a rude tone.

kk was a little shock at his rudeness but realizing he was just concerned for his sister “She fine. she fell asleep” she says sitting down at the table next to him only to receive a dirty look for him.

“Um so like how old are you??” kk ask not sure what to say “14 I turn 15 in next month” the air awkward as he answered, kk look at Paige for help not knowing what to say.

Paige only shock her head not knowing either,they say in more silence as kk said the first question that came to mind “so do you do any sport?” she watch Brandon face light up at the question as he shook head “Yeah i do track basketball and football I just got into volleyball too” he said he couldn’t hold back his excitement as he continued to talk more about his hobbies. Kk began to feel a smile come on to her face as the watch Brandon talk she could get use to this.

Couple Hours Later!

Opening your eyes looking around the room not seeing kk with you. Getting up walking over to kk closet grabbing a shirt and shorts changing into them.

Walking out the room being meet with kk and Brandon doing just dance as kk roommates recording kk as she lost to Brandon for the 3rd time.

“Bro i hate this game!” kk yelled as your brother laugh at the angry girl, finally turning there head’s hearing you clear your throat. “Hi baby!, how did you sleep?” Kk says walking over to you engulfing you into a hug place kiss all over your face.

“I slept fine kk” wrapping your arms around her, waving at Brandon who give y’all a disgusting look “Can y’all not do this in front of my please” letting out a laugh as moved away from kk walking over to your brother “you be fine now shut up so I can beat you in just dance” you shove him lightly as you start the game.

Kk watch you have fun with your brother, you look so happy even if she didn’t have this in mind for her College experience she just happy to see you happy.

[starchaseriseverything]

You can’t hold me here, Mother!”

“I am your mother, Regina!” Walburga yells back. “You will listen to me!”

“I can leave any time I want!” Regina yells. “Sirius and Andromeda did! So why can’t I!?”

“You have no one to go to, Regina.” Walburga walks up to her. “Absolutely no one. No one cares about you. Not even I.”

“Fuck you, Mother . I hate you.” She sneers. “I will always hate you. I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.”

Walburga smacks her daughter’s cheek. “I can and will.” Regina holds her cheek and runs up the stairs. She slams her door and locks it so her mother can’t get in. She flops down on her bed and stares at the letter sitting on the desk. She hasn’t read it yet, but she knows if she wants closer, she’ll have to. She stands up and sits down in the chair, gently grabbing the letter and slowly opening it. The first word she reads is, Regulus. Regina takes a shaky inhale and starts reading the whole letter.

Regulus, you can get away. You can run from that house. I did and I made it. You can, too. Andy and Uncle Alphard made it. It’s time for you to get out of there, too, Reggie. And I know mother still calls you by your deadname. That’s not right, Reg. You have been going by Regulus since you were twelve and it’s time you get away from people who still call you Regina. I know James would love to see or even hear about you living your best life, even if it’s not with him.

Either way, just tell me what you’re feeling. If you don’t want to run, that’s fine. You still have me to talk to. But if you do run, Effie and Monty have a room for you and your friends are waiting here for you, too. They wait by the door or even sleep in your room sometimes waiting for you, and even if they don’t admit it, they miss you and want you out of that house just like they got out of theirs. I know they’d be happy if you just ran and didn’t stop running until you decided to call someplace home, even if that wasn’t with them. So, just, please, get out of there and live your best life whether that’s with us or without us, it doesn’t matter, just get out of there.

Love, your brother, Sirius

Regina smiles at the letter and stands up and grabs a suitcase from her closet and starts shoving clothes in it. Which is weird because she’s a neat freak and hates when things are all messy, especially when people just throw stuff, but her brother is right, it’s time she gets out of that house and away from her parents. So, instead of weeping in her room all day, she decided to get out of there, forever.

She runs down the stairs with her suitcase in hand and just runs, runs right out the door and doesn’t stop until she finds someplace hidden. She then pulls out her wand and apparates where she’s been many times, The Potter residence.

She smiles at the door before ringing the doorbell and putting her wand away. An older lady answers the door. “Hello. I don’t think we were expecting anyone today.” She backs up. “Come. Come in.” She then walks to the steps and yells, “Kids! Were you expecting anyone today!?”

“No, Mum!” A boy yells back and Regina closes her eyes, recognizing it immediately, James’s voice.

The older woman hums and turns back to her. “Well, then, what is your name?”

“Regi- Regulus. Regulus Black.”

The woman gasps. “Oh my. Should I call Sirius down? Or Barty? Or any of your other friends?”

Regulus shakes his head. “No. I think I'll surprise them.” Regulus sets his suitcase down by the door. “Just a quick question.”

Effie stops and turns around. “What is it dear?”

“How many of my friends are here? Living here?”

Effie hums and starts counting on her fingers. “Well, there’s Lily, Dorcas, Barty, Pandora, Evan, Sirius, Remus, Emma, Aurora, and my son, James.”

“Why do you let everyone live here?”

“Because it’s the nice thing to do and that’s just how my parents taught me.” Effie chuckles a little. “Well, not this nice, but that’s just how I am and how I raised James to be. Some people don’t have good homes like James does, so they need someplace to live or even stay for a few days and that’s what I give them. A place to stay or one to live. Most choose to live but some, like Peter and Alice and Frank, they choose to stay for the summer or a few days because they have nice homes and would miss their family too much. It’s just what this family does, sweetheart, and I hope you get to be a part of that.”

Regulus smiles. “I hope so too.”

“So, I need to make another bedroom?”

Regulus nods. “Yeah, I’m living.”

***

“My sweet,” Regulus says, lovingly. “We are not having another child.”

“But-”

“Three is enough.”

James sighs and flops down in the chair behind him. “I think we should.” He mumbles.

“No.” Regulus replies, sternly.

“Why can’t we-”

“It’s not your body, now is it?”

James’s face falls and he leans his head on his hand. “You know-”

“No, James.”

“Fine!” James groans. “I won’t put another baby inside you.”

“Good.”

“Guess that means we can never do the fun stuff again.”

Regulus’s head whips up from his book. “What?” James looks to the other side of him. “James,”

“What?” He asks, turning his head back to him. “What is it, love?” Regulus opens his mouth but closes it again. He doesn’t even know what to say to that. James sighs and stands up to stretch. “Well, better get to bed.”

“James, It’s ten.”

“So?”

“AM.”

“So?”

“It’s still morning.”

“So?”

“You just woke up.”

“So?”

“You are not going to bed, James.”

“Are you bossing me around?”

Regulus nods and goes back to his book. “Yep.”

“You said I can't do that.”

“That’s you.”

“So, it’s different when you do it?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It just is.”

James hums and walks towards his husband. “Really?” Regulus hears the change in his voice and gulps. Regulus nods back, not being able to get anything out. James takes Regulus’s book and sets it on the stand beside him. When Regulus doesn’t look up, James guides his head up to his. “How is it different?” He whispers.

Regulus gulps again. “It just is.”

James hums and nods. “Yeah?”

Regulus nods. “Yeah.”

“Papa! Daddy!” Euphemia screams, running towards them. James straightens up quickly and looks over to their daughter.

“What, dulce chica?”

“Can we go to the park?” The black-haired girl asks, jumping up and down in excitement.

James looks over to Regulus, he shrugs in return. James looks back to the girl. “Of course. Go tell your brother and sister to get ready.” Mia smiles and runs off, yelling for her siblings. James chuckles and turns back to Regulus. “We can’t ever have any peace, can we?”

Regulus shakes his head at his husband. James leans down and kisses his lips before walking down the hallway to make sure they’re ready in time.

***

Regulus laughs as both him and James lift up their daughter that’s in between them and she squeals. Leo’s walking beside Regulus and holding his other hand while their oldest daughter is walking beside James. Regulus looks in front of them to a woman approaching them. Regulus inhales a breath when he realizes who it is. Walburga.

She glares at the two before looking at the three kids next to them. She bends down in front of the girl in between them and smiles. “Hi.” She says as James tries to hold their daughter back but she just pulls his hand to make him stop. She’s still holding onto her fathers hand when Walburga speaks again. “What’s your name?”

“Euphemia. But Papa and Daddy call me Mia.”

She smiles at the young girl. “Hello, Mia.” She turns to the young boy by Regulus’s side after glaring at the man holding onto his hand still. “What’s your name?”

“Leo.” He mumbles softly.

“Hi, Leo.” Finally, she glares at James then turns to the red-haired girl beside him. “What’s your name?”

Rose holds up her hand in front of her father and he takes it, putting their entwined hands beside them. “Papa said not to talk to strangers.” Rose mumbles.

“But I’m not a stranger.” The older woman says. “Your parents aren’t doing anything to tear you away, are they?” Rose shakes her head. “So, what’s your name?”

“Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Walburga, but you can call me Wally.”

“Wally?” Euphemia asks, giggling.

Walburga smiles at the girl.

“Isn’t Wally who grandma always talks about?” Rose asks, looking up to her father. James looks down at her.

“I wouldn’t know. Your grandma doesn’t talk to me about stuff like that.” She looks over to her dad this time. Regulus doesn’t answer, still in shock. Rose turns back to the lady as Mia and Leo laugh. She made them laugh. Regulus thinks. She made my kids laugh.

Regulus snaps out of his daze. “Come on, let’s go to the park.”

“But, I wanna stay.” Leo whines.

“Let’s go see Aunt Lily and Aunt Pandora, then.”

“Eclipse and Luna?” Mia asks, looking up to her dad.

Regulus nods. “And Harry, Lillian, and Lewis.”

Euphemia jumps up and down and pulls her fathers down the sidewalk past Regulus’s mother. Regulus looks back to her as they pass. She smiles at him and turns around to walk away. Regulus turns his head back in front of him. She smiled? What kind of sick bitch smiles?

-

Walburga kept a straight face throughout the whole funeral for her husband. She didn’t cry once because ‘Black’s don’t cry’, at least that’s what her mother always said. So, she hasn’t cried since she was seven. She didn’t want to get crucio’d again. She didn’t even cry when she married Orion, her cousin, when she wanted to marry someone else. They were even talking about their future together when her mother brought up her engagement. Her engagement that was set from the time she was born. The one where she couldn’t get out of it even if she tried. And oh did she try, but her mother always brought her back, time and time again every time.

Euphemia was the love of her life and she couldn’t ever marry her. Ever. So, instead of telling her about the engagement that was set before she was born, she decided to just break it off. And it wasn’t the best way to go about it, either. They had a horrible fight over something she can’t even remember now. Probably something stupid, maybe something important. Walburga couldn’t remember even if she tried.

A few months after their break up in Hogwarts, she was dating a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor that's nice and generous, unlike her, he’s perfect for her. She’s kind and generous and so much more. He doesn’t deserve her and neither did she. After Hogwarts walburga got an invitation to a wedding, one called ‘The Potter Wedding’. Walburga rolls her eyes at the ridiculous name. (Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous) Potter always was like that, one for stupid things. But I guess there’s two Potter’s now. She thinks.

Walburga was surprised by the invitation, not because Effie remembered her, but because she wanted her there. Walburga sighs and slouches in the arm chair, dropping the invitation on the floor as she pulls her hand to her forehead and holds up her head with it.

She can’t go. She never could. She can’t be associated with a blood-traitor, but Salzar does she wish she could. She wishes she cried then, but she didn’t not for years after that. The first time she cried since seven was when Sirius left. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to accept her daughter as the heir, it was because she wishes her daughter went with her son. To get away from this family even though she couldn’t. She was happy one child didn’t turn out like her and she knows her children talked about not turning into her.

She wishes she could’ve stayed with her promise. The one where she promised her brothers to not turn out like their parents, but instead, she did, and so did her youngest brother. The middle brother, though, he got out just like her niece and son. That was the first night she cried over her brother, her niece, her son, and her daughter all in one go.

The second time Walburga cried was when Regina left right after their argument. Their argument that was supposed to be a simple conversation in which Walburga subtly nudged her to leave the house, but turned into a full-blown argument. At least she left. Walburga thought.

So, when Walburga was walking in the park one day and sees someone who looks exactly like her daughter, she realizes her daughter isn’t her daughter, they’re her son. Walburga smiles and about walks away to cry, but sees the smile on her son's face as he lifts up a girl with another man. The little girl laughs and gets set back on the ground. Her son is holding a little boy’s hand and the other man is trying to get the other girl to hold his other hand.

She decides to walk up to them, but doesn’t show her smile. She’s gotten good at that over the years, having to hide her excitement and discomfort. She couldn’t when she was with Effie, though. She always brought out the emotions in her. All of them.

She glares at the two men, not wanting to show them she actually cares and squats down in front of the girl and smiles. “Hi.” She says. “What’s your name?”

“Euphemia. But Papa and Daddy call me Mia.”

Named after her grandmother. Walburga thinks. She smiles again at the young girl. “Hello, Mia.” She turns to the young boy by Regulus’s side after glaring at the man holding onto his hand still. “What’s your name?”

“Leo.” He mumbles softly.

“Hi, Leo.” Finally, she glares at the other man, not wanting to reveal she cares, then turns to the red-haired girl beside him. “What’s your name?”

The red-haired girl reaches her hand up to her fathers to hold hands. He does and puts them at their sides. “Papa said not to talk to strangers.” Rose mumbles.

“But I’m not a stranger.” She is, but her son isn’t doing anything. “Your parents aren’t doing anything to tear you away, are they?” Rose shakes her head. “So, what’s your name?”

“Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Walburga, but you can call me Wally.”

“Wally?” Euphemia asks, giggling.

Walburga smiles at the girl.

“Isn’t Wally who grandma always talks about?” Rose asks, looking up to her father. Walburga looks up also. The man looks down at her.

“I wouldn’t know. Your grandma doesn’t talk to me about stuff like that.”

“Mia, Leo.” Their heads go over to her and away from the other conversation. “Why did the scarecrow win an award?” She asks.

“Why?” Leo asks.

“Because he was outstanding in his field.” The two kids laugh at the joke that their grandmother taught her and it’s stayed in her head ever since sixth year.

“Come on, let’s go to the park.” Walburga's son says. Walburga nods and stands up, understanding that he’s trying to get his kids away from her.

“But, I wanna stay.” Leo whines.

“Let’s go see Aunt Lily and Aunt Pandora, then.”

“Eclipse and Luna?” Mia asks, looking up to her dad.

He nods. “And Harry, Lillian, and Lewis.”

Euphemia jumps up and down and pulls her fathers down the sidewalk past her. Walburga sees them walking away and then her son's head turns to her. She smiles at him, hoping he gets the message that she still cares no matter what. She then walks away, not wanting to disturb them anymore than she already has.

She closes her eyes as she leans against her front door, slides down, and sobs on the floor.

[sondheim-girly]

@outsidersweek heres my absurdly late submission for day five!! heres the masterpost for this fic

September 1967

Marcia

The Monday after Bob died, none of her friends went to school. They instead decided to go to Pershing park, trying to find some consolation there. Marcia’s head was buried in Trips' shoulder, their arms wrapping around each other for any sense of comfort they could find. Marcia eventually pulled away from him, and went over to where Cherry was sitting. She and Bev fixed the letterman jacket that was wrapped around the grieving girls’ shoulders and smoothed down her hair as Paul started talking, his eyes filled with a violent anger. 

“This can’t be real. He can’t be gone, and I don’t know how we just carry on, this could’ve happened to anyone! But here we are, can’t be undone.”

Cherry stared straight ahead and whispered to herself, “What have we done?”

Paul heard her, and turned to face Cherry, “We were only having fun.”

“You were only having fun?” She responded in disbelief,

“Just hanging out, just horsing ‘round, doing what we’ve always done.”

Cherry stood up, and started walking away from the group. “Bob was drinking, you were drinking too! And tell me what’s so fun about a fight that’s five on two? What’d you think that boy was gonna do, he lived his life scared to death after what you put him through!” Marcia stared at Cherry wide eyed, shocked at what she was saying. No one had ever talked to their friends like that.

“Bob went crazy when he saw you with that greaser kid.” Paul said as he started making his way closer to Cherry, and Marcia ran over to her friend. “You held his hand at the concession stand, we saw it all, you know just what you did!” He accused, as their friends all angrily nodded along with him. Cherry took a step back, fear filling her eyes.

“You guys were loud that night! Out looking for a fight!” Cherry took Marcia’s hand, and Marcia could see Trip shaking his head from the side of her eye. “The two of us just stayed behind, you couldn’t stand to leave those boys alone!”

“You and pony holding hands! I don’t think you understand, Bob was not a jealous man! Cherry what you did that night was wrong.” Bev stepped out for a moment to grab Marcias wrist and tug her into the crowd, away from Cherry. Marcia ripped her arm out of Bevs grasp, before attempting to move towards Cherry again. Paul was standing in front of her though, preventing Marcia from moving away.

“You should be as mad as me at this senseless tragedy! Bob didn’t need to die!!” Paul circled around away from Cherry, going to stand on the fountain as their friends gathered around him, hungry fire in their eyes. Brill came over, glaring at Marcia, before he turned away and went to Cherry. Marcia stared in horror as Brill tried to take Bob's letterman jacket off of Cherrys shoulders, but she flinched back, not letting him any closer. Brill walked away and went to join the rest of their friends who were gathered around Paul.

“The greasers crossed a line! We could sit here asking why, or we could send them back a message! Take an eye for an eye!” Paul declared, to rousing cheers from his friends.

Marcia turned to Cherry, who looked completely horrified. She held her hand out to Marcia so they could leave, and Marcia looked back at her friends. If she left now, Trip might break up with her. Bev would shun her. All of her friends would see her as a traitor. She wanted to move, but her feet stayed planted in place, her eyes trying to communicate to Cherry how sorry she was. Cherry stepped back, her face holding a betrayal and a sorrow that sent shots through Marcia’s heart. She turned around to leave, and Marcia felt violent tears rise up through her throat. When she looked over at her friends she vaguely saw Paul pointing out something, and a fresh wave of horror hit her.

It all happened too fast. Her friends ran at Two-Bit, and she could see the moment he realized what was happening. He tried to run away, but Brill and Chet grabbed his arms and slammed him down onto the concrete. She stepped forward- she had to do something- but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Chet stare her down, a warning in his eyes. Brill was holding Two-Bit down, but Trip was the one who punched him flat across the face. Marcia had never seen Trip like this. She felt sick. Two-Bit went rolling, then got up and ran at Chet, tackling the boy to the ground. Brill and Trip pulled him off and onto his back, and Marcia tried to take another few steps forward. Why couldn't she do anything?? Brill was pinning down Two-Bits arms, and Chet was holding his legs. Paul set his foot on Two-Bits chest, and issued his warning:

“Next saturday night! Pershing park! All out war is officially declared!!” And then Paul forced his entire body weight on Two-Bits chest, before stepping off with a laugh. Trip went down to pin one of Two-Bits arms. Marcias frantic gaze shifted to Bev, who had a vicious grin on her face. She was leaning down to Two-Bit, a light cigarette in hand. Marcia felt lightheaded watching as her friend, her friend, pressed a cigarette to an innocent boy's forehead. The scream that echoed through the park was something that would haunt Marcia until the day she died. Her friends finally let go of the boy, and he rolled onto his stomach. They were all whooping and laughing victoriously, and Marcia vaguely felt Brill take her arm and start to drag her into his car. She was stuffed into the backseat next to Trip. He put his arm around her waist. His knuckles were covered in blood, and he was smiling. He was proud of his hatred and his violence, and he was touching her. The next thing Marcia knew, she was yelling at Brill to stop the car and let her out.

Two-Bit

Everything hurt. His ribs. The burn on his face. The cuts on his face from those boys rings. Two-Bit tried to push down the pain as he slowly crawled to the edge of the park, he had to figure out where to go now. His first thought was the Curtis house, but with everything that those brothers were going through right now, they didn’t need anything else to worry over. Home it was, then. He was just attempting to stand when he heard something behind him. He turned around, ready to fight whoever it was that had come for round 2. But it wasn’t anything like that.

Marcia was standing there, and her face was full of pain. He wondered for a moment if she'd finally decided to join in on her friend's fun, but when he looked into her eyes, he doubted that. 

“Hey doll” he rasped, “need something?”

“I want to help.” Marcia choked out.

“That so? Then why didn’t you say so earlier.” He joked, but his words were laced with something more serious.

“I was…” she started, but she cut herself off with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

“True enough,” he admitted jokingly,

Marcia looked at him for a moment, then asked, “do you need help getting home?”

Two attempted to take a step so he could prove he was ok, “I’m fi-” he started to say, but he cut himself off when a shooting pain moved through his body. His ribs must be bruised. He wasn’t sure if he could get all the way back home and patch himself up in this state, so he looked up at Marcia and said, “I live a few blocks away. Mind giving me a hand?”

She almost smiled, but her eyes were too full of fear for it to be believable.

[skyward-floored]

Shadow is giving me some real grief in the IAU, I know how he shows up and some of what he does after that but I have no clue what to do with him after the stuff in the second movie occurs

[twirlyleafs]

“Professional girlfriend.”

Lando Norris x engineer! Reader

TW: nothing special I think

~~~~

Usually you were pretty good at separating your professional relationship with Lando from your personal one, but today it seemed to be tougher than usual. Everyone knew you and Lando were dating, you’d never tried to hide it, but you also never acted like a couple in the garage or around the other engineers. Not that you met too much during the workdays, since you worked principally on Oscars side. During debriefs or meetings you could sometimes catch Lando looking at you and he always offered a discreet wink, making you have to push down a smile as you quickly looked away again, but never more than that.

“Alright, today was obviously not our best.” Andrea spoke up from one end of the long line of tables. That was putting it lightly. Qualifying had been rough, straight out, with bad tyre temps, shitty strategies and yellow flags fucking everything up, making Oscar start seventh tomorrow and Lando down at tenth. From the second he stepped into the room you could tell he was beating himself up for it and you couldn’t help but feel the girlfriend side of you crumble a bit. Lando hadn’t met your gaze even once and as Andrea kept talking about the day you noted how his shoulders just kept slumping more and more. Taking a deep breath you pulled your gaze from your obviously upset boyfriend, trying to focus back on the data displayed on the screen in front of you. You gave your report, keeping it short and straight to the point, and then you leaned back in your chair and waited for the meeting to be over. When Andrea finally excused you, ending with some inspirational quote about tomorrow being a new day, you gathered up your things with a sigh. You saw Lando talking with some of his engineers and you decided to go and drop off your stuff before meeting up with him. Unfortunately you got caught up for a while, chatting with your colleagues, and when you were finally free you almost felt a bit stressed to get to Landos driver room, wanting to be there to comfort him before he spiraled to much.

“Lan?” You knocked softly on the door, trying the handle even though you didn’t get an answer. The door opened and it didn’t take you more than a couple of seconds to conclude that he wasn’t there. Sighing you hoisted your bag higher up on your shoulder, setting out to find your boyfriend. Everyone you met offered sympathetic smiles, they all knew you were the one who’d comfort Lando tonight, but when you asked them if they’d seen him they all shook their heads. No one knew where he was. For several minutes you walked around the unit until you almost bumped into Will.

“Hey!” The man’s gaze snapped up from the iPad he was carrying, surprised look softening into a tired smile when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re still here?”

“I can’t find Lando.” You mumbled, getting straight to the point, and Wills face fell slightly. When you raised your eyebrows he let out a soft sigh.

“I think he might still be in the conference room, he said he wanted to go over some things from today-“

“Will.” You practically groaned, shaking your head. You and Will had talked about this before, agreeing that it wasn’t good for anyone to let the drivers sit alone and nitpick things even if they wanted too. You said drivers, but it had basically never been an issue with Oscar. Lando, on the other hand, was an expert at staring himself blind on the data, ending up feeling worse the more he watched.

“I know, I know.” Will sighed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t have it. He told me he’d talked to you about it already.”

“He definitely hasn’t.” You checked your phone to be sure but you knew there wouldn’t be a text from him. Looking back at Will you offered a crooked smile. “I’ll get him. Thank you. But you need to be harder on him when it comes to this.” At that Will couldn’t help but scoff, shrugging his shoulders.

“You know he doesn’t listen to anyone. Maybe you, a bit, definitely not me.”

You said goodbye to Will, quick steps taking you back towards where you last saw Lando. When you reached the conference room you first thought Will had been wrong, not seeing Lando through the glass wall. The lights were dimmed, most screens turned off, but as you got closer you could see the light from one computer still flickering in the room. Stopping just outside the door you watched the back of your boyfriend for a few seconds, feeling your chest clench at the way he sat with his shoulders slumped, staring at the screen. With a soft sigh you pushed the door open, carefully letting it click closed behind you again as you placed your bag down on the floor. Lando didn’t hear you, or if he did he didn’t react. You watched the back of his head for a moment, gaze trailing his tense shoulders before you slowly moved closer to him. The second your hands came in contact with his back, stroking over it gently, Lando flinched slightly.

“Sorry.” You mumbled quietly, feeling him relax under your touch. As your hands kept rubbing his back, moving up over his shoulders, Landos gaze never left the screen in front of him. It wasn’t until you finally wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, leaning down to press a couple of kisses against his ear and cheek, that he actually acknowledged you. It wasn’t much, but he lifted one hand to grab onto your arm across his chest, stroking it slowly with his thumb.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet and you could tell how down he was by just that one word. Not that you had expected anything else.

“Are you ready to go back to the hotel my love?”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” His hand dropped from your arm.

“Come on baby, you know this isn’t good for you.”

“You can go, I’ll come later. Have some stuff I need to review.” You could tell by his voice that he wouldn’t listen to you, he wouldn’t leave. Despite just calling Will out for letting Lando make the decisions you couldn’t help but accept defeat, pausing for a second before slowly pulling away. A moment later you were seated in the chair next to him.

“What is it we need to review?”

“No, you don’t-“ he actually turned to look at you, pausing when he noted the expression on your face. Lando knew you well enough to realize you wouldn’t leave him alone and despite wanting to be left in his bubble of self hatred he couldn’t help but feel appreciative. As he hesitated you spoke up again.

“If you have things you want to look at, we’ll do it together. Then we leave together. I’m not letting you sit here alone and beat yourself up over today.” You tried to speak as softly as you could while still remaining stern, you wanted him to know you were on his side. Always. Lando waited for a moment but eventually nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” His hand swiped across the surface of the table, closer to you, and you were quick to wrap your fingers around his larger ones. Lando watched your hands for a second before his gaze flickered up to met yours. “Thank you.” At that you couldn’t help but smile softly, nodding as you squeezed his hand.

”Anytime.”

The two of you stayed for a while, looking through the data and discussing exactly what went wrong where. While you were always honest with Lando, agreeing that he had done some mistakes that probably cost him a couple positions, you were also quick to point out all the circumstances that he had nothing to do with. Team mistakes, flags, weather- you made sure he didn’t take the blame for more than he should. As the clocked ticked on you felt yourself slump more and more and soon enough you were leaning against your boyfriend, cheek pressed against his shoulder and eyes fixed on the screen.

“You tired?” Lando suddenly paused the video the two of you were currently looking at, glancing down at you. You blinked rapidly a few times, pulling away to force some energy back into your body.

“Me?” You shook your head. “I’m fine.” Lando stared at you, raising an eyebrow as he waited for you to tell him the truth. You wouldn’t, however you couldn’t stop the yawn escaping your lips and Lando let out a soft chuckle.

“Maybe it’s time to get out of here?”

“Yeah? You feel ready to pack up?”

“Yeah well,” Lando sighed. “You know I could sit here until tomorrow morning and pick at things…” he trailed off and you reached over to wrap your fingers around his wrist, stroking over his pulse point.

“But that wouldn’t help.”

“Probably not.” He turned to look at you again. You tilted your head, offering a sweet smile.

“If you’re ready to leave, I am too. I think it’ll be nice to get back to the hotel? Take a nice warm shower together? Order up some food, eat in bed…” you pulled your hand from his wrist to reach up and drag it through his curls, gently scratching down his neck. “I’ll give you some back rubs if you want?” Landos eyes were trained on you as you spoke and you loved the way the corners of his lips actually began to turn upwards.

“You had me at shower, honestly.” He mused quietly, earning a laugh from you.

”Alright, let’s go then big boy.” You gently patted his cheek, offering a quick wink before pulling away. Pushing your chair out from the table you stood up, stretching with a soft groan before turning around to grab your stuff from the floor. You didn’t make it more than a step before fingers wrapped around your arm and with a soft tug you were pulled back around to face your boyfriend. Before you could react his hand had found its place holding your jaw and barely a second later his lips were on yours, offering the sweetest kiss. You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, hands snaking across his abdomen to squeeze his sides through the fireproofs as you kissed him back. When he eventually pulled away he did so barely an inch, eyes flickering between yours a few times before he offered a couple more hard pecks against your lips. You hummed out a giggle, leaning back to look up at him.

“Thank you.” Lando mumbled, the softest little smile on his face. Pursing your lips you shrugged your shoulders, snaking your arms around his torso.

“I’m just doing my job. As an engineer and a girlfriend. I take them equally serious.” That had Lando actually let out a small chuckle and the smile on your face widened.

“You’re a professional at both, I’d say.” He mumbled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. “Especially the latter.”

[rumplereids]

research purposes.

tags: spencer reid x reader. tech analyst!reader. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms. fluff & crack, bcos spencer has been thru enough already. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. a/n: got inspired by aj cook implying mgg was reading 50 shades + the table read of cm where mgg’s name card was “matthew 50 shades of gray gubler” masterlist. requests are open !

The team is on the jet home from a consultation in San Francisco. Everybody’s either dozing off (Emily and Derek), eating (Rossi), or doing paperwork (Hotch, as usual). JJ is scrolling on her phone, catching up on the pictures and videos Will sent of Henry when she notices something very bizarre.

“Reid, are you reading 50 Shades of Grey?”

“Huh?” he looks up from the paragraph he was reading. Something about not making love and only fucking hard. Or whatever drivel he’s suffering for you.

“I didn’t peg you the type to be reading romance or erotica.”

“It’s for research.”

JJ quirks a brow Spencer doesn’t see. His eyes already returned to the book in his hands.

“Research? For Y/N?”

“Yep,” Spencer turns a page.

JJ continues to gape at him. She wants to press for more details, but with a shake of her head, decides she was better off not knowing the intricacies of the relationship of people she considers her siblings. No matter how baffled she is by the fact that Spencer Reid is reading 50 Shades of Grey, she doubts that she’d want to dip a toe in that rabbit hole. However, she has no qualms of bringing up this certain knowledge in the near future.

Spencer was in a rush to finish his case load for the day. It’s your day off, so he’s doing anything he can so that he can go home earlier than usual. With you out for the day, he can’t even pop into your office to bug you, talk your ear off, or have an impromptu make out session. It was so sad, really.

He’s down to his last three folders when Derek attempts to get his attention.

“Pst! Pretty boy,” Morgan whisper-yells.

“Yes?”

“How’s Y/N?”

Spencer’s a bit perplexed by the question. While it’s not unusual for Derek to worry about your well-being, he finds it a bit weird for Derek to be asking such a question at that exact moment. As far as he knows, you texted Derek 15 minutes ago about mold on the street that you insist looked like the aforementioned man. That was the last time Spencer talked to you as well.

“She’s fine. Enjoying her day off.”

There’s a big grin crawling across Derek’s face. Such a look on a man like Derek Morgan spelled trouble. He looks like he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. Spencer’s starting to get cautious.

“Anything exciting happened to you guys this weekend?” Derek asks with that shit-eating, I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

Spencer raises a brow.

“Not much. The usual,” Spencer flips a page in his file.

Morgan hums, “Ah, yes. The usual.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, perplexed. Having no idea what in the world Morgan is trying to get to.

“Late night?” Derek continues. Spencer shuts the folder in his hands.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his work. Completely ignoring the chuckles coming from Morgan.

A few days later, Spencer is making his second cup of coffee at the office kitchenette, bracing himself for another round of paperwork when he hears somebody rush into the room. He turns from the counter to see you, flushed and embarrassed?

“Hey, darling—”

“Why did Penelope ask me how it’s like to have my own Christian Grey?”

“What?” Spencer puts his mug down to turn his full attention on you.

“She barged into my office, asking me what kind of BDSM we’re into!” you devolve into a sort of whisper-yell, eyes shifting as to check if there were other people around. The two of you were alone in the area.

“Why would she ask that?”

“I don’t know? Something about you researching BDSM for me?”

Spencer shuts his eyes in realization, “JJ.”

“JJ? What’s she got to do with this?”

“A week ago, on the jet home from San Francisco. I was reading 50 Shades of Grey.”

You take a pause, “You read 50 Shades? I thought you said it was complete nonsense?”

“My opinion hasn’t changed on that. But I overheard you and Garcia giggling over the movie’s actor… I wanted to see what it was all about.” He tries to be nonchalant with what he’s saying. You completely melt into a puddle.

“Oh, Spence. That is the cutest and sweetest thing that has ever happened to me.”

Spencer blushes red at the comment. All these years together, and you never fail to make him feel so lovestruck and bashful.

He clears a throat, “The BDSM in the book is so atrocious. Have you read it? Or are you only interested in the movie?”

“Just the movie,” you say with a grin.

“Their lack of communication is astounding. It’s completely far off from the BDSM we’re into.”

There’s a gasp behind you. You turn to see Garcia at the entryway of the kitchenette, one mug in hand, the other hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh , I knew it. Ya’ll nasty.”

“Penelope—” you start to speak. She cuts you off.

“I didn’t believe JJ at first when she said Spencer was reading 50 Shades for research. I mean, really, Spencer Reid and BDSM? Never thought to correlate those two things ever in my life,” Penelope rambles, and then mid-thought, she turns to you, “So you do have your own Christian Grey! That’s so sexy— I don’t think that’s the right word considering it’s Reid—” this earns a snort from the man watching amused, standing against the counter, “Have you recreated any scenes from the books?”

“Penelope!” you say, aghast.

“I mean, if Spencer’s using 50 Shades to spice up your sexy times then—”

Spencer begins to laugh. You turn to face him, in disbelief that he can laugh at your mortification.

“Trust me, Penelope,” he says, “we don’t need 50 Shades to spice up our sex lives.”

“Spencer!” You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Penelope looks as if she’s hearing the greatest gossip scandal the world has ever produced.

“50 Shades is tame compared to us.”

“What?!” a third voice enters the conversation. Emily and JJ enter the kitchenette. Emily looked a bit confused, JJ looks just about ready to shit on you too.

You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide away from Spencer’s laughter. Emily, JJ, and Penelope start to bounce comments and choice words between the three of them. You hear words such as ‘unbelievable’, ‘kinky’, and the real kicker, ‘Dr. Reid will see you now’. You want to dig yourself into a hole.

Hands grip your hips, squeezing in silent comfort. Without removing your hands from your face, you mumble, “This is all your fault.” Spencer laughs once more, hands squeezing your hips one more time before he turns to pick up his coffee mug.

He moves to leave the kitchen, turning to you with a smug look on his face before he says, “Laters, baby.”

You refuse to acknowledge the three ladies descending on you like a pack of wolves.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna

[ashleysturn]

dirty laundry - matt sturniolo

context: after a long day of filming with matt and his brothers you’re spending the night at their house. you decide to take a shower before bed.

nsfw

<———————————————➰———————————————>

“i set a towel in the bathroom” matt says

“thanks” i grab my bag and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

i undress myself and get into the shower.

-a few mins later

knock knock “hey y/n?”

“uh yeah?”

“i’m about to throw a load of laundry in, can i grab your clothes?”

i hold the shower curtain closed fully “uh sure thanks”

the bathroom door opens and i hear matt step in “alright cool, sorry carry on”

he leaves the bathroom with my clothes and shuts the door behind him.

-

i get out of the shower and dry off with the towel matt left out for me. i rummage through my bag looking for my pajamas.

i pull out a matching bra and panties set and a soft velvet hello kitty pajama set- shorts and a tank top.

i get dressed and wrap my hair up in the towel.

i do my skincare and put lotion on my body

i walk out of the bathroom and down the corridor to the living room where everyone else is hanging out.

“how was your shower?” matt asks

“uhm good, thanks” i sit down on the couch next to him.

-

later that night after chatting and watching a funny movie, nick and chris head up to bed.

“are you getting tired y/n?”

i nod my head “a bit”

matt gets up and stretches “i might head to bed honestly”

“okay.” i pause “wait is the laundry done? i have to leave early i don’t want to forget it.”

matt pauses, his face almost turns white “uh yeah it should be. i’ll go check”

i follow him to the laundry room.

he gets on his knees and opens the dryer “hmm” he rummages through

“here” he hands me my shorts, tshirt, and bra

i smile and take them “thanks.”

“i- uh.”

matt looks up at me “what is it? did they shrink?”

i shake my head “no i’m just missing something, can i look through the rest?”

matt sighs and scratches the back of his neck “uh yeah go ahead. i’m gonna go to bed”

he walks into his room on the other side of the hallway, and i start looking though the laundry.

where the fuck are my panties?

i look through all the laundry but can’t find them. damn it. my dirty panties are here somewhere.

i retrace my steps. i look in the bathroom, behind the sink, in the hallway, under the washing machine, i dig through my bag.

nothing.

i guess i’ll i look for them the morning. i mean i wouldn’t care if they were clean but i wore them all day filming.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

-in the morning-

my alarm goes off early. i groan- i hate getting up early.

i’m assuming i’m only person awake in the house, the triplets always sleep in.

i get my belongings together and knock on matt’s door

“matt?” i knock again

i hear noises and shifting coming from behind the door.

“hey matt? you said you’d take me home” i open the door

my eyes widen and my jaw drops. i see my panties in matt’s hand wrapped around his dick

“fuck y/n! get out!” he yanks his blanket over his lap

“fuck sorry sorry!” i turn around and slam the door

what the fuck just happened

a few moments later matt walks out of his room “y/n im sorry i-“

“no i shouldn’t of just walked in” i interrupt, shaking my head

matt nods awkwardly “so uh.. you need me to take you home?”

i pause for a moment before changing the subject. “were those my..”

“yeah.” matt says ashamedly, looking at his feet.

i look down as well, i see an obvious tent in matt’s shorts- which were on backwards since he quickly threw them on.

he bites his bottom lip “i- uh”

“i mean i don’t have to go home quite yet” i shrug my shoulders

matt looks up at me with a confused look in his eyes

“i can stay for a bit.” i glance down at matt’s crotch

matt smiles mischievously, he reaches out and grabs my hands, guiding them down to his bulge. butterflies fill my stomach.

i let him guide my hands, i wrap my hand around matt’s clothed dick, he lets out a groan, shooting his head back.

“come to my room” he says huskily, stumbling to reach for the doorknob behind him.

i follow after him into the room. i sit down on the edge of his bed. he shuts and locks the door

Matt walks up to me and pushes me back on the bed which catches me by surprise.

he spreads my legs apart by my knees and crawls on top of me. i look up at him with needy eyes.

he pushes his hair out of his face and lifts his shirt off before pulling me closer to him by my hips

“fuck are you sure?” matt and looks down at me.

i nod my head “mhm.”

i lift off the bed a bit and slide off my shorts

i notice matt glancing down and biting his bottom lip

he places his hand softly on my jaw and lifts up my face to look him in the eyes. he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

i let out a soft moan against his lips and wrap my arms around him.

matt reaches down and places his fingers on my clit through my panties, the sudden contact sending a shiver through my body. fuck.

“this okay pretty girl?” he speaks as he starts tracing shapes over my clit

my breath hitches “yeah.. yes” i look back to him with needy eyes.

matt traces the elastic waistband of my panties and slowly slides his hand under them

“mmm- you’re so wet for me” matt groans.

“please matt” i whine

“tell me what you want y/n” he teases my entrance with his fingers

“matt” i lift up the lower half of my body for more contact

“say it” he starts to slowly push a finger into me

“oh fuck. more.. please” i beg

matt pushes a second finger in and starts pumping in and out of me. he curls his fingertips up to hit my g-spot. each bit of contact sending shockwaves through my body.

“feels so fucking good” i spit out

matt grins as he continues to finger me. my stomach ties up in a knot and my walls pulse around his fingers.

i see matt’s eyes darken. he can definitely feel that i’m close. his hair is sticking to his forehead and his teeth are sunken into his bottom lip

i grip onto his back, my nails leaving marks

“finish on my fingers y/n” he quickens the pace, hitting my g-spot with every pump

i practically lift off the bed, my legs shaking sporadically. that pressure in my stomach releases and i clench around matt’s fingers. i let out a shriek and matt’s spare hand goes to cover my mouth

“good girl” he slowly pulls out his fingers and sucks my juices off of them. “you taste so good”

i pant and look up at him. “you can take more, yeah?”

i nod my head. matt slides down his shorts and boxers in one motion.

he strokes himself a few times before lining up his tip to me.

he’s so big.

“ready pretty girl?”

i nod my head again. i have no words.

matt grins and slowly pushes into me

“can you spread your legs more for me?” he gently pushes my legs apart more.

he slowly pumps in and out of me with only half of his length stretching me out.

“you’re so big” i moan. matt just shakes his head

“you okay?” he brushes my hair out of my face

“mhm” i nod my head.

i wince as matt bottoms out, he lets out a whimper.

“so tight” he starts to thrust into me faster. he leans down to place kisses on my neck.

matt reaches under my shirt and up to my chest. he runs his fingertips over my nipples, i let out a moan

“fuck your noises are so pretty” matt thrusts faster into me “i’m gonna cum y/n”

my stomach knots up again and my walls tighten around matt’s dick

he lets out a whimper and i feel warmth filling me up

“fuck sorry” he slowly pulls out and a string of white gushes out of me. he uses his discarded shirt to clean me off. the fabric touching me when i’m so sensitive makes me shiver

i smile. “thanks matt.”

matt crashes down next to me and opens his arms for me to lay on his chest.

“you should leave your dirty laundry here more often he teases”

i giggle, my head laid on his chest.

“i’m keeping those panties by the way” he laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

an: i loveddd writing this. it’s been in my drafts for like a week but i just finished it hehe hope u enjoy 💋

((also not fully proofread sorry. also my next fic will be chris!))

[amourane]

kick in the right direction

pairing: football player!seungcheol x mascot!reader

genre: fluff, university au

w/c: 0.9k

summary: seungcheol is the star football player in your university but he becomes a bumbling mess in front of you.

warnings: none, you do get hit by a ball though

a/n: i have decided to start writing fics for seventeen too because i just love them way way too much <3 also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3

Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say. He usually has an explanation for his actions. There doesn’t seem to be anything coming to his mind when he sees you on the ground. The problem with being the star player on the football team was the amount of trust his coach put on him. As well as the thought that they needed to win every game, that wasn’t a problem though because Choi Seungcheol was a beast when he was in game mode. His aim was the best on the whole team, he’d never missed a goal. 

Obviously today was an off day.

“You’re staring, Cheol.” Jeonghan gives him a hearty slap on the back. “You really like our school mascot don’t you?” All Seungcheol can do is nod, watching as Seungkwan helps you up.

He really wants to go over and say sorry for nearly knocking you out with his kick but he can’t. Not because he doesn’t want to but because he simply can’t. It’s stupid really. Choi Seungcheol, star player of the football team, can’t say two words when he’s faced with you. He’s tried speaking to you. Once after a game, not the best choice because he’d become so nervous he spilt his water bottle all over you. Even after you told him it was fine he was still stuttering his words. Another time he’d managed to catch you walking down the hallway. The moment you smiled and said ‘hi’ his mind blanked. No words could come out of his mouth and he stood there gaping like a goldfish.

Talking to girls was easy for Seungcheol. He could give them a smile and they’d be fawning all over him. You were different. There isn’t one time he’s had a full conversation with you with nothing embarrassing happening. He’d stumble over his words or nothing would come out of his mouth. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the fact you would grin every time he came up to you and he didn’t like giving up.

“Of course I like her!” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “I just don't know what to do?”

“You could ask her out.”

“I can’t!” 

His friend arches an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean you can't ask her out? Like you're scared, or you don't know how to, because those two are completely different things." Jeonghan's tone is gentle but probing, urging Seungcheol to confront the root of his hesitation.

“That’s not it. I’ve got everything planned out. I know what to say and I know where I want to bring her to. There’s a whole plan in my notebook, it’s coloured in and everything!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Whenever I go up to her to ask her out my throat closes and I can’t find the right words. Or when I try to even write my confession, my hand freezes and no letters can be written. It’s even worse because I manage to make a fool of myself whenever I’m in front of her!” He kicks the football away.

Jeonghan sighs, staring at Seungcheol as he aimed a perfect kick to the goal. The boy was completely enamoured by you. Practically the whole school knew about his crush on you. Everyone was just waiting for the day the both of you would come in hand in hand. 

//

“Y/n, oh my god! Are you okay?” Seungkwan was shaking you by your shoulders. You rub your head. That football was really hard. Who knew air could hurt you? “How many fingers am I holding up?” He waves three fingers around and your eyes struggle to adjust to his trembling hand.

“Calm down. I just got hit in the head, I don’t have a concussion or anything.” You just know there’s going to be a huge bump on your forehead tomorrow. “It’s partly Stuart’s fault.” You pat the dragon costume you had on. The fuzzy green body was heavy and the long swishy tail at the back was quite annoying to lug around.

"Why are you blaming our mascot? Stuart did nothing wrong," Seungkwan interjects, shooting a pointed glare at Seungcheol. "Star player my ass." He mutters under his breath, clearly unimpressed.

“Hey, don’t blame him. I’m sure it was an accident.” You give Seungcheol a little smile and an ‘okay’ sign to tell him everything was fine. 

“I can’t believe you like that dumbass, he can’t string two sentences together when he’s in front of you.” Seungkwan helps you up, handing you Stuart’s head. You dust off the dirt on your costume. 

What was there not to like about Choi Seungcheol? He was popular, athletic, smart and talented in everything. Not to mention he was the literal definition of eye candy. There hadn’t been many occasions where you two had met. He’d always stutter helplessly or his cheeks would resemble a fire truck, which was very endearing. It was quite funny seeing him stumble over his words whenever he tried to ask you out.

“Why don’t you just ask him out? You already know he likes you, not that he makes it the most obvious thing in the world.” 

“But isn't it just the cutest thing when he tries to ask me out but he’s a stuttering blushing mess?” You giggle when you catch sight of the pout Seungcheol has on his face. “I hope he asks me out soon though, I can’t wait to finally go on a date with him.” 

The smile you shoot at Seungcheol has him tripping over his feet, face planting into the ground. Suppressing your laughter behind your hand, you watch as he hurriedly picks himself up, only to see his teammates rolling on the floor with amusement.

“How long are you even willing to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

[artdcnaldson]

whoa imagine patrick and art teaching how you how to blow them next? and then they like take turns with you giving hands-on demonstrations of how they think you’d like to be touched and fucked and taken care of? it’s not exactly a competition but they both want to do better and make you feel better than the other so it kind of is

Yeah 😌🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Patrick x Reader x Art throuple dynamics, blowjob lessons <3, guys being pervy little manipulating snakes (affectionately)

A/N: I’m obsessed. Everyone say hiiii sex lessons au. Unedited sozz

You get week of you jerking one or both of them off whenever you’re alone together until Patrick decides to test the waters.

“You can put your mouth on it,” he says, when you’ve taken him into your grasp, nice and slow while you kiss him the intense, hungry way he’d taught you.

Your eyes widen slightly, and he swears he can hear your pulse thrumming.

“Patrick,” Art says, a warning. He’s on the other end of the bed, trying his best to study for a midterm while his friend is getting jerked off three feet away. He’d sit on the floor… but he’s ready to hop off the bench the second you or Patrick invite him to play.

Patrick rolls his eyes in annoyance. Art was so fucking dense sometimes. He knew Art wanted it just as bad, probably more because he was so goddamn repressed. He knew Art always wanted the same things he wanted, no matter how depraved, or how embarrassed he was to admit it. “What? I think it’s about time she learns to suck cock.”

“Jesus Christ, Pat,” you say with a nervous laugh. His lips quirk slightly. He fucking loves how embarrassed you can get, how one dirty word makes you hide your face like a shy little virgin. You were shy, but he was working on that last part.

He grins, runs a thumb along your bottom lip. It’s slick with spit, swollen from kissing him. God, is it such a crime that he wants those lips wrapped around his dick? “C’mon, you’ll like it,” he says, brushing his lips along your jaw, right below your ear. “You like jerking us off, right? It’s even better.”

You nod, leaning back to meet his gaze. “Will you show me?”

Patrick glances over at Art, who has pushed his textbook and notes out of the way entirely. “You heard her, Art, come show her.”

“Jesus, you can ask,” Art says, face scrunched in annoyance. You know there’s know malice, though— he wants it just as bad. You shift off of Patrick’s lap and sit beside him, where you get the perfect view of Art between his thighs. He tugs the brunet’s boxers down his thighs, tosses them absently across the room.

“Pay attention, honey,” Patrick tells you. He runs a hand through shaggy blond curls, making sure you watch as Art places wet kisses to his tip. Patrick moans, impatient, but relishing in the way your mouth falls open slightly, how your eyes widen.

Art opens his mouth wider and slowly eases Patrick’s cock inside. It’s wet, messy. Drool spills from the sides of his mouth, down the length of Patrick’s cock. It gathers at his base, drips down his balls. You watch Art’s cheeks hollow as he takes him deeper, how his eyes fill with water.

Patrick’s fingers press against your lips, pointer and middle, seeking entrance. You open your mouth and let him push his fingers in— salty like skin and sweat. It isn’t until they’re in your mouth that you realized how long they are, as they slip towards the back of your tongue and your mouth fills with spit and you gag. Patrick withdraws his fingers, stringy with spit, and grins.

“Try again for me— try to take ‘em deeper.”

Patrick’s riding high— your lips wrapped around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of your mouth, Art sucking his dick like a champ— he can’t ask for much more.

“Are you paying attention to Art?” You gag slightly as his fingers nudge the back of your throat, eyes stinging with tears. You shake your head and redirect your attention. “Look how deep he can take me. You’ll be able to do that soon, won’t you?”

To demonstrate his point, he pushes Art down by the back of his head, makes Art gag and moan around the intrusion. “Use your tongue, baby.” Neither of you knows who he’s talking to, so you both follow the order.

He keeps both of you there for god knows how long— laving him with attention. Art looks right at home, lashes splayed against his cheeks, head bobbing as he works Patrick’s dick. And you, eyes wide and starry with the need to impress him, to take advantage of all he could possibly teach you. I mean, fuck, he could tell you to jump and you’d ask how high.

He lets his best friend bring him to the edge, feels so deliciously close that he loses himself in it.

“Fuck, Art—“ Patrick cries out, tangling his fist into the blond’s hair for purchase. “Your fuckin’ mouth is something else. C’mon, take me down your throat. That’s it—“

Patrick comes with a groan, spilling down Art’s throat. Art, to his credit, swallows down everything Patrick gives him before pulling back, lips swollen and slick.

Patrick slips his fingers from your mouth— strings of spit connecting the two. He wipes his fingers on your cheek, pats it twice before dropping his hand.

“Think you can handle Art?” He asks with a grin. “He’s smaller than me, it’ll be easier for your first time, huh?”

Art slaps his arm, hard enough to leave a mark. “By fucking half an inch you asshole.”

Patrick rolls his eyes with a knowing smile, but doesn’t dig. “Alright then, Donaldson, whip it out. Her mouth’s fucking watering for it over here.”

Art scowls, but the thought of you sucking his dick is enough to smooth over his mildly bruised ego. He makes quick work of shucking off his clothes and leans against the headboard beside Patrick.

God, someone should take a picture. You’re settled between his legs, on your knees so your ass is up when you bring your mouth to Art’s cock. Your tongue peeks between your lips and you give a few testing kitten licks to his tip.

He moans, soft and pretty. You feel hands in your hair, petting you almost. You blink lazily, peering up to look at Art as you place slow open mouthed kisses to his shaft.

When you take him into your mouth, you feel his grip on your hair tighten, just enough to make you gasp. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue, salty with precum.

Even going slow, you can’t manage to fit much of him in your mouth. You gag with each attempt to take him deeper, eyes watering before you pull off and gasp for air. They watch your valiant efforts, getting off on the fucking filthy sounds of you gagging on Art and the sight of spit spilling down his cock.

“Here—“ Art says, taking one of your hands to wrap around his base. “Just follow your mouth with that. You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

“First fucking time he’s ever had to say that,” Patrick says with a grin. Art punches his shoulder hard enough that the brunet yelps.

With your hand attending to what doesn’t fit in your mouth, it’s easier. Art’s so easy to get worked up— so easy to bring to the edge. Patrick’s mouthing at his throat, and Art tilts his head to grant him more access. He always complains after about the marks— Art always bruises easy, like a fucking peach. 

“Just like that,” Art praises. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing a great job, but he looks like he’s having a real fucking nice time. “Keep going, baby. Doing so good.”

“We’re teaching her, so teach her,” Patrick says after he grows bored of the slow, sweet head you’re giving the blond. Patrick’s hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you further down until your throat constricts instinctively and your eyes widen in surprise.

“I know you can take more. Just need some exposure therapy. Breathe through your nose— that’s it— good girl.” You will yourself to relax, to center yourself. He didn’t push you far, just enough that Art is brushing against the back of your tongue.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you swallow around the intrusion, making Art practically whine. “F-fuck Patrick— let her up—“ he groans. It’s then that Patrick moves his hand, letting you pull up and get a large gulp of air. Your face feels hot, your jaw aches slightly.

Art brushes your hair from your face tenderly. “Keep your mouth open like that, okay?” You nod, let him rest the head of his cock on the center of your tongue. He replaces your hand with his own, jerking himself off quickly, methodically.

You nearly flinch as the first rope of cum hits your tongue— warm, salty, thick. You’re caught off guard by the sheer volume of it— you’d felt it coat your hand, but it’s different when it’s spilling directly onto your tongue. He’s panting as he finishes, and you’re left sitting with a mouthful of cum. You swallow it like bitter medicine, like you’d seen girls do in porn.

“How was it?” You ask Art.

“Good for a first try,” he says. “We’ll let you practice, get you ready for when you get boyfriend.”

A/N: Tashi incoming <3 imagine her reaction when she finds out these boys haven’t been making you cum 😵‍💫

[mioons]

“how could my day be bad when i’m with you.”

pairing. enhypen ot7 x fem. reader (hcs)

genre. fluff, est. relationship wc. 928 warnings. skinship, mentions of wedding, petnames, swearing

— enhypen as cute things that couples do. extra. guys idk why this took me sooo long to write like the thinking put into this is insane.

LEE HEESEUNG — sharing wired earpieces

it could be on the way to school. or on the way to that cafe you wanted to go to since forever. lee heeseung thinks he wants to somehow be connected to you at all times, even when you two were on the train or the bus; not just physically but emotionally too.

this is why he feels headphones aren’t his thing; because he can’t share it with you.

he’d put on his favourite album on repeat. he loves sharing his favourite things with his favourite person. his favourite pretty girl.

holding out one side of the earpiece, he’d gesture you to take it, “put it on,” he’d request.

you two sat on the train in silence but your hearts were connected, beating in tandem.

SIM JAEYUN — wearing his hoodie

he’d want you to have a piece of him everytime you two were not together. needed you to wear something that said that you were his. you were his beloved girlfriend whom he cherished so much.

honestly even if you weren’t apart he’d still make you wear his hoodie, claiming that it looked better on you than him. he likes the fact that the sleeves cover your entire arm, leaving only the tips on your fingernails to be seen; the way it almost reaches your knees—fucking adorable he thinks.

“by the way here’s your hoodie, i think i forgot to return it the other day,” you’d say as you passed him his hoodie.

he purposely didn’t ask for it back because he wanted you to have it. forever.

“no no darling, you keep it m’kay? everytime we have movie nights on fridays make sure to wear it.”

PARK JONGSEONG — helping you with your shoes + carrying you

tying your shoelaces? no no don’t worry, he’ll help you. slipping on heels your for you? he’d be down on his knees to help you with it. putting on socks? “of course my love, which pair of socks?”

don’t even move an inch, he’ll take care of you.

“you too tired to walk pretty?” he’d ask as he caressed the small of your back with his thumb, rubbing circles on it.

you’d shake your head, “no it’s okay seongie, i got it.”

you actually didn’t ‘got it’. every few minutes while you two were walking along the bustling street, you’d take a short pause to adjust your shoe.

“baby, cmon don’t be stubborn, let me help you,” he’d sigh and wrap his arms around your hip, lifting you off the ground, gaining a small yelp sound from you. “seongie you don’t need to carry me!”

“i know princess; i just want to carry you.”

PARK SUNGHOON — breakfast, be in bed or in public

the moment sunghoon found out you don’t eat breakfast he got worried but he didn’t say anything.

“yn, can we go out for breakfast tomorrow?” he’d ask while you two were calling on the phone.

“mm, sure, why not? tomorrow 9am?” you asked.

“mhm.”

he’d make sure you were well fed, made sure you had enough energy to sustain throughout the day. he wouldn’t want to see his pretty girl collapsing in school or when she’s out.

on days where you two stayed over at each others house, he’d wake up early just to cook something for you; to surprise you with breakfast in bed.

“good morning darling, eat up m’kay?”

KIM SUNOO — matching items

it started when you saw a couple bracelet on instagram and you decided to buy it for sunoo and yourself.

“what’s this for?” he’d ask as you helped you put on the bracelet.

“it’s matching bracelets, you don’t want it?” you pouted and looked up at him through your lashes

he sighed and chuckled, “no no baby, i just didn’t know you liked matching things.”

from then on he’d buy you guys anything matching. matching shirts? don’t worry he’d customise two just for the both of you. matching phone charms? he’d go and find one online for the both of you.

one day he’d get matching wedding rings too.

YANG JUNGWON — playing with your hair

if he’s not clinging onto your hand, he’s playing with your hair.

he likes the way your hair is so so smooth and he can just thread his fingers through it, how it smells like vanilla and lavender.

on some days he’d ask you, “hey darling, could i braid your hair please?”

of course you’d say yes. you loved the feeling of his fingers gently massaging your scalp as he styled your hair. even if your hair was short or long, he’d still play with it.

he’d pick flowers for you just to insert them into your hair. yang jungwon thinks you look like a bride like that.

NISHIMURA RIKI — love letters

he loves writing love letters to you. he’d spend hours and hours drafting and writing them. just for you.

when he’s not around to pass it to you, sometimes he’d send it to you via text to make sure you still get your daily love letters; life is too short for him not to send paragraphs professing his love for you.

his friends would ask him why he wouldn’t just want to tell you straight up and chose to write letters. to be honest he’s shy and too scared to say everything to you upfront, he’d rather just write for you so you could keep it forever with the other stacks of love letters he wrote you.

don’t worry, he’s already wrote his wedding vows.

luvlyhee 2024 :: taglist open ,, send an ask to be added

tl: @en-gelic @dioll @luv-sims @minjubie

[disneyprincemuke]

best dress * fem!driver

when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver

warnings: none

notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> the aftermath

she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.

she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.

“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”

she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.

“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”

lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”

“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”

“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”

“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”

“exploring the city!”

“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. “come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”

“you’re exploring the city in heels?”

she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”

“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”

“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”

lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”

“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”

“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”

“oh, i s-“

“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”

“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.

“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“

“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”

“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.

“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”

max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”

oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?

“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”

“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”

though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”

but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”

“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”

“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”

“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”

lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.

lando slouches. “why not?”

“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”

george tilts his head. “what?”

oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”

“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”

“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.

after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.

“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”

“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.

the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.

george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”

“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”

once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.

“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”

“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”

george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”

oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”

“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”

they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.

they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”

“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”

“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”

max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.

“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.

to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”

george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”

“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”

“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”

“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”

“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.

“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”

“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”

“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”

the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”

“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”

max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”

“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”

oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”

max shrugs. “i guess.”

sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”

“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”

logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”

“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”

she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”

max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”

“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”

“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”

sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”

“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”

“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”

“i don’t believe you!”

“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.

max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”

“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”

“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”

oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”

“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”

“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”

“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”

she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”

sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”

“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”

her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”

oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”

“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.

“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife

[avocado-writing]

Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻

The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.

You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 

It is not one of your boys. 

“Hey, baby.”

He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 

“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”

His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 

“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 

“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 

The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”

“I told you I’m not interested!”

He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 

“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”

“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 

The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.

“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”

He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 

“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 

“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 

“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”

“One sec.”

Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.

“You wanna apologise?”

The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.

“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”

They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 

“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 

“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”

“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”

“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”

“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 

Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both. 

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try. 

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak. 

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. 

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail. 

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in. 

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance. 

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips. 

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him. 

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.” 

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around. 

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now. 

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other. 

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle. 

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline. 

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a barbaric fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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[buckyalpine]

18+ The needy subby Bucky choke hold is back.

Imagine being at a lowkey party where he's a little tipsy from the alcohol and it turns him into such a subby, shy, needy baby.

"It’s so hard mommy" Bucky whined into your neck, gripping onto your hips, keeping you firmly seated on his lap, his erection painfully hard.

"What’s so hard baby" you cooed teasing him on purpose, smirking at the way his fingers dug into your skin.

"Mommy" your poor shy baby continued to hide, refusing to meet your eyes until you cup his cheek and give him a pointed look.

"Help me" He pouts and you can’t resist that sweet face, taking his hand and leading him back to your room. The whistles that follow as you both leave make him blush more.

"You gonna show mommy what's so hard" You cock an eyebrow after locking the door behind you while Bucky fidgeted with his fingers standing in the middle of your room.

It's not like you haven't seen Bucky naked before but he's still getting used to it. He feels so safe and loved around you but that doesn’t meant he still doesn’t feel shy when he takes his clothes off and lets you shamelessly admire every single part of him. Even the most intimate places.

“It’s okay baby, you can show mommy” You giggle at the way he fumbles with his belt buckle, helping him slip it off, your fingers brushing over his cock throbbing against his pants. He unzips and pulls his pants and briefs down just enough so to free his cock, a whimper slipping past his lips when you tap his pink cockhead, licking his arousal off your finger. Of course he didn’t tell you want he wants, waiting for you to do something, anything.

"What if I suck it a little, will that make it feel better?" You decide to toy with him a little, slipping off your dress and underwear, sinking down to your knees. Bucky is sure the sight is enough to make him cum untouched, precum beading from the top.

"S-suck it mommy" He nods with a whimper when you take just the head into your mouth, gently nursing from, your tongue swirling around in gentle circles making him sob. “Oh-f-fuck-mmph-please-don’t stop-”

“But I sucked it a little for you baby” you pull off, leaving his harder than ever cock bobbing between his legs, “isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Suck it a lot, all of it, please”

“Here?” You lick up his shaft, avoiding him where he needs you most, making him more desperate. He tosses off the rest of his clothes, shaking his head with glassy eyes, especially when you suck on one of his balls instead. “Or here?”

“No mommy, suck-suck my-” he nearly babbles, his swollen head aching with need, he wants you to lap and suck the prettiest, most sensitive, pinkest part off him.

“Here mommy!” He nearly cries, pushing his silky tip between your lips, tears slipping down his face when he breeches your throat. You moan, grabbing his thighs and letting him rut into your mouth like a greedy puppy, balls hitting your chin while he gently ups your face. His lip is caught between his teeth watching his length fill your mouth.

Just imagine soft and desperate he’s going to be if you pull off him and push him to bed. He’s so deep in subby space all he can do is whine with grabby hands, humping against you when you straddle him. His cock is slotted between your folds making a mess all over your clit.

“So messy baby” you take his thumb and bring it to your clit letting him feel how wet you are combined with his arousal.

“S’wet mommy” he continues to chase the feeling of you, rolling his hips up. You help him put it in, sinking down on his cock and Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to do anything, immediately planting his feet against the mattress and fucking up into your soaked cunt. “MMPH- feels so good!”

I want him so needy, he wraps his arms around your body and rolls over so he’s on top, bringing his knee up to fuck you as deep as he could go. He’s hitting that spot with sloppy thrusts, your moans and cries making his cock throb. He wants to go on forever, just stay like this in your arms with his hard cock pumping you full, you feel to good for him to hold it, he wishes he could keep going-

“M’cummingggg” is all the warning he’s able to give you, giving into the pleasure that makes his balls so heavy and full, so much cum shooting from his tip, trembling and shivering in its each pulse of his dick. “There’s so much, hng mommy help”

“Let it out baby boy” you rub your hand up and down his spine and Bucky could cry. In fact he does. How did he get so so lucky with such a pretty angel who made him feel so good and also held and soothed him through his most vulnerable moments. He stays there until he’s all nice and empty, snuggled into you until he realizes he needs to take care of you.

“Bucky, what are you-

“Want to make you cum” he pouts, pulling out and making his way down between your legs. He doesn’t give a fuck that his cum he dripping out of your cunt, smearing all over his chin, the taste of him mixed with you making him hard again. Licking up his cum from your pussy makes him feral, no other man getting to have you like this, only him. Only his cum was allowed to bust and claim you all over, creamy slick covering your clit. You nearly scream when he latches onto your nub, alternating between soft kitten licks and suckling.

By the end of the night he’s only satisfied after pulling 2 orgasms out of you, now sleeping with your nipple between his lips.

Wow wtf was that.