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sobbingscripter · 18 days ago

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𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 3005🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Do… do you think we’re friends in every universe?”

Mark’s voice is quiet, back pressed against freshly mowed grass, eyes focused on the starry sky above you. It stretches endlessly, an abyss dotted with the faintest glows, celestial pools that reflect off your pupils and you hum. Chewing on your bottom lip.

“I think so.”

You shift on the grass, your shoulder bumping against his and your head bumps lightly against his, and Mark bites back a grin, but you can see the dimples that threaten to appear in his cheeks. “Yeah?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” You swallow. “It doesn’t seem right that I’d only know you in one life.”

Mark’s fingers lace with yours, his pudgy digit tracing over the pretty ring that adorns your thumb.

“I think we always find each other. Even if, like, I don’t know, different worlds. Or timelines. Or species.”

His eyes remain trained on the black above him, wind rustling at the cypress branches, blades of grass tickling the back of his neck, the backs of his legs and he glances at you, pupils dilated so much that you’d think he was on something.

Lashes fluttering shut, the ball of your nose brushing against his and your lips brushing over his. In a sweet, chaste promise that managed to toe the line between friendship and something neither of you could comprehend.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“You fought and won, against Godzilla. Like, literally.” You deadpan. “But an off-brand kraken with toenails and spikes, rocks your shit?”

Your scoff breaks Mark from his reverie, his eyes moving to where you’re perched on the closed lid of your toilet, arms crossing over your chest and obscuring nearly half the image of your oversized sleeping tee.

Mark’s never seen that fucking T-shirt leave your wardrobe.

Ratty, frayed at the neckline. A faded print of some presidential candidate from how many years ago. He knows you couldn’t even vote then.

“I didn’t get my shit rocked.” Mark speaks, clearing his throat to get rid of the lump because this is the closest he’s been to his best friend in a while. No arguing, no tension. Just you taking care of him, like you always have.

“Fine, you got your shit jostled.” You correct yourself and he snorts, the cut on his bottom lip doing nothing to prevent that dorkish grin from spreading across his face.

“I won, didn’t I?” He brags.

“Barely. Vincible.”

He rolls his eyes at your chide, before resting back against the edge of the tub, soaking his aching muscles in the concoction of Epsom salts and hot water, bubbles frothing at the surface because Mark refuses a bath where he doesn’t get to use your bubble bath.

The scent clings to his skin, and he lets out a breath, taking in that sweet smell before peeking at you from beneath his lashes.

“Put those ladyfingers to work.”

He hums, eyes fluttering shut and he cocks an even wider grin at the sound of you shuffling, wetting your hands before squeezing a generous glob of shampoo into your palm, griping all the way as you rub our palms, waiting patiently until it emulsifies.

Snowy cream is strewn from between your hands before you massage it onto Mark’s scalp, scratching and watching the way his eyes roll back in his head.

His hand moves to grip your thigh, brows scrunching into a pleased frown at the way your nails rake against his skin, scratching at the nape of his neck and your palms work a thick lather into his hair.

“Your hair’s not even dirty.” You huff. And Mark groans in a ploy to shut you up and it works. But not because he’s interrupting you.

But because you’re watching the way suds slide down the side of his neck, settling in the crevice of the muscle and your watching his broad chest heaves, pink lips parting to let out relaxed sighs and you’re questioning everything you’ve ever known.

You know you have a thing for Mark, that’s for sure. You’ve basically lived on the manifestation side of TikTok in an attempt to get him to dream of you, but you never followed up on if he ever did. You’d do little rituals to make him think of you, forcefully but still.

But never once, did you consider the possibility that Mark’s beginning to qualify as ‘fine shyt’.

“Scratch at the crown.” Mark groans quietly, eyes shut to keep out the shampoo and you comply with a silent ‘uh-huh’, scratching at the crown of his head. Inky strands are messy and soapy, and you drag your nails along his scalp one last time, before you’re reaching for the showerhead, and covering Mark’s eyes with one hand, while the other rinses away the suds.

And he sighs, thumb pressing circles into your thigh and you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the squeak that threatens to spill.

And Mark peers up at you, a perfect brow raising and he hums.

“What’s wrong?”

You know damn well.

“Nothing.” You answer, still chewing on your bottom lip as you rinse his hair. “Just hungry.”

That’s not exactly a lie either.

You’re not too hungry. Well, not hungry enough to be considered hungry but you can eat.

“Big back.” Mark whispers under his breath.

“I’ll drown you.” Your eyes narrow. “Don’t test me.”

You try not to focus on how the scalding waters make his skin flush so prettily, how the light of the bathroom dances on his features and makes the flecks in his iris look golden. And you try not to notice that the smell of him, him and him alone, is mixing with steam and your body wash, and your shampoo.

And you think that having sex with Mark might smell like this.

Heady, sweaty and refreshing. Sweet and musky. Calloused hands pressing your thighs apart, soft lips pressing at your erratic pulse and the way he’d breathe you in like you’re his next lungful of life. The thought makes your skin prickle and you feel an empty ache between your thighs that you’ve never quite felt before.

Your mind drifts to the way his lips would ghost over your ears, the way his biceps would shift to pull you closer, the way a veiny hand would wrap around the base of his swollen, leaky cock, lining him up at your messy cunt before—

“Your heartbeat’s getting fast.” Mark comments. “What’s that about?”

“I’m thinking about holding your head underwater.”

And a smile stretches across your lips.

Under your waters.

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“Why do you have so many T-shirts from elections?” Mark questions, rifling through you drawers before settling on one. He pulls it overhead, and you watch the way the muscles of his back flex beneath his skin, and you pull the covers up, over your chest.

And Mark look down at his T-shirt.

“They’re not even all from the same country.” He snorts, muscular legs carrying him over to your bedside before he creeps beneath your blankets, tugging them up to his neck and he presses his face against your shoulder.

Inhaling the scent of your skin, the scent of the sheets he hasn’t been wrapped up in for far too long and he throws an arm over your waist, tugging you into his orbit before pulling you into his chest.

The worn fabric does nothing to tamper with the furnace that Mark’s become, claiming your title as the warm one, and you feel the way he melts against you. Legs entangling with yours, and his nose brushes against the nape of your neck. Calloused fingertips slip beneath the edge of your shirt, tracing along where the ribbed elastic waistband of your shorts cuts into the plush of your hips. Fingers draw patterns on the soft pudge and you turn into a puddle when his lips brush against your pulse.

He's so gentle. Drawing little flowers around your navel, hearts on your lower belly and his fingertips trace along your ribs.

You don’t know how long you’re laying in his arms.

Feeling warm breath fan across the curve of your neck, feeling even warmer fingertips clutch at you like you’re his whole world and for the first time, in a long time, it doesn’t feel like you’re second choice. Not to Eve, not to Amber, not to anyone or anything.

The world quiets down until it’s just you and him. Mingling breaths in the comfort of your bedroom, the soft thud of raindrops hitting the ground, slightly louder when they patter against your windows. And you shift in his grasp, turning to face him instead.

Mark’s heart stutters when your arms wrap around his midsection, your legs following and wrapping around his thighs, your face pressing into the slope of his neck. The ball of your nose is cold, icy almost, he feels the way your lashes flutter as you shut your eyes, and he can hear the steady thrum of your heartbeat.

His hold tightens, chin resting on the crown of your head, feeling the way strands tickle at his face, and Mark inhales. Deep enough until you’re settling in his lungs, fingers clutching at your T-shirt and he curls his body around yours.

And there’s a silence that settles in the room, only interrupted when Mark’s voice breaks it, quiet and so, so very boyish.

“So, are we gonna talk about you peeking through my window, yet?” He whispers teasingly, his hand shifting to the back of your neck where he traces patterns on your nape, the action ticklish enough for you to act on impulse. Tucking your neck, and you peer up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Are we gonna talk about the panties you stole yet?” You bite back, a brow raising and you watch Mark’s lips purse.

“No, we are not.” And he ushers your face back to his neck, his cheeks burning a bright red when e feels your hushed giggles against the sensitive flesh and he breathes out. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m a gaping asshole.” You correct. “Respect my truth.”

And Mark laugh. Loudly, and you hear that breathy little hitch in his voice, peeking up at him to watch the corners of his eyes crinkle, to watch the way pink lips part and reveal pearly teeth and you linger on his canines. Before moving over to his dimples, to the rosy apples of his cheeks and finally, you drink him in as a whole.

Damp raven strands that fall over his forehead in perfect strands, a sharp jaw and you feel the way his muscles flex as he readjusts his grip on you.

“My bad.” Mark huffs out a snort. “My bad for mischaracterizing you. How can I fix it?”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“This isn’t what I meant.” Mark grumbles, muscles flexing with each movement as he continues to fold, and bend different articles of clothing, brows scrunched into a furrow as he organizes your closet.

“Yeah, but it’s what I want.” You respond with a snort. “An besides, you should be comfortable handling my clothing. You know, since you’re like, half-Korean.”

Mark stares at you, watching the way you take another bite of your cookie. His expression is blank, lips falling open in shock at the easiness of what you just said.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Mark’s brows bunch and you can tell he’s not offended, so much as confused and trying not to laugh.

“You know,” You shrug, “Koreans tend to open dry cleaners.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s like… Family Guy, they go to a Korean dry cleaner. In American Dad, when Stan opens a dry cleaners with a bunch of strippers, he complains about the Koreans. It’s a statistic.”

Mark’s lips twitch and he curls them inward, trying to stifle the laugh.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You folded more than half of my closet in like, 15 minutes. It’s in your DNA. The D stands for—” “If you say dry cleaning, I’m gonna hit you in the mouth.”

And your lips purse.

And you take a slow, and loud bite of your cookie. And he shuts his eyes, letting out an even breath.

“I hate you so much.”

Mark goes back to folding before he lifts one of the shirts. And he gasps. “You dick, you never gave this back.”

“You kinda left me on a building, so you know.” Your lips purse and Mark winces at the memory. Before looking almost sheepishly ashamed, brows scrunching and his lips tug downwards into a frown.

“I’m sorry about that.” Mark murmurs.

“It’s chill, I got a happy meal out of it.”

He tosses the Seance Dog T-shirt at you. Pretty brown eyes focused on the way you catch the fabric like it’s something precious, holding it to your chest.

Mark doesn’t glance away as you turn your back to him, hands reaching for the edge of your shirt and you pull it overhead. He stares at your back, the curve of your spine, the way your waist curves and suddenly, he’s hiding an erection behind a Pinocchio T-shirt, eyes locked on the way your back flexes as you pull the Seance Dog shirt on, and he watches the fabric fall just below your ass. Fleshy globes only obscured by your ridiculously short cotton shorts and Mark swallows.

Gaze flitting up to meet yours.

“Looks g-good.” He nearly sputters, hands fisting the fabric of the top in his lap and your eyes lower to the veins that bulge at his hands and forearms.

“Did Pinocchio’s nose always look like that?” Your brows furrow.

Mark begins to sweat, droplets forming at his neck and disappearing behind the neckline of his shirt.

“Yeah.” Mark lies. “You got this at that 3D shirt place, remember? You wanted his nose 3D so it looks like you could poke kids in the eye.”

And while you can’t remember, that does sound like something you’d say.

And you plop into your bed, wriggling beneath the covers before you peer at Mark, watching his muscles shift as he continues and you sigh at the sight, bottom lip wedged between your teeth. And your lips part to make a quip, most probably something offensive but you’re interrupted by Mark’s phone, buzzing incessantly and you glance towards the screen.

And it’s the superhero equivalent of Hailey Bieber.

Your lips purse at Eve’s contact, eyes narrowing and you’re already shifting in bed, internally readying yourself for a brief ‘gotta go’.

Mark’s shoulders stiffen as he shifts, his body nearly throwing itself across yours as he reaches for his phone, swiping at the red button. And he turns his phone off, crawling beneath the covers alongside you and his body blankets yours. His face nestles in the curve your neck, his arms tuck themselves beneath the small of your back and he holds you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

And right now, it feels like it is.

For the first time, in a long time, Mark feels… Complete.

Complete and very, very hard. Cock straining against his boxers, precum staining the stretched fabric and he takes a deep breath, inhaling the smell of you. God.

“You’re so warm…” Mark whispers against your skin, his body shifting and your gaze flicks up to your ceiling, and you’re gonna bite off your bottom lip at this point. Every hole of your body is clenched, your mind is working overtime to commit every sense you’re feeling to memory.

You swallow hard when you realise Mark’s hips are wedged between your thighs, layers of fabric doing nothing to make him feel less of the heat between you, and Mark presses his lips against your pulse. The ball of his nose brushes against your earlobe, his hips press against yours and you’re feeling all of him and simultaneously not enough.

Mark’s pressing sweet kisses against your neck, a low sound leaving the back of his throat when he feels the way your head tips back, exposing the supple flesh of your throat. And Mark sighs against your skin, dragging his tongue up your jugular before lifting his head, shifting until his face is above yours.

Lashes fluttering and his head dips.

Mark’s lips meet yours in a soft kiss. Uncoordinated, so unpracticed, and so, so hot. Mark’s lips move against yours in the sweetest way, hands pawing at your waist, pulling you closer and he loves the way your thighs press against his waist, soft. Inviting.

And so warm.

He loves the way your fingers sink into his hair, nails dragging and carding through his hair, strands slipping from between your fingers. The covers keep the two of you entangled, and Mark can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be than here.

With you.

In your dimly lit room, while your TV plays as background noise. Unable to drown out your sighs, Mark’s hums and the way your body feels against his. He can feel the way your nipples harden beneath that oversized T-shirt, and with each shift of his chest, he hears that whine you let out.

And he swallows your syrupy sweet whines, your tongue tastes like cookies and he feels the way your thighs tremble at his sides.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Mark breathes out. “Please…” His breaths are so hot, fanning against your neck and his hands shift, grasping at your hips with so much want that the action alone has your panties clinging to your cunt.

He lifts his head, soft eyes focused on the way your cheeks are burning even hotter than his, your lashes fluttering and your legs are following his command, wrapping around his waist and he nearly moans at the feel of your heels digging into his lower back, bringing him closer.

And Mark’s head falls against your shoulder.

His hips roll against yours, messy and so unpracticed. You feel the way his cock presses against you, and you nearly whine.

Swallowing hard when he speaks softly. No... Not speaks.

Begs.

“Can I fuck you?”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

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limerlove · 3 months ago

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nsfw themes, eighteen+

gymrat!vi who frequents the gym every day except for sundays. giving into his wishes to be present for their weekly dinner. any other day? she’s getting her pump in. an absolute given in her world. pink-hued strands stick to her scalp as she pushes for a new personal record on the bench, especially when vi’s bulking. whenever she’s training, she’s so zoned in, nothing can distract — well — it used to be nothing.

gymrat!vi who secretly enjoys nothing more than working out with jayce. accountability between two best friends turns into a friendly competition. nothing at stake except their egos. seeing who can outdo the other set after set. something to keep them both in line, fit, and violet enjoys the hit to jayce’s ego whenever she can push weight heavier than jayce.

gymrat!vi who isn’t oblivious to the attention thrown her way. with the heatwave of summertime, her muscles are on full display, defined biceps, toned thighs, and god her tattoos are basically a honey-trap. she would be a fucking liar if she acted disgusted by it, part of her likes it a little too much. but hey, everyone likes to be appreciated from time to time and vi is no exception. and she never really saw a problem with it until a one night stand who then not not so subtly stalked her every time she was in the gym, learning her schedule until she had no choice but to leave her favorite gym. silently, she made a vow to not fuck with girls she met at the gym.

….well, until you.

gymrat!vi who is a known regular. she knows all the girls at the front desk, flirts with many of them, but to her it’s as platonic as chatting up the barista who brews her dose of caffeine in the morning. it’s ingrained into her morning routine, simply just a part of who she is. so, when she sees you at the front desk she nearly has to do a double take. there’s not a hot chance in hell she’s seen you before — vi would have definitely remembered you.

gymrat!vi who becomes shy for the first time in her life, bringing her membership card up to the scanner and offering a small smile but when looks back you seem to take a second look, eyes locked into her powder-blue eyes. even if just for a moment, you’re veering into her thumping soul. vi can’t help but smile. she reminds herself, you’re just another pretty girl. you’re new, probably won’t even last long. yeah, that’s what vi’s going to let herself believe. it’s not like she’s thinking about your gorgeous lips when she bench presses, or thinking about your gorgeous eyes taking her breath away — or when vi’s powerlifting she’s so not thinking about lifting you on top of her.

“if you talk to her, she might actually know your name.”

“w-what, i-i’m not, sh—”

jayce raises his eyebrows at vi, shaking his head as his very questionable friend spots her as she moves the weight the fluidity, her movements only struggling to push through when she reaches the final set.

“she’s the gym owner’s daughter, he’s wanting her to take over the reins, old age and all.” jayce responds as violet places the bar on the rack, her set complete until she moves onto the next one. “your little theory of her not being around for long is kinda crushed. unless you want to find another gym….”

“that’s the whole point of me not talking to her, m’not finding a new gym again. that’s a promise. i can control myself.”

jayce just laughs. fucking laughs.

“what’s so funny, bro?” vi pouts.

“that you genuinely believe you’re gonna be able to stop yourself and that you think you have a type….and she fits the bill.”

“oh, fuck off.” vi grunts.

dropping the fifty pound dumbbells by the bench, lifting up her shirt to wipe some of the sweat off her face only to find you on the other side of the gym, staring directly at her abs like her glistening sweaty skin like it’s a golden ticket to heaven.

“well…fuck.”

gymrat!vi who notices your presence more and more in the coming weeks. this time not just behind the front counter. you’re with the personal trainers, helping new customers fill out paperwork, and this morning you go wherever vi goes, her eyes can’t seem to stop searching for your figure. especially with those tight leggings you always seem to wear, vi couldn’t stop looking at the fat of your ass if her life depended on it. she managed to squeak out more than a hi to you yesterday, but it’s as far as her pleasantries extend.

gymrat!vi who has her headphones placed on her head, her all black workout set; this time something more modest at her disposable. the black and cotton hoodie covers her head, flares of bright pink wisps shadow from the hood but her shorts reach mid thigh, the overworked muscles in her legs flexing as she lifts the weight. jayce isn’t with her today, which means she basically had to physically restrain herself from talking to you today. even if she can see you sneaking glances at her through her workout, eyeing her legs each time she’s on the leg press. greedy, hot, goddess — vi is so fucked.

when she walked the following day, you said her name, violet.

you know her name.

it’s just the database, it’s the only reason.

pull yourself together, idiot.

gymrat!viwho is at the end of her workout, taking her final rest before she does her last set, but here you go again, gawking as you pretend to be readjusting the weight on the racks but you finally stop looking at her, trying to put the last weight, the one-hundred pound bell but you just can’t. even then, vi is trying not to smile with how adorable you look as you struggle.

before making her way over to you, she slides the black pair of headphones on her tattooed neck, popping the hoodie, seeing if anyone else was going to help you — just her luck — there wasn’t a soul in her at midnight besides her….shocker.

“stupid, piece of shit, would you just—”

“need some help there, princess?” vi looks over at you from the workout beach she’s perched on, legs spread wide as her jaw juts out, eyes naturally gleaming with curiosity.

“i should be able to. i can do this, right? yeah? i definitely can do this.”

but it only sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself. the weight of responsibility crushing your spirit by a singular dumbbell. you’re huffing and puffing. life and death here, and all because of a stupid, petty, weight.

vi stands up, her height towering over your hunched finger. “pick it up with your legs. next time, make it’ll easier.”

violet doesn’t really use her legs though. the beautifully strong woman kneels on the ground with you, her gloved hand picks the weight up with ease and places it back on the rack.

“obviously, i know that.”

violet hums before she offers a hand, helping you stand tall. “of course you do.”

the sensation bubbling on her fingertips from touching your skin almost seems downright electric — and now vi feels like running ten miles in the other direction for the sole purpose of settling her heartbeat for just a moment.

“anyways, yeah, sorry to disturb you.”

“not a problem, princess. never going to say no to a pretty girl in distress.”

the smile violet offers is adorable, the one she flashes the girls when she comes in for her late work out, from wherever she comes from. but the way she scratches the nape of her neck? that’s just for you.

gymrat!vi who can’t stop thinking of you, despite her best efforts. constantly, she wonders if you’re seeing someone, but the way you watch her, vi suspects your single as can be. it isn’t until one friday night, just as she’s trying to leave, one of the front girls, rich and pompous, is trying to coax her into meeting her and some friends at the bar tonight. when she’s about to say no for a finale time, growing more uncomfortable by the second, you’ve come up to where she is and, well fuck, violet’s even more embarrassed that one of your employees is hitting on her right in front of you.

“c’mon! jayce says you haven’t been out in ages. you deserve it, you’re always working out so much. if anyone deserves a treat, it’s you.”

cursing out the little shit in her mind, she rolls her eyes, trying to contain herself from having an aneurysm. “little shit, divulging all my secrets.”

sabrina laughs more than she should, tossing her purple hair over her shoulder. carefully, you hover, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone and violet wonders if you stay there for a reason.

if she’s the reason you’re eavesdropping.

“so….is that a yes?”

violet sighs, she hates this. “maybe another time.”

gymrat!vi who wonders what you thought of the entire time. quiet as a mouse, you hadn’t said a single word to her since you were there to witness the rejection of her employee they still couldn’t seem to just stop. this is what she wants. silence…..right? it’s what she keeps telling herself but now vi can’t stop trying to catch your attention, just an ounce of it is all she craves. today, you only spared her a glance before you talked to jayce. pathetically, she decides to do something to catch your attention, hip thrusts.

gymrat!vi who looks up as you watch her pelvis lift the weight placed on her abdomen, pushing sturdy hips through the set as you keep sparing glances gawking at her porcelain skin exposed. she can tell you’re at least trying to pay attention to whatever jayce is saying but you’re interest loses focus when she grunts with one final thrust, the bar rolling away from her legs.

“did you hear that?” vi rolls her eyes at the sound of his chipper voice.

“what?” violet slips her headphones off, trying to even her labored breaths. not just jayce, but the both of you stand above vi as she tries to catch her breath.

“i invited her to our brunch with mel on saturday.”

“oh, is that this saturday?”

oh, he really is playing fucking dirty.

“is there a problem, vi?”

little chicken shit is grinning, goddamn it. she takes another swing from her water bottle, hoping to god you’ll think it’s too forward, too weird, and you’ll just instantly decline.

“not a problem.” vi grits her teeth as she speaks, jaw clenching as she knows this is surely to be a hole there will be no digging out from.

or one she so desperately wants to fill.

rayray rants — UM IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS???? it's kinda different than what i normally post but i might turn it into a little hc series. anyways! hope you like and i have a very special vi post coming soon that i'm really excited about. but yeah! hopefully, i can continue this because vi working out is literally all i can think about. alright, um, see you next time ♡

#❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 ❞#(ᝰ.ᐟ) arcane works.#IM KINDA SORRY ABOUT THE LAST LINE?????#but i’m also trying to make an effort not to take my writing so seriously #and this post is entirely devoted that so i hope you enjoy!#vi arcane #vi x reader #violet x reader #vi arcane x reader #vi x you #violet fanfiction #league of legends #arcane #arcane x reader #violet arcane x reader

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clawsdevour · 26 days ago

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session one

wc: 0.8k content warning: smut, trainer iwaizumi x reader, basically a bj, not proofread

note: holy shit has this been at the back of my mind...... likeee anything with the words iwaizumi hajime (27) atheletic trainer: SIGN ME TF UP NOW.

𝜗ৎ◌˚⠀｡

fuck, your new fitness trainer was so hot.

peeking in glances at iwaizumi's well-built figure, you can't help but feel all nervous that you're gonna slip up under his gaze. his sharp eyes tail you, making sure your form is impeccable and hits the right points, even though his broad and tender arms are always there for you if you struggle. at some point, you thought about playing the struggling, unfit student just to see iwaizumi catch you and feel his muscles beneath you. course, you needed to stand up and make sure you're getting all the benefits from every single penny you pay him.... butttt that's also technically part of the session, right?

after a quick break for some refreshing water, eyes still locked onto iwaizumi in the corner of the room. he's taking off his fitted jacket, showing off his toned biceps that flexed in the light covered in a thin sheen of sweat. shit.... this guy might just be the real deal. who needed the old trainer anyway now that you've got iwaizumi.

meeting his eyes with yours, immediately you can't help but look away to which he does as well. though, your eyes just happened to land on the tent emerging in the middle of his crotch, to which he tries to hide when he realizes you may have seen something that wasn't part of the training plan.

continuing with your paid session, you can't help but feel the intimate tension rise when you're put into these more constricting poses that make you feel closer to him than you were before. well.. especially after that little moment. though it does seem like you're not the only one who acknowledged the incident since his tent keeps growing beneath you.

the position you were in didn't help much either. overall, this "stretch" seemed more sexual than to improve your flexibility, but you didn't really mind since the view was much to your standards with that face and body of his. the intensity is driving him crazy, the sentences he spoke turned into quiet stutters while you lay underneath his big body that was engulfed in the heat.

"let me help you.. you're feeling this more than i am," getting on your knees, you looking up at him with the more innocent but seductive look in your eyes.

shit, did that turn iwaizumi a bright red.

putting a fist to his pressed lips, he cleared his throat.

"if you insist."

gently, you pushed him back to where he sat on the bench. unzipping his shorts, his cock sprang up from its compressed little tent. iwaizumi's cock was huge, you didn't even know if it'll all fit in your mouth, much rather your pussy that has been gushing with juices the moment you saw him walk in.

palm at the base of his cock that twitched with your gentle touch, precum already on the tip of his cock, you stroked. his intense eyes bored into your scalped while watching you pump his cock to the max. iwaizumi's beyond red at this point trying to resist the urge to already reach his climax. fuck he was so glad you asked to help him, if not he probably wouldn't exploded in his shorts by now seeing you under him in that pose, "stretch" his ass. he just wanted to see you with your legs behind your head.

the continuous pumping's getting him so riled up he just can't watch this anymore. it's like a fantasy come true fucking on the job. iwaizumi wanted to watch you take all of him in your small little mouth as your plump lips wrap around him.

"can you suck already.. our time for our session is almost up" iwazumi's voice is husky and breathy as he tries his best to hold back.

following his request, you slowly teased him by licking the precum that overflowed from his tip as he gazed. before you could even go down on his whole cock, mouth wide about to go down, his large hand pushed you to the base of his cock. your nose basically at his trimmed hairs. iwaizumi's grunting in satisfaction of your soft and hot plush mouth surrounds his cock in pure euphoria.

fuck... you couldn't even breathe but damn was this all you ever wanted.

tears started to swell at the corner of your eyes from the sudden and sharp movement. the pain of his tip hitting the back of your throat in one big move hissed at you, but you couldn't care less. you're spending every penny worth for every session you pay iwaizumi for, and he knows what you want every time now.

masterlist here

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delawarescalpmicropigmentation1 · 2 years ago

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Professional Scalp Micropigmentation Training Course – Unlocking Thriving Career Opportunities for Aspiring Youngsters

Want to create a thriving and successful career in the domain of cosmetics? Scalp micropigmentation training is taking the charge by storm to unlock fabulous career opportunities for avid candidates. Continue reading this blog to learn various types of advantages you can grab by taking a professional SMP training course.

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wileys-russo · 5 months ago

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the perfect gift II a.putellas

first of my christmas fics for this year! the perfect gift II a.putellas

"-but amor that is not fair!" your wife groaned, slumping down in her chair with a grumpy look plastered into her features. "you asked me a question and i gave you an answer." you smiled coyly, rinsing off the plates you'd both just eaten dinner off of.

"no! i ask you, what is the gift? you say, the gift is perfect. not an answer!" the blonde contested with a scowl, still sat at the table as you chuckled and bent down to load the plates into the dish washer.

"why not? the gift is perfect mi amor, and you will love it." you grinned knowing this was getting under her skin. "can i have a uh, a clue?" alexia tried, frown switching to a charming smile making you snicker as you rounded the bench and headed toward her.

your wife scooted her chair back a little as you arrived, her hands settling possessively on your waist, slender fingers gently tracing the sliver of skin peeking out between your shorts and top.

"mmm a clue." you hummed, pausing as if to think as you pushed your hands through her hair, nails scratching against her scalp as a content exhale dropped from her lips.

"it is something..." you leaned down as her head tilted back, lips ghosting her own which had curled up into a small smile clearly thinking she had bested you and got her own way.

"...hidden where you will not find it." you pecked her lips sweetly before shimmying away. "que? cari that is not a clue!" alexia straightened up with the scoff and scowl combo she was famous for.

"it is a clue to stop being so nosy putellas. you will get your gift on christmas, same as every year!" you warned with a wink, grabbing the bowl of leftover salad and moving back to the kitchen to wrap it and put it away.

"dios mío then why you tell me!" the blonde threw her hands up with something that sounded between a groan and a whine.

"i did not 'tell you'. alexia you overheard me on a private phone call say i got you the 'perfect gift' and you have not stopped asking me about it since!" you laughed, closing the fridge and shooting her a look.

"no need for privacy in marriage!" your wife dismissed with a wave of her hands, an eyebrow cocked in her direction having her slumping back down in her chair, a barely audible apology grumbled.

"who were you talking to?" alexia perked up a little and questioned curiously as you stared her down, hand on hip. "yes because i am going to tell you so you can call and harrass them." you caught right on, enjoying the slight pink flush which crept up your wifes neck as you did.

"it was my mami, and i did not tell her what the gift was. only that it was perfect!" you grinned, making your way back to the table and bending down to kiss away your wifes moody pout.

"eres una mujer malvada." the blonde grumbled in her native tongue, watching as you began to back up, headed toward the door. with a hum you grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, watching as immediately your wives eyes dropped down to your chest.

"mujer malvada?" you hummed, wiggling your hips out of your shorts as alexia's jaw slackened, eyes trained to you like a hawk as you continued toward the door.

"evil woman is going for a shower amor, but have fun pouting." you winked, spinning around and striding toward the bathroom, smile on your lips as within milliseconds of you starting a countdown in your head footsteps thundered after you.

a squeal left you next as your feet were swept off the ground, your wife basically carrying you fireman style toward the shower, your hand slapping against her ass with a laugh as she kicked the door shut behind the two of you

"estoy de vuelta!" you called out as you let yourself in, frowning when there was nothing back in reply, but you'd seen your wives car parked next to yours in the garage downstairs.

"ale? amor?" you called out again, hanging your coat up and sliding off your shoes, leaving both in their place by the entryway. "alexia! estás aquí?" you called again, checking room by room.

"alexia if this is you trying to scare me, sex is off the table!" you warned seriously, the normally stern captain not above lurking around a corner and jumping out, giggling to herself afterwards like a little kid.

finally you found her, the bathrooms and bedroom all coming up empty until you cautiously poked your head around the corner of the laundry, a tattooed tanned back greeting you.

"ale!" you exhaled somewhat in relief, frowning when she didn't turn around or even acknowledge you in the slightest.

"baby are you still hung up on the-" your hand landed on her shoulder, leaping back when seconds later your wife spun around, you barely having time to duck as her own hand shot out at you.

"oh mierda!" alexia swore wide eyed once she realised it was only you, pulling out the airpods you'd not noticed in her ears which was clearly why she hadn't heard you.

"lo siento mucho bebé. lo siento mucho!" alexia gasped, wincing and shielding her face as you smacked her a few times with a face like thunder. "i told you! about these! stupid things!" you grunted with each blow which bounced uselessly off of her toned shoulders.

"lo sé! vale vale vale." your wife caught your hands in hers, smiling guiltily as you yanked them free and glared her down. "breathe amor." alexia echoed, inhaling and exhaling deeply as you bit your tongue but copied her actions none the less.

"welcome back?" the blonde tried, opening her arms for a hug as you scoffed and turned around on heel, stomping back off as she hurried after you. though you didn't get more than two steps into the bedroom before you were tripping over again, large hands grabbing your waist and steadying you.

"alexia! i asked you to do this before you went to training." you groaned, squatting down and shoving the dirty laundry back into the basket that you'd tripped over, having purposefully left it there so your wife wouldn't miss it.

"i was going to." the blonde winced at the narrowed eyed glare sent her way. "i will do it." you grumbled, grabbing the basket and pushing past the taller girl who bit her lip, knowing she had to try and fix this.

"i can do it princesa." she appeared in the doorway as you merely hummed, ignoring her as you loaded the washing in, pausing for a second as you ticked things over in your head.

"you were already in here, half naked. qué estabas haciendo?" you accused, staring her down as she opened and closed her mouth a few times clearly trying to think of an answer.

"getting ready! to do...the uh, clothes." alexia rubbed the back of her neck, pointing to her shirt which was draped across the laundry sink as you narrowed your eyes, and then it clicked.

"you were looking for the gifts while i was not home!" you gasped in realization, your apartment fully decorated but knowing what your wife was like you always hid her gifts for the last few years.

it had all started when you'd come home early one day from work and found her meticulously re-wrapping everything, looking up like a guilty kid who'd just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

safe to say ever since that christmas the gifts under your tree were always for other people, alexia arguing each year she was older and far too mature to go snooping.

only this was now the third time this week you'd caught her looking.

"me? no! princesa, i would not." alexia scoffed, dismissing you with a wave of her hand and snatching the basket, busying herself stuffing the washing machine with clothes as you could only hum skeptically.

if only she knew you weren't lying when you said that it was hidden somewhere she would never be finding it.

"son tan bonitos!" alba squealed happily, clapping her hands as the two of you shared a delighted grin, your wife watching on with a soured and much less content look on her face from where she sat on the sofa.

"necesitamos esto todos los años?" the footballer sighed, head thumping back against the sofa with a pained look toward the matching pyjama sets in your hand.

"sí! and you will wear them. your mami already has hers on!" you nodded off into the kitchen where eli was busy making dinner, having shooed all of you out when you tried to help, rapping your wife on the knuckles with a spatula when she'd been insistent on staying.

"your family have them too, no?" alba questioned as she plucked hers out of the bag as you nodded. "you would not want to make my family sad amor?" you pouted playfully.

"when they are all the way in england and-" you were cut off as there was a gentle kick against your shin, alexia huffing but holding her hands out expectantly.

"i love you." you launched at her, a grunt leaving her lips as you landed and kissed all over her face, ignoring her younger sisters joking gags of disgust behind you before she disappeared to go and change.

"sí, sí. ya lo sé!" your wife rolled her eyes jokingly, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a real kiss, the two of you forcing yourselves apart as you heard someone clear their throat, eli's watchful eye hovering with a somewhat amused smile.

"more?" alexia groaned as alba grabbed her arm and pulled her back down as she tried to stand, the three of you having been taking photos together in your matching christmas pyjamas for what to your wife felt like hours now.

"no no no, estoy cansado. nos vamos a la cama!" your wife warned sternly, pushing her sisters hands off and quickly standing, holding her hand out expectantly for you to take.

with a chuckle of amusement you hugged your sister in law goodnight, eli having already headed off to bed not long ago as the three of you stayed up to have a drink and watch a movie.

it had been tradition for every year you spent christmas in spain that you and alexia would stay at her childhood home the night before christmas eve, no different than you would stay at yours every second year where the two of you would spend it in england with your own family.

teeth brushed and faces washed the two of you lay squashed together in her old bed, having spent the last thirty minutes teasing her for the fact her room was like a portal frozen in time, eli not having changed a thing since alexia was a teenager.

"no baby i think it is very cute." you smirked, alexia snatching the framed photo of her and alba dressed up like bunnies out of your hand, leaning over to place it back down on the dresser.

"lo haces siempre." your wife grumbled, your face softening into a smile from where you sat straddling her hips.

"mi chica linda." you promised, hands cupping her cheeks as you leant down to kiss her, pulling away far too soon for her liking as she puffed air from her nose and made grabby hands trying to tug you back down.

"más besos." the blonde pouted a little, tapping her lips as you melted, forever swooning for her soft she could be when it was just the two of you, even if it had been years and years of it now.

it was that overwhelming love for the hazel eyed girl beneath you which spurred on your next words, a hand on her chest stopping her from trying to pull you down on top of her, no doubt to flip the two of you within seconds.

"espere aquí." you whispered in the dark, pecking her lips and watching them turn downward into a confused frown as you moved off of her, sliding out of bed and padding across the room.

"princesa? qué haces?" concern dripped from her tone as she moved to sit up, watching you drop down and rummage through your overnight bag, finally finding what you needed.

"close your eyes, please." you hid it behind your back and made your way back to her, alexia looking on a little skeptical as you nodded reassuringly, kissing her sweetly and promising it would be worth it.

with a small sigh her eyes fluttered close, eyebrows furrowing as she felt the bed dip and the covers be pulled back, your weight and warmth settling back on top of her.

"closed amor!" you pinched her thigh softly catching one chocolate brown eye crack open curiously, corners of her mouth lifting upward to try and hide a smile at your swift reaction.

you grabbed her hands in yours, turning them upwards and watching her flinch a little as you slid what felt like a photo strip into them, folding her fingers over to close her fist.

"vale. open!" you encouraged, letting go as alexias eyes shot open, squinting a little to try and make out what was in her hand in the dimply lit room, the overhead lights off and only a lamp to guide her vision.

though she barely needed it, tweaking what was in her hand after just a few seconds with a sharp inhale, head snapping right up as your lips curled into a grin seeing the shock on her face.

"this-this-...yours?" your wife spluttered out, sitting bolt upright as you nodded. "ours." you corrected softly, lifting your shirt up and grabbing her spare hand, settling it onto the warmed skin.

"mi amor, it worked." you whispered, the two of you having not long finished your second round of IVF, something you'd kept strictly between the two of you, not wanting the added stress of other peoples expectations weighing in.

"i-the baby? a baby!" alexia practically yelled as you stifled a laugh and smacked a hand over her mouth but nodding furiously. "ale!" you squealed as you were pulled down off on top of her, back hitting the bed as alexia now hovered on top of you.

your laughter was swallowed as her mouth captured yours, your body tingling with all the love poured into just that simple kiss with her, drowned in her adoration for you as she muttered her disbelief, forehead pressed against yours for a moment just soaking it in.

"hay un bebé aquí?" alexia knelt between your legs, hands on your hips and staring intently at your stomach as you chuckled quietly and nodded.

"sí, nuestro niño." you flinched a little as alexias chin came to rest on your stomach, the girl staring at it in wonder, a comfortable silence falling between you.

your hands threaded through her hair with a soft smile as she placed a tender kiss to your stomach, pushing some loose flyaways out of her face as her wonderstruck gaze met yours.

"this is it cariño, the perfect christmas gift."

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso blurbs

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robjamessmp · 1 month ago

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Hair Replacement in Vancouver, BC: Restore Confidence with the Best Solutions

For many, hair is more than just a feature—it’s a reflection of identity, personality, and confidence. But hair loss, whether due to genetics, stress, or medical conditions, can feel disheartening. Fortunately, advancements in hair restoration technology are making it easier than ever to regain a full, natural-looking head of hair. If you’re in Vancouver, BC, and exploring hair replacement solutions, you’re in the right place.

Why Consider Hair Replacement Vancouver, BC?

Vancouver, BC, is renowned for its cutting-edge health and beauty services. From the scenic backdrop of the city’s mountains to its focus on wellness, Vancouverites take pride in looking and feeling their best. The city is home to some of Canada’s top hair replacement specialists, offering state-of-the-art solutions tailored to individual needs, hair transplant Vancouver cost.

Hair replacement in Vancouver, BC, isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about restoring confidence and reclaiming a sense of self. Whether you're dealing with thinning hair, bald patches, or total hair loss, there’s a solution designed to help you look and feel your best.

What Are Hair Replacement Options?

Hair replacement technology has evolved significantly in recent years. Today, there are numerous options available to suit different needs, including:

Non-Surgical Hair Replacement Non-surgical hair replacement systems offer an immediate transformation. These systems are made with high-quality, natural-looking hair and are customized to blend seamlessly with your existing hair. They are an excellent choice for those seeking a non-invasive solution.

Hair Transplant Surgery Hair transplants are a surgical option for permanent hair restoration. Specialists in Vancouver, BC, use advanced techniques like Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE) and Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT) to achieve natural, long-lasting results.

Scalp Micropigmentation (SMP) Scalp micropigmentation is a non-invasive treatment that replicates the appearance of hair follicles using tiny pigment deposits. This is a popular option for those who prefer a shaved-head look or want to add density to thinning areas.

Hair Growth Therapies For individuals in the early stages of hair loss, treatments like platelet-rich plasma (PRP) therapy and laser hair therapy can stimulate natural hair growth. These therapies are widely available in Vancouver, BC, and are performed by trained professionals.

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Choosing the right hair replacement clinic is essential. Look for clinics that:

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Embrace the New You

Hair replacement in Vancouver, BC, is about more than just regaining hair—it’s about restoring your confidence and embracing the best version of yourself. Whether you choose a non-surgical system, a hair transplant, or a scalp treatment, the path to self-renewal is closer than you think.

Take the first step today by exploring the many reputable clinics in Vancouver, BC, and get ready to rediscover the confident, vibrant you.

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