#after the meeting today it's not insane anymore

[zenathezee]

Being able to go to my boss and say "the difference between me happy to work here until I go to grad school and wanting to quit everyday is this one thing" and have her be like yeah that's fair is SO POWERFUL

[dormiloncito]

it's so over

[cathnospam]

Bakugo makes you laugh, A LOT and it drives him insane.

“It was not that damn funny.”

You try to conceal the snickers from your mouth, but fail horribly. All he did was mutter something about Mineta being a punk ass and it had you giggly.

At first he used to take offense by it, maybe you were laughing AT him and not what he says, almost like mocking him, that wasn’t until Deku quickly explained in passing that you laugh very easily.

But you don’t laugh this damn much with anybody else but him. At this point he thought you had a similar quirk to Ms. Joke, and he nicknamed you Giggles.

You both were studying in the library like you both usually do during exam week, and Bakugo noticed you haven’t been Miss. Cackle the past few days. Not even a smile actually and you’d think it would have been some relief for him from hearing your laugh obxonious laugh, but he’s actually more annoyed.

He looks up from his book and glances at you across the table, you’re typing away, with a less that neutral look on your face. Lips somehow forming a pout and eyes looking droopy. He scoffs going back to his work, but it was an itch he needed to scratch with you..?

“Who pissed in your breakfast.”

“What?”

“You been looking like a sad lost puppy all week what the hell is your problem.”

The corner of your lips cracked upwards a bit, almost as if you were fighting to smile, but instead you shrug, “‘Nothing you needa worry about. Why.”

It was almost concerning how calm you sounded. Your voice was more tame that you didn’t even sound recognizable which make Bakugo crease his brows, “You suck at lying. Is it, because of that shitty boyfriend you have pissed you off.”

He was referring to Shindo, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he was a guy you got close with after meeting him a few years ago, but Bakugo was half right he was part of the problem.

You had a small crush on Shindo , but overheard him tell his classmates how he isn’t into you like that mainly because you’re not his type and how much he can’t stand how loud you talk/laugh sometimes.

It hurt hearing it, when he found out you heard he tried apologizing but you didn’t wanna hear it, so since then you’ve turn self conscious about speaking and laughing too loudly for the past week to avoid anymore issues that you have caused with people.

After slowly explaining to the Blonde he rolled his eyes, “You’re ganna let the walking vibrator dictate your life too? So stupid.”

“You hate my laugh too. What does it matter.”

Bakugo stayed silent for a moment while you went back to work. Thinking how could he word what he wants to say without sounding like an idiot, “I never said that, besides you never stopped even when I did tell you your laugh was annoying. If you want to cackle like a hyena who gives a fuck—“

You break into a snicker but end up covering it with your hand. He cracks a proud smirk, he almost forgot what you looked like with a smile, “I don’t wanna be loud. Just can’t help it.”

“We know.”

You giggle at his deadpanned voice, it really wasn’t your fault, you’re just so easy to please and Bakugo knows that, “Giggly ass, and I seen you almost laugh when Denki tripped at the lecture today.”

“Becauuseee he is always so dramatic when he falls.” You whined into a chuckle, sharing a small one with him.

It was a start of many more shared laughs after studying, Katsuki even tried to be just a LITTLE bit more funnier than usual when walking back to the dorms. When you finally cracked a real loud one out he felt himself grinning at you.

“Katsuki Alexander Bakugo are you smiling?”

“Don’t you EVER say my full name like that again got dammit I will blow you the hell UP!”

You almost fall to your knees of how funny his reaction was to you, it felt so good to smile again. You missed it, and so did everybody else the next day apparently.

Mina and some others thought you were depressed, Deku assumed you were sick, Denki outwardly blamed Bakugo which got him smacked, and IIda actually missed your loud noises as well.

Your classmates enjoyed your presence more than you thought they did.

But Bakugo missed it the most.

Your laughs drives him insane, because he loves to hear them.

[rinawantstosleep]

"I don't like your stupid, white hair." 

"And I don't like your boring, brown hair, buddy."

"W-well... well, I don't like your ugly, doo-doo face!"

"Your mama does." 

The two could go bickering like this for hours on end if you let them. What may seem to be a mutually digressive arrangement is actually an oddly adorable bonding in disguise. Satoru and your son put on a front of being annoyed at the other's presence, but you've never seen them apart for longer than a few minutes at a time. They've grown on each other; much like how moss grows on a statue that's been lingering out in the open. An indispensable cycle of life that's truly inevitable. 

"No, she doesn't! She doesn't! She likes... sof- sofis... sofistogated guys."

"You mean sophisticated?"

"Shut up!" 

You'd been terrified that your little one wouldn't have a father-figure to rely on anymore after you divorced your husband. However, it was something you had to do for his sake. The child deserved to live in an environment that wasn't always reeking of alcohol, where he wasn't subjected to the constant, drunk yelling of a pathetic excuse of a father who couldn't get his shit together and lazed around at home all day while you did all the work. If that meant that you'd have to raise him on his own, then so be it. At least he'd be raised properly. Signing those papers was, by far, the easiest decision you'd ever made. 

"I'm not shutting up because a kid in clothes too big for him is telling me to."

"You... you're the one always wearing tight clothes around the house to impress my mama."

"No, that's because I'm ripped. Gotta show off what I've got. And your mama loves that." 

"Oh, yeah? That means you show off your... your - um... ugly, doo-doo face!"

Would you regard it a miracle that Satoru just so happened to stumble into your life around that very time? Well, relatively. Meeting him wasn't something you'd planned, nor anticipated. The kind stranger who offered to pay for your order at a café a year ago has somehow, thanks to quite a romantic sequence of events, turned into your boyfriend; a rock to lean on for when you need the support. And, also, someone that your little one can look up to (with the fun, bonus benefit of the pair getting into silly, childish quarrels nine times out of ten). What is Satoru if not a three-hundred-and-thirty-six-month-old toddler, too? Puts your five-year-old to utter shame with the way he acts. 

"Enough. Baby, we've been over this before. Behave."

"But, mama, he's being a meanie!" "But, babe, he's acting all pretentious." 

The responses come simultaneously: one is high pitched and whiny, and the other is your son. Sometimes, you have to pause and ask yourself how you haven't gone insane yet. It's the love that keeps you from falling apart. How could you ever harbor any other feeling for these two, except for wanting to cherish them? You just... need to work on a pet name that doesn't apply to the both of them at once.  

"I don't want to hear it. Sweetie, finish your lunch. And, Satoru?" 

"Yes, honey-who-loves-me-and-my-'ugly, doo-doo'-face?" He's smirking, snickering, while saying this, the sly bastard. When will the pair ever relent on trying to one-up the other? 

"Why have you got one of my hair ties on your wris- never mind. Don't forget to change the sheets in our room. I'd do it myself if not for the meeting I need to get to in an hour." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Cue a tiny gasp. 

"But, mama..." The voice of your little one breaks the peaceful silence at the dining table once again. His legs start kicking back and forth - a sign that he's growing restless - from the chair they're dangling off of. He's got a protest already forming up in that head of his. "Toru said he'd take me to the skate park today. And he promised to get ice cream after."

Toru, huh? That's new. You can't help the smile that paints itself on your lips. The two have been getting along pretty well, it seems, contrary to all the bickering they do. That's always nice to know. It's amusing to see the dynamic they've built. One second, they're riling each other up to no end, the next, they've already formed a secret alliance to go out and have fun together. How cute. "Is that so?"

"Mhm! So that means we need to leave��riiight after I finish my lunch. Don't get mad, okay?" 

It's the small things like these that warm your heart. Some sacrifices can be made if it's in regards to this adorable (step, even though you haven't married Satoru yet)father-son moment. The sheets are insignificant right now. "Awwh. Of course I won't get mad, baby. It's good for you to want to spend more time with Satoru. Isn't he a fun guy?"

"... maybe." 

. . . 

"Just make sure he's safe out there. Helmet and gear on at all times, no big ramps. And don't let him eat too much sugar. He'll get hyper. Once the rush dies down, he'll get cranky -"

Satoru's arm wraps around your waist before you can finish your sentence, pulling you overwhelmingly close to his frame. Instinctively, your arms move to wrap around his neck, just the way Satoru likes it. Oh, how he wants to just throw everything else out the window and drag you to the nearest room with a lock in place.

"You -" A quick peck to your lips, followed by a nibble on your bottom lip. "- worry -" Another peck. "- too -" Another. "- much." Then, an unexpected bite on the shell of your right ear. "I'd never allow myself to let that little demon get hurt; or hyper."

Large hands wander across the curve of your back, resting firm on your butt. Satoru doesn't want to expose your son to the way he's squeezing your plush flesh with his long digits, so he shifts to have your back pressed against the wall. A perfect opportunity to kiss you - which the man can't help but seize. What else is a smitten boyfriend to do while waiting for your son to get ready and come down from his room upstairs? Lips against lips until one of you pulls away for air. "He's safe with me, okay?" 

"Okay." 

"Atta girl. Now, you go to that meeting of yours. And, tonight, after we both get back- oww."

"Groooss! Don't kiss my mama, or you'll make her ugly! Like youuu!"

"Baby, no. Don't kick Satoru's ankles-"

"I'm saving you, mama."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[limethefirst]

Void Runners Pt. 1

pairings: Deadpool x Wolverine x teen!reader

warnings: contains heavy spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, swearing, blood, the normal deadpooly stuff

summary: Reader has been trapped in the void for a few months now, after getting into trouble with the TVA, when they suddenly stumble upon a Deadpool and a Wolverine.

Part 2 / Part 3

a/n: if this gets popular enough I might write a part two, I'm having Deadpool and Wolverine brainrot, also this is unedited so pls tell me if you see mistakes

It had been 4 months since you had been sent to the Void; the apocalyptic like plain, becoming what you had accepted as your new home.

You were a time traveler, that had accidently messed up some big event and that caused the TVA to come and take care of you. You weren't sure what the big event was, something about some saving some rich guys parents. You thought you were doing a good thing by it but apparently not.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter anymore, you were now stuck here. You'd been alone most of the time, sometimes seeing other people but you had learned quickly into your stay that these others were part of this group formed by Cassandra Nova, an insanely powerful woman who you never dared cross paths with.

Until unfortunately today.

Sadly you stumbled upon the wrong people at the wrong time. As you were walking through the dusty plains, you saw two men falling from the sky, thinking back on your heroic days you felt obligated to help out. That was not the best idea, you tried to go up to the men but instead they started arguing when a fight suddenly broke out between them. By the time the fight had ended you had blood all over your (as clean as they can be in the void) shoes.

"Augh, I just cleaned these too." Is what seemed to snap the men out of whatever had just happened.

"Oh my gosh! How long has the movie been out? Five days, and we are already getting reader inserts? Wow!" The man in the red mask said to no one in particular, "And what might your name be sunshine?"

"Uh Y/N, are you guys okay, you seem to be stabbed in a lot of places?" You answered a bit concerned after seeing two men almost tear each other apart.

"Oh this? Sorry, my partner here has weird kinks-" The strange man is cut off by the other seemingly older man punching him in the jaw. "See what I mean kiddo?"

"Enough Wade." The older man gruffed, his arms crossing as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Whatever you say sugar cube!" The man known as Wade looked back at you, "Oh you must be wondering who we are huh! Well this hairy beast of a man is the one and only Wolverine, and I am your friendly neighbor Deadpool!" Wolverine looked at you and sighed at the at his 'partners' antics.

From there things only went downhill, and that is how you were stuck with them being hauled off to Cassandra Nova's lair.

"Awee are we having a flashback already?!" Deadpool's annoying voice rang from in front of you. Currently you were stuck in a ball like cage with, Johnny Storm, Wolverine and Deadpool.

Johnny began to explain to the men where we were all headed, going over the basics of who were about to meet and the type of woman Cassandra was. You looked a bit ahead as you noticed you were already here.

As you guys had come to a stop you saw the others being throw out of the cage, you held up your chained hands to the man before they could throw you as well, "I got it, thanks" jumping out before you got tossed as well.

At the same time you got down you heard Deadpool's odd comment, "Huh, Paul Rudd finally aged." You turned down at the man slightly and gave him a quick look of confusion unsure what he was talking about; his partner seemingly unphased by the comment, most likely used to it.

Looking ahead ignoring the bickering next happening to your right, you saw what seemed to be a bald woman in the mouth of the giant skull. As the dust cleared you could see her get up from the wheelchair she was sitting on, "What was the point of the wheelchair.." You dully commented.

Deadpool adding on, "Oh ableism great, that's not gonna go over well with the Woke mob!"

You looked at your surroundings, no longer caring about the scene unfolding before you, Deadpool began to talk with Cassandra, somehow coming up on the topic of a coke, loving roommate.

After a bit more talking between the two you hear Deadpool slandering Cassandra, and then telling her it was all Johnny who said it. This brought back your attention just in time to see Johnny's skin ripped from his skeleton.

"Not my favorite Chris." Deadpool says, not having much remorse for the scene in front of him.

"You piece of shit you just got him fucking killed." Wolverine adds, pointing at the remains of Johnny.

"Awe I kinda liked him," You mumbled to yourself, as Wolverine looked at you with a look of discouragement on his face, almost as if saying not to get Deadpool started with this.

"Hey we are all grieving," Deadpool yells, "He doesn't know what he was doing to the budget." He mumbled the last part.

Cassandra ignored his words and walked past the group, "Shush, Alioth's hungry."

"There must be some kind of mistake," Deadpool started again, "Big yellow is an anchor being and I'm Marvel Jesus, MJ if you're nasty." Cassandra turned her head a little as you stood next to them listening to their story, not getting the chance to hear it earlier. "This may be hard to hear but there's another British villain, he's gonna destroy my universe and I'm gonna stop him."

"Oh honey you don't really strike me as the world saving type." Cassandra answered him, this seemed to upset the laidback man. You watched as he seemed to straighten himself up hearing that. "Did I hit a nerve?" She turns back, almost sarcastically.

"I didn't want it to come to this," Deadpool says, "Either you help us or my friend here is gonna sing the entire second act of Music Man with no warm up"

You look at him confused, "What the hell is that?"

"Where'd you get the chair?" Wolverine asks Cassandra as she walks back towards the skull.

She quickly answers, "Every once in a while we get a Charles here, never mind though, he didn't care to find me."

Deadpool leans back seemingly annoyed, "Ughh Gen Z and their trauma bragging!" He shoots you a quick glance, "Can't you just stuff it down and turn it into a cancer like the rest of us?"

"But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together." A light smile graced Cassandra's face as she watches you guys.

You watch their exchange a little more before you notice the purple mist coming up behind you guys slowly getting closer. As you turn back around you see Wolverine getting dragged through the ground and Deadpool backing up.

"I am so not with them." You tell Cassandra hoping that doesn't happen to you.

"Oh yes they are." Deadpool fires back, making sure he isn't next. Unfortunately for him he was, you watched as Cassandra got behind him and put her fingers in his head.

She began to whisper something and within the next minute she let go. Deadpool shook his head and started rambling yet again, "You are so mean! I could taste your fingers! They taste like hate, and where in God's name is the intimacy coordinator?!"

"You're so lost Mr Wilson, long before you came here." Cassandra told him.

He took out his knife and held it up, "This is baby knife, she's gonna fuck you in the face now."

Cassandra looked at the knife at back at him, "If you're going to kill me it's going to take more then a little blade."

"How about six?" Before she could say anything else, Wolverine came up behind her and stabbed her with his claws.

"Holy shit" You said covering your mouth.

Before you could celebrate, Cassandra began laughing and fell from the claws, "This has been fun but the big guy needs to eat and the rent is due." She turned around walking away as a looming shadow of darkness rose above the skeleton you were in.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything people had scattered and Deadpool grabbed you and hoisted you up over his shoulder taking you towards the machine Wolverine was trying to fix for an escape.

You hadn't a second to say anything because the next thing you knew, you were being taken with them hopefully away from the giant monster.

[lolokouhm]

| Suguru doesn't eat, but tonight he's hungry | smutty smutty smut | tattooed Geto | depressed Geto | kinda poetic | Geto is young and beautiful and not crazy |

„You haven’t eaten, have you?”

No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.

It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.

You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break. 

„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again. 

You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.

And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised. 

„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.

Suguru chuckles. 

„Spicy.” 

A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again. 

The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.

You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that. 

In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth. 

And you are anything but cold. 

So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay. 

Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you. 

It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t. 

You’re not running.

You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him? 

„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…

„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.” 

„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather. 

„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.

And that’s exactly what you do. 

Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.

And that’s exactly what he does. 

His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured. 

„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you. 

And you let him. 

He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.

„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god. 

And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.

He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier. 

„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.” 

You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.

„Come for me, baby.”

So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue. 

You take it.

His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue. 

And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.

„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”

Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind. 

He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.

And you’re the god.

You asked him about it one night. 

„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”

He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.

His god is right there, under his fingers.

You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become. 

One. 

„Are you still hungry?” 

You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.

„Starving.”

masterlist ❤️

[acotarxreader]

Storm Chaser

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: You and Azriel go your separate ways after a vicious fight leaves Azriels jealousy calling the shots but can the ever brave Illyrian brave a storm without you.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, storms?

A/N: A silly goofy fic. I wrote 5 other fics today and I'm going back to edit a monster of a one tomorrow, it has such a serious amount of angst in it I've run out of synonyms 😂 Nothing like a day off from college to send my hands typing😌

------------------------------------------

“WELL THEN?!”

“IF YOU DON'T STOP SHOUTING AT ME AZRIEL I’M LEAVING!” your partner crossed his arms tightly across his chest and furrowed his brows, anger and frustration twisted across his face. He huffed loudly while you threw your head back in frustration. Taking a long, deep breath in and out before looking at him again. His bedroom, the stage of this battle.

“Azriel” he couldn't meet your eyes. You huffed at his response. Azriel was always the jealous type but this was taking it to the next level.

“I’m the one who should be mad with you Azriel… you followed me...like I was one of your targets” you said quietly and firmly. Azriel still looking anywhere but you.

“Azriel…”

“WELL WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO YNN?!” His raise in volume again fueled your anger.

“I DON'T KNOW? HMMM? WHAT COULD MY PARTNER HAVE POSSIBLY DONE TO FIND OUT IF I WAS CHEATING ON HIM? HMMM, I WONDER, I MEAN HE COULDN'T TALK TO ME ABOUT IT, THAT WOULD BE INSANITY!” you sarcastically shout back to match his volume. Azriel ran his hands through his hair in angry frustration. He hated this argument even though he was always the one to start it. He couldn’t help his thoughts, his jealousy, his behaviour.

“You have to stop this incessant insecurity” The words cut Azriel probably deeper than you intended, his voice escaping him before he could control it.

“OH FUCK OFF YNN I WOULDN'T PUT IT PAST YOU, YOUR PARENTS WERE CHEATING ON EACH OTHER, IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY!” Azriel tried to stop the words from bellowing from him as they left his mouth but he couldn’t. You took a step back from him at the words, regret fogging Azriel instantly. 

“No wait YNN, I didn’t mea-”

“Don't call me that, don’t call me YNN ever again” You fought the tears growing, this was further than the argument usually ran on for. Deeper than it had before. 

“I-I can’t do this anymore Az! I can’t! This is insanity, round and round again. It’s too much, it’s too much all the time, you’re too much all the time. You go off threatening everyone who even looks at me. You threatened Cassian, Az. Cassian! I can’t handle your intensity every single day in and out.” The words were low and shaky as Azriel found himself unable to support his weight under your words, sitting down to relieve some ounce of strain on the edge of his bed. 

“You don’t love me anymore?” The words were as heartbreaking as the look on his face. You sat slowly next to him, taking his hand lightly in yours. 

“I think I love you so much some days I think my heart will burst but-but- I need space, I need time, I need-”

“Anyone but me? I can’t help but want to protect you” You shook your head at his words, standing again, releasing his hand for what would be the last time in a long while. 

“This level of control goes beyond protecting. Az I-”

“Go YNN, leave! Go!” anger leaked through the words, his armour to shield his shattering heart, his face twisting in an almost blind rage, a look he had never given you ran a chill down your spine. Then you did. You went.

-

You fell to the outskirts of the group, only meeting to carry out your official role within the Court as Rhysand’s emissary to the other Solar Courts. You and Azriel did your best to stay out of one another's way, trying not to show the hurt you both still felt by the words that had cut you both. The group could feel the awkward energy but chose to believe that you both would sort it yourselves and were in no rush to get involved. A few months after the break up, Feyre had had enough of the divide. 

“Please come YN”

“Feyre” you sighed, closing your novel, landing your eyes on Feyre's puppy dog eyes. 

“C’mon, we’re all going to the cabin for my birthday, it’ll be fun! Please come, Mor is already not coming because she’s on the continent, you’re not also going to bail are you?”

“Fine” you sighed, the guilt trip working on you. 

-

Your friends and you sat around the painted living room table of the cabin, the wind howling violently outside. You enjoyed the familiar energy of your family truly relaxing into their environment. You sat across the way from Azriel, all playing a round of cards, for the first time in a long time, some element of normalcy hung between you. Until it was time for bed. 

Everyone was mated except for you and Azriel, even Amren had brought Varian to keep her company in the wild hills. The cabin expanded to allow enough rooms for all the guests and as the fire crackled down the couples retired to their rooms, leaving you and Azriel alone for the first time in a long time. 

“Well, I better head to bed Az” You smiled softly at the Spymaster who looked like sleep evaded him. 

“Goodnight YNN- or sorry YN” he pushed the flush rising to his cheeks away. 

“It's okay Azills'' You found a small laugh leaving you at the nickname you never thought you’d hear again. Lucien came stomping out of the room the Cabin had given him and Elain, pillow and blanket in hand. 

“I have to sleep out here” he said sheepishly. 

“Lucien, take my room, I’ll sleep out here, I’m very comfortable” Azriel sprawled along the deep sofa, pulling a throw blanket down around him. Lucien nodded in thanks, swiftly exiting the room in his embarrassment.  You then gave Azriel a small wave before leaving him to cuddle into the couch. 

You stared up at the ceiling of the cabin for an hour or two, the last time you were here you and Azriel stayed awake the whole night worshipping one another's bodies. A small shiver ran down your spine at the warm memory. 

The sky then seemed to entirely crack and shatter open above, the heavy torrential rain making an attempt to come in the wooden roof above you. You swaddled yourself deeper into the sheets, protecting yourself from the eardrum-bursting sound. 

The lightning came then, cruel and unforgiving, making your veins feel alive. Lighting the whole bedroom before plunging it back into darkness, the electricity of the storm interfering with the power in the cabin, plunging the place into the dark. Thunder rattled the wooden walls, almost shaking you in the bed. You smiled at the feeling, loving storms so deeply for their unkempt uncontrollable nature. The air was thick with the electricity that coursed through it and then a thought came to you as fast as the lightning. A certain someone who hated storms with a burning passion, an irrational fear he was quite ashamed of was in the sitting room full of windows, alone. You rose from the bed, another crack of lightning hit, setting your adrenaline on fire and you loved the feeling so purely. 

“Hey Az?” you cautiously whispered in from the doorway of your room. 

“Y-yeah YN, are-are you okay?” he replied quickly, cursing his shaking voice. You thought about the proud male, quietly rattling in his make-shift bed and decided to be kind. 

“Az, I’m kind of scared, can you come in here?” you buried your lying smirk as you removed yourself from the doorway and lay back into the bed. The silence that followed had your mind racing, did you make the wrong call? Had you just embarrassed yourself for the sake of nothing, you could almost feel Azriel through the wall weighing up his options. Another boom of deafening thunder sent Azriel bolting across the living room, slamming to a stop on his heels in the doorway, trying to play his run off as easy breezy. You buried your grin under the duvet as he slipped into the bed below the sheet. 

“I’ll protect you” 

“My hero” you teased, he wrapped his heavy arms around you, pulling you into such a familiar position. You could hear his heart beating 120km/hr off his chest in erratic movement and you muffled your smile into him. 

“That’s what partn- it's what friends are for” he said into your hair, cursing his little slip-up internally. Lightning lit up the room again, Azriel gripping you to almost bone-crushing levels of pressure. You intertwined your legs with his, tracing a small circle along the base of his spine, calming him down under your touch. Azriel had missed being this close to you, missed your scent on his skin, your loving touch and he knew you loved storms, he knew this whole thing was to protect his ego. He didn’t mind, if this was his one and only chance to hold you again in his arms he’d take it. 

“YNN, I don’t think you cheated on me” he found the words slip from his voice into the comfortable silence. You looked up from his chest to meet his eyes. 

“I don’t think I did either Azills” you smirked and he returned the same.

“I’m serious YN, I should have trusted you more, I know I can trust you more…..would you consider giving me the opportunity to trust you more?”

“I don’t know Az” your voice betrayed your heart in favour of your head.

“I can prove I’m serious” he pulled away from you suddenly and you missed the heat and the shape of his body against yours. 

“What are you doing?” you half laughed, leaning up on one arm to watch him run out into the living area before you followed him confusedly. You watched him haphazardly throw on his shoes, and whip the front door open, the wild cruel wind blowing gail throughout the cabin. 

“Are you crazy?!” you almost shouted over the wind. 

“About us?! Yeah!” 

“Crazy and cheesy it would seem!” you laughed before he winked at you and ran off into the storm, you chased after him, stopping at the threshold of the door. 

“Azriel what the fuck come back!” you were shouting in a mix of hysterical laughing and absolute fear for him. 

“Do you believe me?!” The rain lashed off of his body, the wind threatening to whip under his wings and lift him to be lost to the sky forever. 

“Yes! Yes! Come back inside you freak!” your laugh rose over the lightning, lighting the path back to the house for Azriel. He bolted in fast from the storm, the bravery being seriously tested as the thunder bellowed. His soaking hand took yours, as he almost ran you back into your room. 

“You’re out of your mind Az” you looked at the drenched Illyrian with wind-burned cheeks and messy dark brown hair in knots on his head. He looked as wild and untamed as the storm but more of a mess, your mess. 

“YN, I know it will take more than storm chasing to prove it to you but please, let me prove it to you and I -”

“-Yes" you cut across him with the best word he had ever heard, he pulled you into his soaked body as you shrieked with the cold, but you couldn’t not laugh. Azriel's icy lips met your warmer ones and you missed one another in immeasurable amounts. Thunder rolled loudly again, causing Azriel to jump. 

“Come on storm chaser, you can protect me better from under the covers”

“It is my only job”

--------------------------------------------

Hehe, whatcha think?

[belovedivies]

Heyyy I love the killer Peter writing that you do it’s amazing🤩

Could I request relationship head canons for Peter like you did for Raphael but this time reader is an assassin like him

peter relationship headcanons

a/n: i'll be taking requests again now that i'm done with midterms (spoiler alert i got my ass beaten :3). this came out a little too long and specific for a hc but i plan to flesh this out on another oneshot- anw, enjoy anon!!! cw: minor spoiler, pre-canon, brief canon-typical cruelty wc: 1.26k m.list

IDEA

You met on neutral ground, mainly because his friend just wouldn’t shut up about this cute girl a few rooms down the hallway. You were three years older than Simon then, with a stature shorter than Peter himself.

Glory Club’s foundation is three things: violence, money, and ego. Assassins were pitched against each other on a daily basis, risking their lives to climb to the top where the Apostles rightfully resided. Where jealousy burnt red hot and became a driving force for success, the flame in you had long died out. Peter stared sometimes, and in your eyes, an ocean of arctic iciness stared right back.

He didn’t think much of it. He couldn’t begrudge anyone for it either. The paycheck was nice, and so was the control, the chokehold over others. Peter had and would play the part of an obedient puppet on strings to this organization as long as he drew breath, and as long it benefited them. Wouldn’t you do the same too? Downed a pill, cracked a skull, tossed and turned in a dusty corner later on because the dried blood felt so uncomfortably sticky on your nape, the scream of agony fresh on your mind. It wasn’t the nicest job out there, but it was for survival. A better cause. And Peter had thought about it rationally; he just owed that much to Father Gabriel.

It did get a little more complicated when you got roped in with them. Peter’s apathy had been evident while you stayed painfully austere, and Simon… was just trying his best to get both of you to talk. Five minutes in and a few hours after that afternoon, he couldn’t fathom why his comrade had thought it was a good idea for them to spar with not just a B-rank killer, but one whom neither of them had ever talked to.

OUTLINE

You really hated your job. Anyone would, at some point in their life.

Solo missions were a norm for Peter—things always worked out smoother and faster for the guy when he was on his own. On the rare occasion, he did get paired up with another person. Sometimes his fellow Apostles, the others a far too prideful assassin who chewed more than they could bite. But today there was you. And there wasn’t anything to go about besides a few surface-level exchanges and the silence in between. He couldn’t begrudge you. It’s only for survival.

A hit to the jugular and the job was done. Once out cold on the ground, the body wasn’t his responsibility anymore. Still, the boy watched with some amount of interest when you picked up the knife and poked around their insides. He left to light up a cigarette, took three brief puffs, and went back to the bedsheets covered in blood with the corpse nailed against the wall.

Sadism wasn’t intentional, but it was a running theme among the ranked Glory Club killers. The only collar made of metal and swine that bound them together by the neck. That you were so deep into the pit of insanity, you either shut off your emotions completely or learned to love the carnage.

Death reeked in every corner of the room, yet it was in you that Peter could tell the scent the clearest. You were there, so strangely out of the place, knees pulled tight against your chest. The look on your face was downright miserable.

When Peter made his way closer to inspect the scene, you tilted your head up to meet his face. The knife slipped, the moon shone, the rain tapered. Then you blinked, which was already so rare in itself. And Peter had blinked too, eyes widened, lips parted open just a fraction in surprise as tears welled up in your eyes. You sobbed and wept your dying heart out all the way until the cleanup crew showed up at the motel. One old lady, grey hair and croaked voice, held you in her arms. Months later when Peter finally asked again, he learned that it had hardly been the first. 

FIRST DRAFT

Just down the road, past the cut of dense trees leading to a lonely seashore, there was an orphanage tucked away from the hustle and bustle of Seoul. The kids always waved whenever Peter passed by during his morning run, a gesture that he had returned with equal warmth. Twice a week, the courtyard was lit up with colorful string lights and music, the mouth-watering scent of food wafting through the night air.

He had seen you outside of the Cathedral before, but not like this. The gentle fluorescents accentuated your features with a certain softness, like marshmallow, like the sea breeze carding through his hair. And you had talked, had smiled, had laughed along with them, had stared at Peter with eyes wide as saucers when one of the caregivers invited him in. You were in an apron with the children clung to your waist, vying for an ounce of your attention. It was a week after the mission and you two had rarely crossed paths. 

Peter wondered if you resented him for it; serving him a rather generous portion of seafood barbecue while dodging teasing comments from the kids through grinding teeth and knife-point smiles. But when your shoulders bumped against him on the bench, the tip of your right ear was burning red.

Simon ended up joining the week that followed, bringing more laughter to the shared space with his horrible singing and playfully flexing his swordsmanship. The edge of your smile grew softer and your shoulders more relaxed as you stuffed everyone’s plates with more food. Peter watched you through the rim of his cup with a tightness in his throat; you had only wanted to be normal. 

EDIT

“The kids are my rock.” You confessed a few months later when the ice wall between you and him finally melted. This late into the night, there wasn’t a wisp of cloud in the sky. The waves hit the shore every second, washing away the footsteps as Peter took a stroll with you along the beach.

You asked him about his dream. He didn’t know how to answer it. Taking away the cruelty and violence that made him the way he is today, what was left of the Apostle Peter? A caring brother to Simon and a good son to Father Gabriel. He might as well have been a husk before and a pretty face after, but there rarely had been anything in between for Peter to define himself. A label. A purpose.

Before he could say it, you gave his shoulder a gentle pat and chuckle, eyes glinting with mirth. “You’ll probably be a bookstore typa guy when you grow older.” And against all odds, the statement drew a chuckle from him too.

Maybe he would. Maybe if there was ever a disbandment order from the Cathedral and Peter had lived long enough to have a hunched back and a head full of grey hair, he would run a small bookstore on his own. Maybe the future Simon would drop by sometimes and tease him for his old-man look despite being older than Peter was.

Maybe the future you, still alive and kicking then, would also visit him, and the future Peter, older and wiser than he is right now, might have had the courage to ask you to stay.

But tonight, there was just the two of you. The moon hung high above the sky, the sea glistened with stars and mysticality. Peter watched as the white moonlight lined up the bridge of your nose and the curves of your cupid bow. The artificial heart inside your chest might not have a pulse, but his own did.

And it was very much beating for you.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 16 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: hello loves!! I can’t believe we’ve already come to the end of this series😭 thank you guys so so much for all the love you’ve sent my work and efforts!! Love y’all so much, enjoy reading- and stay tuned for my future fics 🤍🩷

W/C: 4.025

part fifteen

I sigh for the millionth time today, leaning back against the backrest of my chair. I rub my wrists, massaging my fingers and knuckles, groaning in relief when I hear some of them pop.

There were only a handful of matches left in the league, along with the Champions League final. The entire PR and marketing department had been working overtime for a couple days now, wanting to end the season on a high note.

I was so tired and stressed out, internally debating whether to call in sick tomorrow, but there was no way the team could finish all of this without my help.

Since my role in the department has gotten much more important this season, I needed to attend more meetings and calls with a lot of different people.

Never in my life, had I exercised my social skills this much, and it was only a matter of time before my social battery ran so low that I couldn't take interacting with people anymore, without looking like a total jerk.

Though, the generous paycheck that dropped into my back account every month, motivated me to work harder, well, sometimes..

I shift from my position, grabbing a single pen from its holder. Looking back up to my laptop to write down some refreshing and creative questions for the upcoming, very important and widely viewed interviews.

Winning both the national league and the Champions League in the exact same season would be absolutely insane to witness.

I had experienced the feeling in my first season working at the club. After almost three years of getting to know the team and the players who had come and gone, this year would feel even more special.

I had grown closer to the club, not just as an employee but as a supporter as well. I had multiple personal and dear connections with the club.

My father had just renewed his contract with the club. A topic that everyone working for respective companies joked about was the possibility of the agreement not being renewed.

After all these years, both companies had become synonymous with each other.

I had also gotten closer to my colleagues, much closer than I would've ever imagined. Starting this job as an eighteen-year-old, I was incredibly intimidated by the sheer size of the operations behind the scenes.

Of course, juggling both working here and studying for my law degree was hard at first. Work in the morning had switched to the evening when attending the matches.

Study breaks consisting of trying to figure out what interview questions were rubbish and needed to be scrapped, and packing my little suitcase for another trip, only to overpack again.

Thankfully, I had gotten all of my results back from this school year, and I was absolutely over the moon knowing I'd be going for my next year of my degree after summer break.

All my hard work had finally paid off when I saw my grades, and I had celebrated it that night- with working…

The biggest change in my life?

That was the fact that I had actually found love.

Going from hating each other to loving each other was a weird feeling. Even so, Jude and I had been together for almost six months now, and honestly speaking; I had never felt so loved by anyone in the entire world before.

We supported each other wholeheartedly, and it was definitely easier to do than other couples.

Mostly, because we worked together.

Living together for the first few weeks of our relationship, definitely sped up the process of actually getting to know each other. It bonded us faster than I would’ve ever expected.

Looking back, it's difficult to even imagine a world where Jude never moved into my place..

Jude had moved out of my house in the middle of March. He had changed houses following everything that had happened the last few months.

The new house is quite far away from the old, temporary house he lived in, that got broken into. The home was spacious and modern, just like I'd expected before visiting for the first time.

My father and his partners at his firm, had finally built up a proper case to take the intruder to court. I didn't know the specifics because, for some reason I wasn’t allowed to, by both my own father and Jude.

I already knew that the man who had caused so much chaos wasn't getting off the hook easily, and that was enough for me. Knowing any more details about the situation, would probably cause me more stress and anxiety, so I had just learnt to let it go.

I couldn't even lie, lately I had spent more time at Jude’s place than my own. There was something so comforting about it, maybe it was how inviting and cozy it felt.

His friends from England and Germany would always be over, for the simplest of reasons.

Playing games, both board and video ones, watching new movies in the unnecessary, huge cinema room. It created a very fun and friendly atmosphere and made me feel more comfortable than ever.

Jude’s parent’s presence, especially his mother’s- was very much appreciated. I loved chatting to her, from the most mundane things, to the things that I was worried about.

Just like the other women in my life, she gave me guidance and encouragement to keep on going and be even better at anything I wanted to accomplish.

Obviously, there was no way we could keep on hiding our relationship from certain teammates Jude was very close with. We'd decided to be open with them, because keeping a 'secret' from them wouldn't exactly give us peace of mind in the long run.

Scratching what I've written down so far, I drop my pen onto the desk. Glancing up at the clock to check the time, and gasping softly when I remember I have a meeting that starts in a minute.

I quickly grab the necessary paperwork, and dash out of the office. Into the meeting room, already full of my coworkers, sat waiting only for me..

"Okay, I'm really confused. Do I have something on my face? Like sauce from lunch or something?" The puzzled y/n asks, turning around in her office chair, only to glance at the busy Lina.

"Uh.." The older woman begins, looking up from her monitor and shaking her head.

"Nope, no sauce. Why?" Lina takes her hand off the computer mouse, sighing before leaning back.

"Everyone has been looking at me, like since- this morning.." y/n rolls her chair forward, holding out her foot, to stop herself from violently slamming into Lina's desk.

"You think? I thought it was because your dress looked cute.."

Lina smirks at her own words, her hand reaching over to grab her purple water bottle, swiftly taking the top off and chugging a couple gulps.

y/n scoffs, glancing down at the dress she's wearing. Yes, of course the dress is cute, that's why she wore it today. But the stares she got were definitely not in appreciation of the cream-colored dress.

"Are you serious? I don't think-"

She's cut off by a loud knock. Both women break eye contact, looking up at the glass doors where someone is standing in front of.

"Jude?" y/n perks up, standing up from her chair and making a beeline towards him. Ignoring the unnecessarily loud and teasing whistle leaving Lina's mouth.

Stepping outside, she furrows her brows, looking around for anyone who could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Follow me.." Jude can only say, immediately starting to walk down the stairs without sparing another second.

"What are you-" She trails off, sighing in defeat, before following him down, into one of the empty meditation rooms.

She looks at Jude as he locks the door behind them, his hand immediately reaching to wrap around her waist. He pulls her closer than ever, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Something wrong?" She asks, picking up on his stressed out demeanor. Pulling back, she scans his face once again.

"I have to show you something, but don't freak out, yeah? I called your dad already, and he said he'll see what he can do.."

This only sends her into a panic, his warning going over her head as she watches him pull his phone out of his pocket. Arms flexing underneath his training jacket as he moves.

She looks at him with a confused frown on her face, her eyes almost popping out of her head when Jude shows what was so important.

Grabbing the phone out of his hand without thinking, she brings the device closer to her face. A small noise of annoyance leaving her mouth.

It's all photos of the couple, outside during various times they had been on dates for the past- six months.

"This one's from Valencia, and this one's from that night in Mallorca?!" y/n exclaims, hands shaking as she tries to scroll through the other photos. All off guard pictures of them, taken while they were out together, after matches, and even on dates in Madrid.

Noticing how distressed the photos make his girlfriend, Jude grabs his phone out of her hand. Setting it down on the table next to him, he grabs onto her shoulders, making her look up at him.

"It's okay, we prepared for this, remember? I won't let my team put out a statement, apart from legal action. Your dad's handling it with my team, okay?" He brings her frazzled form into a reassuring hug, planting kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

Of course, just like her boyfriend explains- they knew their relationship couldn't be kept secret for much longer. Jude, being the high profile football player he is, couldn't exactly keep people from prying into his private life.

She knew that the media had caught a whiff of her, even back when they despised each other. The night at Wembley Stadium months ago, had caused a little commotion back then.

The gossip pages and newspapers loved a story containing love, a successful and beloved young man, and not to forget- her having actual connections to the club in both work, and her father's partnership with the club.

To the couple, when they entered the training center or the stadium, they would work at that particular day- it was about work and work only.

When they clocked in, they prioritized working. It would've obviously been very difficult for them to keep their relationship on the low- if they glanced at each other every damn second, while in the same room.

During working hours, they'd greet each other like their other colleagues, acting like they didn't make out the night before in his room.

Unavoidably, the players who knew about them dating, would try their best to sneak little jokes and teases in. The couple would successfully brush off the comments.

Practicing all these months made the perfect facade, but sometimes the jokes were too good not to chuckle, at least very discreetly.

"Okay, I trust you.." She mutters, pressing her face into her chest, a soft hum leaving her mouth. Thoughts and worries swirling through her mind.

"Baby! I'm ready!" I shout, almost falling flat on my face while pulling on my new heels.

These red bottoms were absolute hell to wear, especially since I had just gotten them as a gift, from Jude.

It would take some time before I could break them in, but with how stunning they looked paired with this dress, it was worth the pain, at least tonight.

To celebrate winning the league, Jude and I were finally going on a date. It had been a while since we had been on a proper date night, mostly due to how busy we both have been lately.

Jude with training and I with preparing everything, from interviews to social media posts, and even some press releases that needed to be out before the Champions League final that was in a couple days.

"I'm here.." I walk out of his bedroom, chuckling at the sheer amount of my clothes stuffed in his closet.

We had been staying over at each other's place on and off, but looking at both our closets, you'd think we'd been living together again.

Considering how important the past few weeks had been, Jude had been training a lot. I was especially worried about him and his health, mainly thinking of his shoulder injury.

His doctor and the team's physiotherapist had reassured me personally, but still, I could help but wince every time he touched his shoulder and grunted. Or seeing the multiple, pain-stopping injections, he had to take to play a full ninety minutes.

"You look handsome.." I mutter when reaching the front door, pressing a kiss onto his plump lips, my hands reaching to fix the collar of his button down. My lipgloss leaving a sheen of glitter on his lips, it making me chuckle as he gave me a dumbfounded look.

We’re fairly young, and early in our relationship, we realized that fancy dates weren't really our thing. But tonight was one of the few occasions we'd go all out, and dress up very nicely.

"You look absolutely stunning, love.." He smiles, his hand circling around my waist and down my back, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.

"Thank you, baby.." I hum, giving him a small wink. A loud chuckle leaves my lips as he attempts to wink back, though, just like every time, it looks like he's got something in his eyes, instead of being cheeky.

"What's so funny, hm?" Jude questions, hands trailing down to grip at my bum, squeezing slightly.

"Mhm, nothing.." I say, reaching up to fix his hair a little. "Should we leave? It's getting late.."

He agrees instantly, and I wrap my arm around his as we walk out of his house. The sun hadn't set yet, mostly because summer was coming soon, and I couldn't wait to enjoy the weather this year, yet again.

"Wait- I didn't grab my keys.." I gasp, eyes going wide as I watch him pull the door shut.

"Oh, you're definitely not driving missy, especially not in those heels.." Jude says, giving me a cheeky smile, and I can immediately sense that he is hiding something.

"You got your license?!" I beam, eyes glistening in happiness. Though, my excitement is cut short when he shakes his head, an embarrassed look on his face.

"No, I did not get my license.."

"Oh.." I say, the corners of my mouth twitching as I hold back a menacing laugh.

"So, you'll be my passenger prince forever?" I bring my hand up to grab onto his bicep, squeezing the muscles as my body leans against his.

"Will you ever stop saying that?" I watch his lips move, eyes glimmering when his lips pull into a slight pout.

"When you get your license, sir. I'll stop calling you my passenger prince..."

"I'm sure you would like a break from it then.." Jude says, his expression changing to a smug one within a split-second, and I follow his lead without thinking.

My uncomfortable heels click against the concrete as Jude leads me outside the gates of the house, a sleek black Rolls Royce parked right in front of the driveway.

"You got a driver for tonight?" I ask, eyes fixated on the, admittedly sexy car.

"Going all out for my lovey tonight. I've got to spoil my girl, always.."

I grin at his sweet words, warmth reaching my face, and I suddenly feel shyness creeping up on me. I shift my gaze for a second, avoiding eye contact with him and staring at the concrete.

"Aw, is my pretty girl shy now? You weren't like this a moment ago, huh?" A soft noise of protest leaves my mouth at the loving words. My breath hitching as he presses a kiss on my neck, right against my jugular.

"Come on, love. We'll be very late to our reservation if I keep you here longer.." Jude gives me a charming smile, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me towards the car, making me forget whatever my thoughts were before he'd made my heart flutter.

"I'm sweating literal buckets. I can't even breathe properly right now.." My eyes immediately shift to Luis, my right eye twitching, just like it has been on and off this entire day. The stress and anxiety of this all had been building up in us both, causing actual physical symptoms to show.

"Ask me about it, I went peeing two times already, and we're just seventy minutes into this match.." I say, wiping my sweaty hands down my black jeans. The laptop and phone on my lap shaking, as I bounce my knee up and down in anticipation.

My heart also leaped in my throat every time Jude got fouled. Checking the stats confirmed my suspicion, he currently is the most fouled player on the pitch.

I obviously knew it was a part of the game, but considering his injury- I couldn't help but be worried.

"Fuck, I swear if we score, I'm going to lose my shit." Luis says, running a hand through his curly hair, and I can almost feel the nerves radiating off of him.

Well, all 90.000 people in Wembley Stadium feel the exact same way right now. From supporters to chairmen of both respective clubs, sitting on the edge of their seats as we all watched the Champions League final between Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund unfold, live in front of our own two eyes.

My breath hitches in my throat as we're given a corner. The grip on my phone getting tighter as Luis glances at me.

"Okay, we got this, Toni's so experienced-"

"Shut up, I'm trying to focus.." I exclaim, grabbing onto Luis' shoulder to calm him down.

"You can't exactly focus with 90,000 people screaming.." He replies, glancing at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but decide to spare my breath, and stop breathing in anticipation.

Right, at that moment, Toni kicks the ball from the corner flag, it flies upwards as we watch both our players and Dortmund players scramble in front of the goal.

Finally, Dani jumps up and GOALLLL!!

The entire Madridista side jumps up in celebration, my devices almost slipping out of my hand and onto the floor as we jump up to cheer as loud as we can.

"I'm going to kiss Dani's forehead after this!" Luis screams, making me choke on my laughter. I hurry up and return my attention back to my devices, as happy as we were, we still had our job to do and execute.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down, before we both go back to doing our jobs.

Our wishes and prayers for a second goal aren't that far away, time-wise. Dortmund player Maatsen tries passing the ball, due to a wrong estimation, Jude gets the ball instead, shooting to Vini.

He goes on to score the second banger of the night. The stadium erupts in both cheers of happiness and screams of protest.

It's even louder than after the first goal, and we know it's only a matter of five minutes before our boys secure the victory over this season's Champions League..

y/n fixes her shirt for the nth time, trying to fidget with something before she loses her mind. Standing in the tunnel, she glances at Luis. Both of their eyes glimmering, as they wait for the families of the players to enter the pitch to celebrate the win.

They were insanely busy with handling their work, channelling their emotions into doing their job, to make sure it's all taken care of before they were done for the night. The automated system, consisting of already edited work, would take care of the rest from now on...

"Dude, what just happened?.." Luis whispers, glancing at the equally mesmerized girl next to him.

"We won!" She squeals, letting her excitement and happiness show as she hugs Luis. "Fuck, I don't even know what I would do if we lost. I'd actually be having a breakdown right now.."

Luis hugs her back, patting her head affectionately.

"You've worked very hard, y/n. Thank you for being my best friend and best colleague.." He says, giving her a brotherly smile.

"Thank you too, older brother.." She laughs, voice slightly teasing, as she pats his shoulder.

"Oh, I think we can join the celebrations.." He says, pointing to the families they’ve gotten very close with over the years.

The familiar faces joining their loved one on the pitch to celebrate this huge milestone in their careers.

"Come on.." Luis says, dragging her along and onto the pitch.

She looks around, a permanent smile plastered on her face as she's overwhelmed by the emotions running through her body.

"Dani!" Luis shouts, and y/n watches him run up to the goal scorer, just like his promise- Luis plants a fat kiss on the athlete's head.

y/n laughs loudly at the interaction, making eye contact with Dani’s wife, and laughing even harder at her confused expression.

She shakes her head at her best friend’s antics. Realizing she's alone now, she freezes. Cameras were absolutely everywhere at the moment, and she was absolutely sure at least one was pointed towards her.

The weeks following the photos of their dates being leaked were quite turbulent, with a lot of support, but also criticism- it was very difficult to ignore the reactions.

She wasn't anywhere close to wanting to be a public figure of some sort, so the attention was putting a lot of pressure on her.

But loving a star athlete, like Jude meant having to sacrifice some part of her privacy. If it meant she could run up to him now, and kiss his face a couple of times.

Then screw privacy, she'd throw that all away to get to him right now.

Her eyes darting to the rest of the enormous pitch again, frowning when she can't find the boy she's so desperately looking for.

Finally, after squinting a whole lot, and definitely causing damage to her eye muscles, she finally makes eye contact with the equally lost looking Jude.

He's standing in between both his parents, arms around them as he looks around wearily.

Jude's eyes immediately light up in relief when he spots y/n, mumbling something to his smiley parents before he makes a run for it.

Within seconds, he's by his girlfriend's side, and she jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist in greeting. He pulls her flush against him in a tight embrace. y/n cups his jaw tenderly to place multiple kisses on his face.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby.." She breathes out, cut off as he presses his lips onto hers, exhilarating kiss that makes them forget other people are around, and especially the hundreds of cameras and phones filming the pitch.

He catches her lips, plump lips sucking onto her bottom lip before they're forced to pull back for air. They pant, faces warm, and cheeks hurting from how much they'd smiled within the past couple minutes.

"I'm proud of you too, baby. Come on, you're my family too. Forget about work and the cameras here for me, yeah?”

She plants her shoes back onto the grass when he lowers back on the floor. She looks down as he grabs onto her hand. Playing with her fingers as he makes eye contact with her.

Reaching up, she swipes at a piece of grass stuck on his temple, probably from being fouled earlier, she chuckles at the sight, biting her lip.

“Come on, then. Your parents are waiting..” She says, turning and dragging him along the pitch. Skipping towards his awaiting, happy parents. Who look at them with an infinite amount of joy and proudness in their eyes.

“He’s a winner! Jude’s our winner!!”

[bweeeb]

TENNIS CLASSES

Art Donaldson x Reader

Notes: Age difference (Art is 29/31 and Y/n is 19), Dirty content, Smut, P in v and whatever...

Notes: This writing was very messy and I apologize for that.

Summary: When Tashi convinces Art to continue in the tennis business, he agrees to teach Y/n Adams, but he didn't know that the 19-year-old girl would be such a problem for him.

Art Donaldson thought the house he lived in was fancy, but when he arrived at the Adams' residence, he almost thought he'd stopped at the wrong place. The house was surreal. As he stepped out of the car, looking for the entrance, the front door was opened by Y/n, wearing an extremely short white skirt and a Nike sweatshirt in the same shade.

To Y/n, the skirt looked normal, but it was definitely the first thing Art noticed about the new student. — Hey, sorry for the visual confusion this place is. My mom loves trees around the house. Not that she likes dealing with dirt, because she hates it, but you get me. — Y/n said while descending the stairs with a gentle smile for the man, who smiled back.

— Nice to meet you, Art. I'm Y/n.

— Hi, sure, I'm happy to be here. — He said, grabbing the hand she had extended as a greeting. Art didn't know how many times he repeated in his head how soft her hand was.

— My parents are out for a while, but if they were here, they'd show you around. Since they're not, you've got me, so... I can show you the court out back if you want.

— The house is pretty cool. I'm curious to see the back. — Art said, looking at Y/n who was ahead of him, and it was almost inevitable for him not to check her out entirely when she turned to walk.

— So, how much tennis do you know? — He asked as Y/n stopped and opened the door leading them to the back of the house.

— Not much. My dad likes to play, so I learned a thing or two, but you know how it is.

— If he knows, why doesn't he teach you?

— Well, he wants me to learn from the best. — She said, glancing sideways at Art who chuckled as they passed by the pool and walked towards the tennis court.

— I think that's flattery. — He said and Y/n laughed.

— No, come on, I saw your last match, it was insanely good.

— Well, I... thank you. — Art nodded, a brief memory of Patrick's gesture before serving the ball flashing in his mind. He and Tashi had fought many times after that match, and even though he loved tennis, he didn't want to compete anymore. That irritated Tashi, so as a solution, she convinced Donaldson to at least continue practicing what he loved most, and she convinced him by arranging private lessons for Y/n Adams.

— So, where do we start? — Y/n asked, snapping Art out of his thoughts.

— Let's start by watching you play, then I can try to help you with any mistakes. — He said, and Y/n complied, grabbing her racket, taking off her sweatshirt and cap, and most importantly, capturing Art Donaldson's attention when her serve was practically perfect.

— Lower your elbow a bit and aim lower. — Art said, unfolding his arms and moving closer to the girl.

— Here. — He said softly, standing behind her.

— Position your feet better. — Art placed one hand on Y/n's waist and the other on her right arm.

— This way, you'll hit it perfectly. But you did well. — The blonde said, and Y/n looked up at him behind her and smiled in agreement.

— Alright, coach. — She would be a big problem for Art.

A month had passed since Art and Y/n started training together, and it was almost undeniable to Art that he noticed Y/n flirting with him naturally and spontaneously. Art reciprocated without any guilt. Tashi had no position to be mad about it, she had ruined their marriage before.

— I think that's it for today. You're good, Y/n. You impressed me a lot. — Art complimented Y/n, who was too distracted looking at him. Art was wearing a black Adidas T-shirt, black shorts, and a white cap worn backward, and Y/n had lost count of how many times she'd lost her breath looking at him.

— What? Sorry, what? — Y/n asked while laughing awkwardly. Art, on the other hand, smiled and bit his lower lip as he leaned against the fence behind him.

— Something distracting you? — He asked, and Y/n smiled at him, rolling her eyes and leaving the court with his eyes fixed on her and the tiny red skirt she was wearing.

— Are you going to stay there or can I leave you on the court? — Y/n shouted, and Art grabbed his tennis bag and ran after the younger girl, who slowed her pace for Donaldson to walk beside her. The sun was setting, and as they entered the house, Mr. and Mrs. Adams were coming down the stairs.

— All done? — Y/n's mother asked, looking in the mirror and smiling at the two of them.

— Art, how's my player doing? — Mr. Adams said, giving Art two pats on the back.

— She's been playing well, much better than many of my friends who played at Stanford. — Art said, and Y/n smiled, taking off her shoes on the sofa near the entrance.

— Be careful, because this girl is not modest at all, my friend. — Y/n's father said, and the girl opened her mouth in shock.

— I am modest!

— Yes, you are. — Her mother agreed with Y/n, giving her a kiss on the head, and she smiled, picking up her shoes from the floor.

— Art, it was great to see you, but now we're leaving, dear, or we'll be late. Bye, guys. — The two left the house, leaving Art and Y/n at the entrance, looking at the door.

— So... I think I should go...

— Do you want something to drink? Water, coffee, wine, beer? — Y/n turned quickly to look at Art, who laughed and adjusted his cap on his head.

— I don't want to intrude; you probably have more things to do...

— I don't, actually. I was going to the pool, you know? It helps relax the muscles after playing. — Y/n said, approaching the man.

— If you want to join me. — She offered, stepping up a stair and leaning on the railing, looking at him with puppy eyes.

— Uhm, I don't know if it's a good idea, it's late and you know... — Art cleared his throat and squinted, thinking of the right words — I don't know, you know, there's Tashi and...

— Shit. Shit, you're married, and I forgot about that. Right, don't worry, you... Y/n closed her eyes momentarily, remembering the existence of his family.

— But I think she wouldn't mind, it's just tennis, right? Art said, taking a step towards the stairs, and when Y/n opened her eyes, he was already closer than she imagined he would be.

— If you don't want to stay, it's okay... I just...

— It's important to relax after a game, and you need to learn that. I'm your coach, and I can help you, Y/n. — Art said, touching the girl's forearm, who smiled and nodded.

— Okay then, I can get my brother's swim shorts if you want. — She suggested, and the man agreed without thinking much, he just wanted to follow her and not be alone down there.

The two went upstairs while Art followed Y/n like a puppy. It was almost humiliating for him because if she asked, he would do anything she wanted. Y/n grabbed a pair of swim shorts for Art and went to her room.

— I'll change quickly, but you can stay here; I'll be right back. — Y/n said, and Art agreed, sitting on the edge of her bed and watching her enter the closet without doors. Y/n made a move inside, and her figure's reflection appeared in the mirror in front of the bed. Y/n took off her tennis clothes, that skirt Art wanted to take off so badly, and her underwear, and at that moment, Art shifted on the bed, feeling his cock getting hard.

— You can change there if you want, you can't see anything from here. — She shouted, and Art got up from the bed without taking his eyes off her.

— From here, you can see a lot. — He murmured while taking off his shorts, trying to adjust his length that wanted to jump out of his underwear.

— Damn. — Donaldson put on the black shorts and heard the girl again.

— So, you went to Stanford, right? — She didn't want to make the atmosphere awkward.

— Yeah, I did, and you? Are you in college? — He asked.

— I'm studying at Columbia. You know.

The brief conversation was the right amount of time for Y/n to come out of the closet wearing a black strapless bikini on top, and there was Art again, almost falling to the ground with the weight his cock was becoming.

— That's... that's cool, yeah.

He said, following her downstairs again, ignoring the fact that he shouldn't notice how her ass bounced with every step she took ahead of him.

Both walked to the pool, chatting about college and life until they entered the pool and kept staring at each other.

— So... feeling better? — Art asked as he approached the girl, who smiled at him.

— I don't know; my coach should teach me how to relax. — She said, and Art laughed. He murmured a small "okay" and brought his hands to her waist, pulling her further from the pool's edges.

— Is your wife okay with this? You touching another woman? — Y/n asked provocatively, and with a harsh movement, Art pulled her close to his body, making her feel his hard erection against her ass.

— She cheats on me with my best friend; she doesn't care at all.

— Damn, sorry, but she's really dumb. When the words left Y/n's mouth, Art laughed genuinely and brought one hand to her neck.

— Relax... — He said as his hand traveled down her body, passing over her breasts, her belly, and stopping at the waistband of her bikini bottom. When Y/n started grinding against his hard cock, Art lowered his hand and touched her sensitive spot.

— Damn, you're so wet. — Art said, moving his fingers inside her while bringing his other hand to her already bare chest. In a desperate move, Y/n turned her body and wrapped her legs around Art's waist, kissing him hard. Art's erection brushed against the girl's clit, and suddenly both were naked in the pool.

— Fuck me, please. — Y/n moaned against Art's mouth, who squeezed her ass hard. He and Tashi hadn't had physical contact in a long time, he could say he wasn't attracted to Tashi at all anymore, not after this.

— Damn, you're so hot. — Art said, attacking her neck and positioning himself at her entrance.

— Art, please. — As she begged, Art slid inside her and looked into Y/n's eyes for confirmation that everything was okay. When he received that confirmation, both of Art's hands fell on her ass, lifting her up and down on his cock. With not-so-fast thrusts, Art then picked up her body and turned her towards the pool's edge, making her bend over.

— Fuck, Art. — She moaned, and Art increased the speed inside her.

— Are you going to cum, baby? Uhm. Art asked as he moaned and continued thrusting deep into Y/n.— Are you going to cum for me? I'm going to cum too.

— Yeah? Cum in me Art, please.

— I'm going to cum inside that tight pussy, damn, so good, I've wanted to do this for so long. Art said and with a few more sloppy thrusts they both came.

— Cum. Y/n moaned and her body fell against Art's chest, who hugged her right after they both reached their peak. —That was good. — She whispered and he nodded in agreement behind her. The comfortable silence between the two ended when the front door slammed, both of their eyes widened.

Art thought about getting out of the pool but Y/n refused. Head quickly. They would see art naked if he decided to stand up. — Get down, below me. Get down. She said and Art lowered himself beneath her, with his head right between her legs, she smiled under the water and slowly came up for air for the last time. Y/n looked at the figure of her mother coming towards her and did her best to hide her nakedness.

— The restaurant went wrong, your father is irritated, I'm going to bed okay, dear. Her mother said just a few steps from the pool.

— What a shame, good night THEN. Y/n's tone unintentionally increased when Art stuck a finger into her.

— Are you well? It's getting late, don't stay there too long.

— Of course, I'll be right out. When he was about to leave the area she came back with Art's fingers in her pussy.

— Art left much later than us? Such a good man, it's a shame he's old for you, right, love. She said and Y/n just agreed, we received a strange look from her mother.

— Ok, good night. As soon as she left Y/n opened the clinic he was ecstatic and threw his forehead against the edge of the pool. Art's head shot up again and a mischievous look came with it. — This wasn’t fair. She complained and Art grabbed her waist, sat her down outside the pool, spread her legs and buried his face in them, sucking her like she was ice cream. — Art, my parents…my parents can see. Oh. She moaned as Art ran his tongue over her swollen clitoris. — uhm, right there. She moaned, taking her hands to his blonde hair, forcing him for more. — fuck, Art. That's it, uhm. She moaned softly and aart inserted two more fingers into her before she came once again.

— You are my sin, Y/n Adams. He said looking at her before getting out of the pool, grabbing a towel and keeping her out of the cold of the night. — I think I have to go.

— You come back?

— We still have class tomorrow, right?

Art knew that from now on he would need her like he needed air to breathe, Y/n Adams would be his biggest problem and he already knew that.

>>>>>>>

Requests are open ✨

[hencheri]

stalker/perv ten but reader finds him a cutie patootie instead of getting scared 🤓

18+. mdni.

warning: stalking, dubcon.

a.n.: at first i wasn't sure where to go with this.. but i really like it!? hope you do, too <3

.

he always has a black hoodie over his head, hands in pockets and gaze low on the pavement. he follows you each night to your apartment. without a doubt, he's behind you, silently walking at a steady step.

you don't know who he is since you've never seen his face. you've wondered a few times what he looks like, and even thought about discovering it for yourself, but you never did. never had the balls.

until today.

you don't know why, but you've decided to speed up your steps. maybe to see if he would keep up, and to no surprise, he did.

usually, he never enters your apartment building. he always stops there and watches you from a couple of feet away. but today, just before turning the corner, you do a 180 and face him.

he's taken aback, taking a few steps backwards. his eyes are hidden under his hood, but you can decipher the outline of a big nose, lips sealed in a straight line.

"who are you? what do you want?" you immediately ask, not taking your eyes off of him.

you've been scared of him at the beginning, but as the nights passed, you've overcome the fear. he felt like a part of your routine in a weird way.

this time, he looks like the one scared of you, stepping backwards until his back meets the fence surrounding your apartment building. you move up and you can see under his hood, his eyes avoiding yours.

he doesn't answer so you rapidly reach up and snatch his hoodie off of his head. he can't hide anymore, so he has no other choice than to finally look at you.

sweet brown eyes stare back at you, fluffy bangs brushing his forehead. the mysterious man who obsessively follows you each night is... pretty.

"i'm sorry." he seems so embarrassed, and it endears you. you can't help but feel some pity for him. he's clearly harmless, and it shows even more now that he doesn't dare to do anything.

"answer me. who are you?" you repeat with a stern voice this time.

his cheeks are flushed red, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows down. you notice his hands moving inside the pocket of his hoodie, and with no response from him, you decide to grab his wrist, pulling his phone out.

you steal it from his hand, a small protest coming out of his mouth, but he shuts up immediately when you shoot him a glare.

his phone was already opened as he was on the app camera. the picture at the bottom catches your attention and you click on it without thinking twice.

you discover plenty of videos and photos of yourself taken from afar. the majority are just you walking back home with your outside clothes on, but some of them are extremely perverted.

you see yourself in bikinis from pics you've posted on instagram, others where the focus is on specific parts of your body like your thighs and breasts — most of them taken at school — and the most disturbing pictures; you changing through your bedroom's window.

you raise your eyebrows, astonished to see such a behaviour coming from a cute guy like him. you don't even know him and he has a whole album about you.

you scoff, looking up at him, "so, that's what you want?" you ask.

his eyes widen, still very much flustered. "huh, n-no... i-" he stutters out, shaking his head, unable to align any words that make sense.

"you want to fuck me? is that it?"

he stares at you blankly when hearing your question, a few seconds pass where you wait for him to say something, but you think you guessed just right with the shy nod he gives you after.

he of course doesn't complain when you drag him inside of your apartment, the first thing you do is pulling his pants down and taking his cock in your mouth.

his hands grab your hair, small moans escaping his pretty pink lips, his hair going into his eyes as he watches you sucking him off. you know you might be a little insane for inviting your stalker into your home, but that makes two of you now, right?

he's literally amazed by the scene happening in front of him, fingers pulling on your hair, not wanting you to stop for one second. you're surprised when he takes control, snapping his hips against your face, his balls slapping your chin.

you inevitably choke around him, and he loves it, groaning above you. you try to endure it, but you rapidly have to tap his thigh for him to stop, to give you a breath of air.

but he doesn't and instead ignores you, continuing his assault on your mouth. his grip on your hair is painful and makes your scalp sting, using his hold on you to move your head how he wants.

you're whining around him and it sends delicious vibrations throughout his body, thighs shaking as he's closer and closer to his orgasm.

when he pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your lips, he furiously tugs on his cock.

"f-fuck, fuck," he curses out before painting your face in his white cum, thick ropes landing on your cheeks.

you look like a mess, the most beautiful he's ever seen you, and he takes out his phone to capture the moment. he wants it forever engraved in his mind.

he never thought you would ever offer him this, but he definitely will seek more now that he knows you're as fucked up as he is.

[zenathezee]

Being able to go to my boss and say "the difference between me happy to work here until I go to grad school and wanting to quit everyday is this one thing" and have her be like yeah that's fair is SO POWERFUL

[allfearstofallto]

What would Yuri (your yandere bulter OC) do if his lady had an arranged marriege and was meeting the person she was arranged to marry with?

(Y'all make me so happy I could die!! I've been unironically imagining this scenerio for months!!!)

Yandere! Male OC x Reader

“You're much too young to be wed,” Yuri whined softly as his cold finger tips helped you latch the clip of your necklace. A beautiful, pink gem nestled in the center of the neckware drew attention to your bare collar bone, the radiant skin of your chest, and the lovely smile you had just above it. Yet another piece of jewelry your mother had sent you from her travels, she had such a taste for things you liked, despite hardly being around.

You merely scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes in the tandum. While he tied your hair up, you dusted yourself with perfumed powder, staring at yourself the entire time, “You must be insane, Yuri. I'm actually past the average marrying age.”

That much was true. Girls of your status typically married much much younger, usually right after coming of age. Even you yourself received many letters begging for a chance to meet after your debutante, which Yuri would swiftly burn in your fire place when you expressed your distate. You had things holding you back. You longed for schooling, travel, and a the freedom of being young and not tied down. Both your father and Yuri took this news excitedly and never pushed for you to get wed. They both even excitedly told you that you'd never have to leave the manor and if you so pleased, you'd be pampered for the rest of your life.

It sounded nice in theory, living off of your fathers wealth and being a bachelorette until the day you died, but many women at your tea parties were talking about their prospects, fiances, and even their husbands, and suddenly you felt as if you could no longer relate anymore. And the even more harsh realization hit you, that you were lonely. You'd sit quietly at the table, sipping your tea nervously and realizing that maybe it was time for you to begin viewing romance in a different light, not as a hindrance chaining you down, but a new beginning in life.

Your father was expectedly saddened by your announcement and Yuri…well, Yuri’s expression was hard to read. He stood silently for a bit, his lips formed in a tight line, eyebrows starting to furrow a bit behind his thick, round glasses. It was a face you'd never seen him make before, him typically preferring laid back or soft expression.

“You can't actually be serious, my lady,” Yuri forced himself to not sound more hurt than he actually was, but if you listened closely, you could hear his voice tremble, “You always said you'd stay in the manor forever.”

You glanced at yourself once over again in your full body mirror, feeling shy and almost slightly over dressed in the gown you chose. It was such a strange feeling, the way your heart was thumping in your chest, and you couldn't tell if it was excitement or nerves. You could see Yuri behind you in your reflection, a frown still formed on his lips.

“I said that when I was eight! You can't trust the words of a child,”

Yuri sighed again, pushing his snow, white hair out of his face in a sign of stress. A stress reflex that you seldom saw him do. Yuri was a man that was so calm and composed, yet today he was showing so much anxiety. And for what, you'd didn't know.

“Then what of me? This man you're meeting, he's the Duke two cities over. I am here to serve you, my lady, won't I go with you?”

“I'd hate to uproot your life, Yuri,” you began with a sad tone. You couldn't fathom the idea that he could look any sadder, yet as you spoke, his face fell even farther, “B-but mother will be home shortly! She sent a letter saying that it will only be a few more weeks, you could still stay in the manor and tend to her instead.”

Your suggestion is met with a shallow, solemn shake of his head, “You are my life, my lady. I wish to serve no one else.”

[holdinbacksecrets]

Hi! Can you please write BTS version of the voicemails they will send hinting their feelings? Thank you 😊

thank you for requesting 🖤

voicemails from bts, hinting feelings

namjoon: “i was in a bookstore the other day and started to imagine a book you wrote being on the shelves someday. everything you do, down to the indentation of your steps, leaves behind a story. do you remember your birthday two years ago? you drank one glass too many, and it’s like the fiction unleashed. i recorded a voice memo, but i never played it for you. i want to.”

jin: “are you scared? this morning you sounded really scared on the phone. i’m sorry i didn’t say more or say enough. i was caught off guard because you’ve never showed me scared before, not like that. i’ve seen your apprehension. i’ve seen your insecure. i’ve seen your anxiety, but this was consuming fear. i’m making dinner, and i feel like you probably haven’t eaten today… if your anxiety gives anything away about your scared. come over when you’re off. i’ll greet you with a hug and bowl of soup. or two bowls. i have cheese and bread too. the good bread. the loaf you turned me on to.”

yoongi: “you used the notes app on my phone to write out your grocery list, and i’m amused. it sounds like you’re having a conversation with yourself: right now, i want rice crispies, but i’ll probably change my mind once i’m in the cereal aisle. trust your gut, or get two boxes. you’re 26. no one is stopping you. oh! get some apple juice too. i keep having dreams about twelve year old me at a friend’s house. we’d sit at the kitchen island after school with graham crackers and apple juice, and i miss her. i miss those simple conversations. you’re so pure and magnetic. sometimes i wonder where you came from, but then i’m just glad you made it here—tumbled into my life because you did tumble. you’ve always made the story sound too elegant. the tumble was charming, i promise.”

hoseok: “you’ve been sharing recipes with me, or i guess i should say the final product of your recipes has been shared with me, repeatedly, and now i’m starting to wait for the knock on my door or the ring of a text. is that bad? i wouldn’t want you to ever think i’m demanding treats, but i love… i love the time we spend together when you bring them over, and your eyes sparkle when my expression changes because of how good everything always tastes… i love that too.”

jimin: “did you say everything you needed to yesterday? i swear your lips parted and you leaned in so many times to never say anything. i know it was a busy place, and it’s not that fun sitting at a table for twelve. but i was ready to listen. i’ll be ready at 2 am too. whatever you need. there’s something to this, right? to the ease of our conversations. you trust me?”

taehyung: “do you want to sculpt clay with me? i bought a whole bag and a bunch of tools. i thought about booking a private lesson, but i wanted my record player and access to a kitchen and the ability to get my hands dirty whenever i want to—need it. do you need it too? if not, keep me company while i try to make something?”

jungkook: “can i pick you up today? this is going to sound ridiculous, but your smell used to linger in my car, and i can’t quite make out the notes of your perfume anymore. i can imagine them, but they don’t meet me when i open the door… i can’t leave this as a voicemail on your phone. can i leave this as a voicemail on your phone? i sound insane.”

bonus: “i’m calling to tell you i’m proud of you. sometimes when we were kids, i used to think our dreams wouldn’t make it higher than the trees. i thought they’d get caught in the leaves, die on branches come winter, but look at us. look at you. you’re incredible. we did it.”

[bchan95]

Shock and Awe (Bang Chan x Y/N)

Based on this performance video I saw on Twitter bc... yeah. Slightly suggestive... but nothing too wild.

You watched with wide eyes, gazing at the gruff performance that he was giving on the stage. Every movement was messy, but he looked so self-assured. His normally warm facial expressions peeled from his face, ripping that beautiful smile away and leaving in its place, a firm brow and an angry, open mouth.

It had been a long time since you had seen him this fired up during a performance. He was so in his element that he’d probably need to take a few minutes after the performance to breathe and remember exactly where he was. You tried to meet his eyes, but you knew every attempt would fail as he was too into the moment.

You kept that smile on your face as you watched him tear up the stage for the rest of the song. His fans screamed and cried out as they watched the whole group jump up and down singing their hearts out. But your gaze never left him.

The way his dark eyes filled with passion, the way his skin shone with sweat dripping down it under the heavy lights… it was amazing that he was still standing at this point. You were drenched sitting in this hot room and you haven’t made a move in an hour.

As the final moments of the stage disappeared, you watched as Chan took his place in the back of the formation, panting heavily as he held up his signature pose, stoic for a moment. Within seconds that smile spread across his face again and he ran off stage as if your heart hadn’t been beating at two-times speed watching him.

You shook your head, tearing your gaze from the stage to look down at your water glass and take a sip as you gained your bearings. You knew you’d have to leave as soon as you came, with the kids jet-setting to another schedule before the show even ended. You gave them a breather of around 15 minutes before one of your staffers came over and tapped you on the shoulder.

You knew the routine. Keep yours and Chan’s profile low as long as you can to not rile up the fans until you can’t anymore. Every sneaky car ride, private plane, and scheduled driver was worth ending up in his arms though. So, you grabbed the bottom of your dress, gripping it above your shoes and making a hasty exit without another word.

You stopped by your dressing room to take off the floor-length dress and slip into something more comfortable, pulling your hair up into a ponytail in an attempt to cool yourself down.

As you slipped into the sleek black car, you took a deep breath, letting the air conditioning kiss your face as you leaned back into your seat. A soft cough caused you to re-open your eyes in a panic. You turned to your left and were met by that bright white grin again. You roll your eyes as you feel his hand grab yours.

“You’re insane Christopher,” you start with a soft giggle leaving your lips. “Anyone could have seen you.”

He lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to it. Your nerves slightly left as that knowing smirk pulled the right side of his mouth.

“That’s part of the fun,” he said, a husky tone overtaking his voice. Proving that he most definitely strained his vocal cords with the intensity that he brought to today’s performance. “Plus, these windows are tinted anyway…”

He continued to press kisses up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their path, until he reached your neck. His plush lips met the base of your neck with two open-mouth, wet kisses. Your hand pressed forward, pushing his chest back.

“Do not… get any ideas,” You laugh loudly at your boyfriend’s eagerness. The driver was very clearly still in the front of the car. There was no way you were letting this move any more forward than it already has. “You’re already testing your limits Bang.”

He seemed to ignore your hesitation, pulling himself back into you and bringing softer kisses back to the top of your neck near your ear. He wasn’t going to make this easy. You could hear his smile form again as he leaned in even more to whisper in your ear.

“You know… I could see you watching me tonight…” He started, giggling to himself before continuing that thought. “I feel like you want this even more than me.”

Your blush poured across your cheeks. Thank god for the darkness of your surroundings right now because you would have definitely given yourself away. He’s not wrong. From the moment you saw that homemade jagged hem of his makeshift crop top as the lights brought him into focus, you knew you were screwed. It was only made worse by the almost barbaric energy that he brought to his movement.

But you were a woman of your word. You told him from the beginning of your relationship that you weren’t comfortable with PDA in public. Not yet at least. Even if the "public" spaces were made as private as they could be. You saw boy group members torn to shreds for being seen with a woman before. Campaigns lead against them forcing them to leave the only career they’ve ever known.

You knew your fans would be disgruntled too, but you were far more concerned about Chan. You knew how much he’d always wanted this. All of that training, all of those late nights in the studio… he’s put in too much to have it all taken away for a kiss. A hand-holding scandal. A public relationship.

You sighed quietly to remind yourself of the gravity of your current situation before pushing him away again. You turned yourself toward him and softly touched his cheek with a soft smile. He watched you with wide eyes as your thumb swept left and right. You leaned forward and pressed a short kiss to his lips.

“You’re not wrong, but you need to be careful,” you pressed another peck. “I care about you too much to let my lustful want for you cloud my judgment.”

He let out a sigh and reached out for your hips “I’d give it all up for you.”

You rolled your eyes “You better not.”

He raised his eyebrow in a challenging fashion. His face leaned into yours and the force of his neck kiss pushed you back up against the car door. Your eyes widened as you watched his pupils dilate as he rose up above you.

“Don’t… say that again.”

You nod silently, your hand reaching out to him again. You felt his breathing calm and you lifted yourself up to kiss him.

“You know what I meant baby,” you said before chewing on your bottom lip. “I want you… you know that. Just not here. I promise.”

He nodded, falling back into his seat. You smiled to yourself, thinking about your boyfriend’s intense reaction to a simple denial of a kiss. The smile widens as you hear him huff again.

You look over at him and although he may be looking out the window and keeping his distance, you look down to see his hand in yours. His thumb rubbing circles on the side of your palm as you drive. His compromise it seems as you push forward into the night sky.

[0810hts]

thank you || p.gw

pairing: Park Gunwook x fem!Reader

genre: fluff, angst, academic rivals to lovers

warnings:school stress, crying, abusive parents, fight, kisses, (if I missed something, pls let me know)

word count: 1.1k+

(a/n: Not me writing this when I should actually be doing my Spanish presentation for tomorrow 🥹. Also, English is not my first language so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes and this is my first ever completed story so yay !!)

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Today was the day. The day you’d get one of the most important grades of your life. You made a deal with your parents: if you ranked first, you’d finally be allowed to go on the school trip. Normally, you’d be the top student—always. But recently, Park Gunwook had been fighting for that spot. One day it was you, the next day him, then you again, then him... the endless back-and-forth was driving you insane.

Because of this stupid competition, your parents banned you from seeing friends, canceled your evening lessons, and forced you to study non-stop. They’d always pushed you to be the best, ever since you were a kid. The second you stepped into elementary school, your childhood vanished.

This deal, this one chance to finally escape, was your only hope. The school trip to Jeju Island—just you, your classmates, and the teachers—was all you could think about. But now, you were sitting at your desk, heart racing, as the teacher passed out the graded papers.

"Good job, L/N Y/N," your teacher said.

Your eyes darted to the score—99%. A smile briefly crossed your face, only to vanish when you saw the ranking: second place. Your stomach sank. You didn’t even have to guess who came in first.

"Congrats to Park Gunwook for first place, L/N Y/N for second, and Asakura Jo for third. Remember, we meet at 8 AM Sunday at the airport," your teacher announced, but you weren’t listening anymore.

You buried your face behind the paper, trying desperately to hold back the tears, but failing. That’s when you heard it.

"Good job, Y/N. Looks like I beat you this time," Gunwook said, his voice light, almost teasing, until he noticed something was off. "Hey… are you okay? What’s wrong?"

Before he could say more, you bolted out of your seat and ran. Gunwook’s voice called after you, but you didn’t look back. He asked Woonhak, your friend, what was going on.

"It’s not you, man," Woonhak explained. "Her parents… they made her promise that if she wasn’t first, she couldn’t go on the trip. Now that she’s second, she’s probably going to be locked up studying until she’s number one again."

Gunwook was stunned. What he thought was just friendly competition meant everything to you.

---------------

Back home, the yelling began.

"We made an agreement!" your father shouted. "Looks like you didn’t want to go after all, coming home with that grade! Did Gunwook beat you again?"

"Yes..." you muttered, staring at the floor.

"Then it’s settled. No trip. You’ll spend the week locked in your room, studying like you should have been all along. Maybe then we’ll get our top student back," your father sneered, throwing your paper into the trash like it was worthless. And with it, your heart shattered into pieces.

"Yes, father..." you whispered, retreating to your room. You locked the door and collapsed onto your bed, tears flowing freely.

---------------

"And who are you?" your father asked, glaring at the boy standing in front of him.

"Park Gunwook, sir."

"Ah, the boy my failure of a daughter keeps losing to. What do you want?"

"I came to talk about her missing the Jeju trip. Just because she came second… it’s not fair—"

"Fair?" your mother interrupted, stepping into view. "We had a deal. She failed. End of discussion."

Gunwook’s eyes burned with frustration. "But second place is incredible. She works so hard, more than anyone. She’s the school president, always helping others, and everyone adores her—even the teachers. Furthermore, she deserves to go. It’s her last field trip before she graduates."

"She lost. There’s nothing else to say," your father growled, about to slam the door shut when you appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Gunwook?" you whispered, shock and confusion in your voice.

"Y/N..." he said softly, unsure of what to do.

You walked past your parents and stood before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friend here thinks you should go to Jeju. But it’s not happening," your father spat.

You gave Gunwook a sad, tired smile. "It’s okay. I made a promise, and I lost. You didn’t have to come."

"But Y/N—"

"Really, it’s fine," you insisted, your voice quiet and resigned, before turning and heading back inside.

Gunwook stood there, helpless. He knew there was no convincing you, not with your parents looming behind you.

"Now get out and don’t come back," your father snarled, slamming the door in Gunwook’s face.

Gunwook stood there for a moment, guilt and regret gnawing at him. He was about to leave when he heard it: the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

He sprinted back to the door and knocked frantically, calling the police as he did. When the door opened, there you were—a sobbing mess, a cut on your cheek, terrified.

You threw yourself into his arms, trembling, as he shielded you from the sight of your father, who was raging, a beer bottle in his hand.

"COME BACK HERE, Y/N!" your father roared as your mother weakly tried to calm him down.

"Don’t you dare take another step. The police are already on their way," Gunwook warned, standing between you and your father.

---------------

Your parents were taken to jail, awaiting their court date. After the police finished questioning you and Gunwook, you were finally free to leave the station, suitcase in hand, unsure of where to go.

"Come stay at my place," Gunwook suddenly offered, breaking the tense silence.

You blinked in surprise. "No, I couldn’t—"

"I won’t let you be alone. You’re staying with me. I’ll protect you. You’ll be safe," he insisted, holding your hand tightly.

Blushing, you nodded.

---------------

"Are you sure your parents will be okay with this?" you asked, sitting nervously on Gunwook’s bed.

"They will be. Once they’re back from their trip and I explain, they’ll let you stay," he assured you, folding your clothes into his closet.

"Go get ready for bed," he said, handing you pajamas and toiletries with a soft smile.

After a long shower, you returned to his room, where he was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

"Are you sure you’re okay with us… sharing a bed?" you asked, hesitant.

He put his phone down and looked at you. "Only if you’re comfortable. I can sleep in my parents’ room."

"No, I’m fine with it."

You slid into bed beside him, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of his nightlight. Turning towards him, you tucked yourself into his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before hiding your face in his chest. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

"Thank you. For everything," you whispered, as the two of you drifted into sleep, holding each other close.

The End.

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(a/n: Yeah, kinda rushed the ending a bit oops)