#and now this on top.... i need a moment!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[moonstruckme]

hello, my love! i cometh to the with a poly!marauders request.

i haven’t fleshed it out in my head, but could you write something revolving around them talking about r while she’s “asleep”? the way it came was in the sh drabble, reader falls asleep on james after the tough convo. i thought of a nice follow-up where the lads talk about ways to support them while they think she’s asleep and she feels so safe and supported and it’s just fluffy and cute.

it doesn’t have to be around sh or anything like that! just something fluffy and cute where they talk about her when they think she’s fallen asleep on one of the lads. it could be about past trauma they want to support her with, a trigger and them discussing how to go about helping, etc. - anything you fancy at all. i could use some soft fluff ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

poly!maraudes x fem!reader ♡ 796 words

Sirius’ thumb is sweeping a slow back-and-forth over the baby hairs at your temple. You can feel his chest rising and falling beneath your head, hear his heart inside it, smell the heady spice of his cologne, but you’re sleepy enough that those things fuzz together, melt into the gooey softness of dozing. 

James and Remus are tidying in the kitchen. You’ve been distantly aware of their low, continual sounds, but you don’t register the change until Remus’ footsteps near the couch where you and Sirius are lying, the floor creaking beneath his feet. 

“Do either of you—oh.” His voice drops to a hush when Sirius shushes him. “Is she asleep?” 

You have the notion to make some small sound, but your mind is sluggish. When Sirius murmurs, “yeah,” before you can, you decide to let it go. 

Remus makes a soft tsking sound. You feel the couch bend near your feet. “Should we wake her? She might not sleep well tonight if she does now.” 

“I don’t much care when she sleeps.” Sirius’ thumb keeps stroking at your temple, his voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. You think that you may never get past the oddity of being held by him like this. When you first met Sirius, any tenderness had to be disguised as flirting. In a moment like this he would have woken you with sweet, tickling kisses mushed into your neck, growling about how you were too cute to let sleep before making some joke about how if you want to get me into the bedroom, gorgeous, there are quicker ways. And it was all in good fun, you’d enjoyed it and known the real sentiments that lay beneath all his levity. But over time that showy, over-the-top amorousness has morphed into a more sincere sort of fondness, and you like this version of Sirius even more. “Only that she does sleep,” he finishes. “She hasn’t been getting much of it lately.” 

“No,” Remus hums. “I’ve noticed.” 

There are a few moments of soft, blanketing silence between them. You start to drift off again, but then another pair of footsteps comes. 

Remus must make some silent signal, because James whispers, “She’s sleeping?” 

Two hums. 

“It’s not like her to sleep during the day.” 

“We don’t think she’s been getting much of it during the night, either,” sighs Remus. 

James makes a low cooing sound. The throw piled by your feet finds its way up to your shoulders. 

“James.” Remus’ voice is stern. 

“What?” 

“Don’t touch her face,” says Sirius. 

“Sorry,” James laughs softly. “She just looks so cute.” 

“Well, try to restrain yourself.” 

“Okay, okay.” But a pair of lips touches down ever so softly on your forehead, and you hear Sirius’ amused chuff. “Why do you think it is that she’s not been sleeping?” James asks. 

Remus hums. “M’not sure. I think she may just be a bit overwrought.” 

Your chest aches at the caring in his tone. Sirius’ free arm bands across your shoulders, a protective, solid weight. 

“She’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “She just needs a little extra help at the moment, is all.” 

“Maybe we could bake something tonight,” says James. “She always likes that.” 

Remus’ voice is warm with affection. “That’s sweet, Jamie. Maybe something simple, so she can just relax.” 

“Like decorating cookies?” 

“Do we have the stuff for that?” Sirius wonders. 

James scoffs, and you feel Sirius’ chin bump your head as though a forceful kiss has been pressed upon the top of his. “As if you’d have any idea what’s in our pantry. Cute.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly to hide it, turning your face further into Sirius’ chest. All three boys go quiet. 

Sirius rubs your shoulder gently. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, lips to your hair. “Go back to sleep.” Your boyfriends stay silent as you settle, and for a cautious while after that. 

“She’s so precious,” Remus whispers, almost too softly for anyone to hear. 

James makes a quiet sound of agreement. “I hate when she’s upset.” 

“I don’t think she’s very upset,” Remus muses. “Or if she is, she might not know herself. It’s all just a bit much right now, I think.” 

“She’ll be okay,” Sirius says again. His hand is moving over your shoulder still. You think he might do it for hours if it kept you from waking, he loves you that much. Your heart feels too big for your chest. “We’ll take care of her. Cookies, right?” 

“It’s a start,” Remus agrees. 

“James, I swear to god, if you wake her I will fill your shoes with cow shit.” 

“I won’t,” James swears. “Relax.” He presses his lips to the tip of your nose, and both the other boys sigh.

[no-144444]

quick tweet, big problem- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar are together, but the world doesn't need to know you're engaged. lando decides they do.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! kravitz! reader

(context in case you don't know him: ted kravitz is a skyf1 presenter)

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“Red flag, red flag, come in,” Tom said.

Annoyance surged through him. This race was not going his way at all. He started slowing down, following closely behind Lawson. “Who’s off?”

“Colapinto,” he explained. “It’s a big one, probably a 20 to 30 minute red flag.”

For fucks sake. Oscar had told them it was too dangerous. They didn’t listen. He paid the price. Now Max was up into p2, and Lando was stuck in p5. Oscar couldn’t even do anything to help. He grunted, getting out of the car and following Tom back to the garage. 

He was ushered over to his engineers, but honestly all he wanted was to see you. Being Lando’s race engineer, Oscar had seen you around the paddock in some of his first weeks and befriended you, on top of that, he’d fallen madly in love with you and asked you out 11 months ago. You two had been going out for 11 months now, and, while he could see you between the screens as his engineers and Andrea gave him advice about the race, he kind of tuned them out, too busy staring at you.

“Jesus, loverboy, just go say hi and come back, alright? We need you thinking with your head, not your dick,” Zak scoffed, finally allowing him to see you. 

Quickly, Oscar rounded the corner of the desk and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on the top of yours. You didn’t stop talking to Lando, explaining the plan for the rest of the race. 

“But I fucking said to stay out,” Lando whined. 

“No, you told us to box you. We told you to stay out,” you explained, your voice calm. 

Lando just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” then walked off to go brood somewhere else. 

“Shitty weather, eh?” you mused.

“Awful,” he nodded. 

“Is that sweat or rain?” you asked, feeling how wet he truly was. 

“Both,” he sighed. He knew there were about forty cameras on the two of you. Moments between you two that the public saw were few and far between. You liked it that way. He liked it that way. Privacy was something he essentially gave up when he became a public figure, but that didn’t mean you had to. “How’s Lando doing?”

“He’s just pissed away his chance at World Champion,” you took a deep breath, leaning into him. “And I’ll be the one he screams at during the end of the race. I’ll be the one having to explain it to Zak, and I won’t get home until probably tomorrow. And my dad is staring at us.”

Oscar groaned. “Fucking hate dealing with this shit.” 

You nodded. “Me too. But at least there’s no race for two weeks.” 

“We’re off to Melbourne,” he reminded you. “Have to do the family rounds, since we’re engaged,” he beamed. Over the last break, Oscar had proposed. It was the happiest moment of your lives (closely followed by Oscar’s win in Baku), and now you were on your way to visit his extended family for the first time. Since he’d met most of your family (especially considering Ted Kravitz was your father and Oscar met him before he met you), it was only fair that you make the trip and meet his.

Before that though, you had to get through today. 

“You’d better go chat with your engineers,” you took your hands off his. “Zak is giving me dirty looks.”

He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want to.” 

You chuckled. “Go,” you urged him. “If you get higher than p9 I’ll give you a kiss at the end of the race.”

“Good deal,” he pondered. “Or I could just kiss you now,” and with that, he pressed his lips to yours quickly, before running off to his side of the garage. 

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Lando was an idiot, but he was Oscar's idiot, so you didn't kill him. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone slipped up, whether it be your dad, you, or Oscar. You didn't suspect it would be Lando, though. You did enjoy watching Oscar shout at him though. That was pretty funny.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[arminsumi]

. . . Satoru, who doesn't shut up during s★x

► '... yeah, talk like that, all up in my ear when he want that wax, can't even hear when I moan like that!'

+ Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT/18+ ONLY, (primarily) dirty talk, namecalling (baby, sl★t, and one playful instance of 'loser'), br★★ding kink, unprotected s★x, pwp, eludes to facesitting

+ Author's note: been a while since I made some pwp, but I just had a vision of a very verbal Satoru that I needed to express ✌️😗

Satoru's behind you, easing his hips against yours, hands tight on your waist, those blue eyes intently watching the sight of his hard cock disappearing into your tight cunt, savoring the feeling of gliding past your plush lips and pushing up into your guts inch by inch by inch by inch by inch by inch by inch. He's got a cocky, lopsided, downright slappable smile that contorts into an erotic o-shape as he moans in relief — he sounds like he's needed this all day.

And after his first few slutty moans roll out, his mouth doesn't close. He's got a big ego, a big cock and a big mouth and he just doesn't shut up during sex.

He's foul, unfiltered, and unashamed; ".... that greedy little pussy's just swallowing my cock today — yeah, look at you takin' it like you're my personal porn star — huh? Nooo, it's a compliment!" he tops this all off with a smitten kiss, a little bite on your bottom lip, and a sweet "You're just so fucking pretty, makes me curious..." but he trails off, like he just realized now that he can bite his tongue, show a little restraint.

Yeah, that restraint only exists for a short while.

Sweat running down the back of your thighs, Satoru's heavy-hitting thrusts make a sloppy, wet mess between your thighs. While he ruins you like this, he also starts running his mouth, making your head spin deeper into the heat of his intense sex, "Oh baby, take me deeper — fucking take it, yeah, you take that fucking dick... take that nasty fucking dick. J-just let me fuck — your — cunt — dumb — babyyy!" his vocals strain at the end as if your pussy just sucked the breath out of his lungs. He packs his cock as deep into you as he possibly can, cockhead nudging almost too deep inside, only to quickly ease out when you whimper, "Fuck, you good? Sorry, you just feel so fucking good, 'think I'm obsessed with this slutty little hole, 's the only one that can make me this hard. 'Don't stop'? Aw, don't worry... I'm not gonna stop for a while. Yeah, hold your legs back just like that, let me all in, baby."

Honestly, you learned about his breeding kink simply because of Satoru's tendency to blurt things out when he gets too blissed out on sex; "... yeahhh I fucking love you. Keep telling me you love me, 's gonna make me cum so fucking hard — fuck I'm so close, I-I'm so close, I'm gonna cum inside you baby — I'm gonna cum inside you and knock you up — uh-huh, 'gonna nut so fucking deep inside you, you're gonna get pregnant — g-gonna have my babies — oh fuck me, 'm cumming...! Ugh, stay right there and take this fucking nut, baby... fuck... fuck you fucking drained me." he takes a moment to steady his breaths, planting a slap on your ass and staring in silence for a while before he continues, voice softer-toned than earlier, "Hey, still with me, baby? Perk your ass up a little, I wanna watch my cum dribble out. What? That's not perverted... this is art. What are you sighing for? Nah, don't you laugh at me or I'm gonna — fuck you, get on my face, loser, I'm gonna make you cry."

Even outside of the bedroom he still has a nasty word or two just waiting to spill out his mouth — especially the morning after a long, hard night.

His eyes catch on the curve of your hips, he smirks, and he comes up behind you while you're in the kitchen, leans way down and mutters something nasty in your ear just to hear your naughty giggles. "Hey sweet thing, you got a boyfriend? Nah, relax, he doesn't have to know a damn thing..." he asks jokingly, massaging your tiny pussy in his big hands, middle finger dividing your plush lips and rubbing through the thin fabric of your panties — but it all only lasts for a split second of course, he intentionally leaves you wanting more. He'll act dumb if you call him a tease, "Huh? What do you mean 'do something about this'? Did I turn you on? I was just saying good morning, baby, you've got such a dirty little imagination."

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

I do not allow the copying/plagiarizing/reposting/translation (etc) of my works. Please don't steal what I've worked hard to create.

[nativegirltapes]

drew didn’t like to make a big deal out of his birthday, but unfortunately (fortunately) for him, he’s dating angel, the girl who makes it her life mission to celebrate his birthday !

notes — small birthday blurb for my babydaddyyyy <3 nothing that special.

you knew it was dangerous when drew gave you a copy of his key for his apartment. coming to steal his clothes and dig in his snacks was fun and sneaky, but planning a surprise party for him while he was away all day was definitely at the top of the list.

“i want everything to be perfect! we need to rehearse one more time!” you shouted. “everyone get in position!”

“really?” JD complained, although he was definitely speaking for everyone involved in the surprise. this was your 6th time making everyone rehearse for when drew got home. “yes. really. now get in position.” you rebutted, everyone ultimately listened and got into position. they knew how much this meant to you. they knew how much drew meant to you.

“wait!” your eyes shot open at the noise of drew stomping down the hallway. “he’s actually here! everyone positions now! for real this time!” you took your spot standing a few feet from the door, holding the fresh flowers you bought for drew.

your stomach did flips as you heard drew fiddling with the lock, you just wanted everything to be perfect for him. and more importantly you just wanted him to like it.

“SURPRISE!” everyone shouted as drew opened the door. a huge grin took over his face as he set his bag on the floor, immediately coming to embrace you.

you heard mumbled ‘happy birthday drew’s’ being yelled by everyone as he hugged you. he left kisses all along your ear and cheeks, “happy birthday drew.” you said softly, pulling away from the hug and giving drew his flowers. you were surrounded by dozens of people but still this moment felt so intimate. “thank you baby.” drew kissed you before making his way to his other friends and guests that you’d managed to all round up on the same day, all to celebrate him.

⋆˚࿔ 🎂 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

after a few hours of socializing with drew’s friends and castmates, some of who you loved and some of which you couldn’t stand, you’d finally gotten drew alone upstairs in his room for a bit.

“you did all this for me?” drew wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. a small smirk took over his face as he looked down at you. you looked absolutely stunning. you couldve gotten him nothing and he’d still be happy just being able to come home to you.

“yes.” you batted your lashes, your soft voice giving him butterflies. “there isn’t anyone else i would want to do it for.” you stood on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “you mean that?” drew teased, his hands making there way down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“do you want to find out?” you pulled him by the collar of his shirt back to the bed. drew wasn’t the only one getting what he wanted for his birthday.

[3amfanfiction]

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.

[katiascraft]

"If nothing else gets you through. Then darling, i'll cry with you" | LN4

parings: Lando Norris x reader.

Summary: after the chaotic Brazilian GP, you know Lando is verygood at lying that he is alright and nothing can move him. But with you he can't pretend.

Now playing: "Cry with you" by Jeremy Zucker.

Word count: +1,2k.

Warnings: I think none. A few cursed words I guess and mentions of anxiety. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: so today was the shittiest day at the office y’all! I still feel like shit but I needed to write something about this. Why is Lando so hated??? You need to check yourselves!! Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The Brazil GP it’s been the toughest so far. The Championship of drivers was also kind of defined. Of course Max was gonna win. He wasn't a three time world champion by luck. He is really one of the best drivers this sport has ever seen in history along with Senna, Prost, Lewis and Schumacher. But all of that indicated that your boyfriend was not gonna win the championship this year and that shuttered your heart.

You knew how hard Lando worked on that. All of the media attacked him. Social media twisting his words in a really cruel way. It was all too much noise and you perfectly knew how hard it was for him. How much anxiety he was handling and all of the pressure he was putting on himself. The pressure and illusion of the team to be back at the top after so many years decided it was gonna be Lando the one who did that. And that was a correct choice, lando was more than capable of winning the championship. But at some point it all happened so fast the pressure was descomunal.

You knew your boyfriend. You know how hard he’s worked all year. How much this all meant to him. You didn’t have holidays this year because he really wanted to fight. Train. And attack. Or at least that’s what he wanted to do.

You knew he was really good at pretending and playing it cool so people won’t ever know how much hurt his carrying. He could play the super hero indestructible for all the camaras. You won’t see him shattered right then and there. But you knew him too damn well to know he was broken. He hoped to be the winner. He dreamed about it his whole life. And this magical year was finally the one who gave him the chance to almost be it. This race was the hardest. It was luck and skills to the limit. A lot of crashes. The rain was irritating at one point. You almost didn't want to keep watching. When Lando got off track and went down to P6, you knew. He didn’t reply to any message through the radio. You cried, of course you did. You were on this as much as he was in it. You cried out of frustration. This year was a rollercoaster for you. You also dreamed of the day Lando won. You wanted that to happen even more than he wanted to. He deserved it. For how hard he works. How hard he is on himself when something out of his hands happens. Or when he made a mistake. How hard was all of that on his mental health. How obsessed he could get. And how that could send him into a spiral. You knew this was the best year at the same time it was the worst one.

When you watched him walk into the garage where you were. Your heart broke. Not because he was angry or even sad. He was playing it cool like it was not a big deal at all. So you knew how much pain he was handling.

Your eyes met after he talked to his engineers and mechanics. You were so sad this weekend. So good yet forgettable.

“Hey” he said walking to you and you just couldn’t help but dropped a few tears hugging him so tightly. You were squeezing him at some point. He let you do it. And rested his head on your neck. He fought the tears in his eyes so hard in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you. You are so strong Lando. So talented” you said now looking at him trying to repair something with your thoughts on him but knowing it won’t change anything. But you just wanted him to know he was all of that and the greatest person alive you knew. He kissed you gently.

“I love you y/n. Thank you for always supporting me” he said and gave you a kiss on the cheek giving you another hug. You didn’t say anything but hugged him tightly. After a few seconds another person joined and by the giggles he left out, you both knew it was Oscar. You two giggled a little. It was a family hug.

After that intimate little moment, the media had to be done so you had to say goodbye for a while.

(…)

After dinner with the papaya family you decided it was night in. Lando showered again because he said he had a headache. You haven’t talked about how he feels yet. You didn’t want to be invasive and more because this was a very sensitive topic to discuss. You knew he would eventually crack and talk to you. Like he always did.

You put on your pajamas and waited for him by just looking out the window at the city of São Paulo. After a few minutes la do was out. You turned to look at him. He was by his luggage wearing only a towel looking for a boxer and T-shirt. You could see his whole back. He took off the towel and put the clothes on. You looked to the bed and climbed in it waiting for him. You analyzed him one more time while he got cozy on the bed with you.

“Stop looking at me like that. I’m okay babe” he said, like reading your mind. You gave him a half smile.

“You sure? We can talk about it baby” you said softly and got closer to him so you could stroke his hair sweetly. He looked at you and nodded. But then his eyes were full of tears so he denied. Your heart sinks. “Come here my love” you said, bringing me to your chest and hugging him in a way for him to find comfort somehow. He hugged you and hid his face in your neck so you couldn’t see him. “It’s okay baby. I know it was q fucking shitty day at the office. I know how much you wanted it. And you deserve it still, baby. But life is sometimes a bitch you know? I mean the alpines got the podium” you said trying to make him feel better. He was still crying and all you could read was he tigherter his grip. “Sometimes life is a bitch to the people that don't deserve it. Amazing people who are good and so no harm but somehow get the harder life mode now and then. This makes you stronger, Lando. I know next years gonna be. You will do it. Because you can and because you want to. And that more than enough because talent you already have babe” he moved a little under your hug. You heard him giggle a little. That makes you smile a little too.

You stoked his curls gently and kissed his forehead.

“I love you and admire you so fucking much. You deserve the world and I know you will eventually get it” you told him now looking into his eyes holding his face between your hands. His face was wet and his eyes teary. Seeing him like this broke your heart in so Many pieces. But you knew he was gonna be okay. He was gonna be world champion one day.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I love you” he said with a shaky voice and you gave him a little kiss.

“You just did you landinho” you said sweetly making him smile and you gave him another million kisses.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[crazyvik97rpg]

Sebastian was still pretty drowsy and confused at first. His vision was a tiny bit blurry still as he blinked a few times but he so recognized William of course. He felt a warm hand against his own, squeezing gently, and then he heard his voice, speaking so softly and soothingly. Oh...he felt at ease right away. He wasn't alone and he also remembered what happened. William mentioned the surgery and that all went well.

That's when he widened his eyes a little bit more, argh the bright, white light was hurting a little. He remembered he had a surgery. Gosh...was it already over again? He felt so nervous before and now...it was all done? It was a weird feeling. He could barely move at first, heard this beeping sound right next to him and upon shifting a little - moving his toes, tensing his muscles in his legs and body, squeezing William's hand back - he felt the soreness, slight pain, the sensation of bandaids and bandages on his body. And of course the the sensation of the oxygen mask still on his face. He took a deep breath.

It took a while for Sebastian to properly wake up. His head still felt woozy but the pain meds were doing their job, so he felt somewhat okay. He didn't feel nauseous, his mouth only felt dry as a desert. But at least William was here - he kept squeezing his hand, Sebastian kept looking at him, his lips softly curved into a smile. And then eventually his voice started working again too - sounded a bit hoarse but oh well.

"Dove...all is done already...? ...Just a second ago I was still...I was still in there...", he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment then. He was still sleepy for sure. But the effect of the anesthetic was slowly wearing off after all.

It was in the next second that a nurse came in to check on him, having noticed that he woke up already. "Mr Michaelis, up and awake already?", she smiled, as she came to swiftly check on his vitals. Heart monitor looked normal and there was still enough fluids and pain meds in the IV bags. "How are you feeling? I will check your oxygen levels and blood pressure, so don't worry, it won't hurt", she spoke, as she started doing her work. It was a swift procedure, really - Sebastian kept holding William's hand with his bad arm, while the nurse checked everything using his good arm.

"I'm-...I'm feeling fine, I think", he hummed and he watched her, as she put the device for checking his blood pressure around his arm. This only took a few minutes.

"That's great to hear. How is your pain?", she also asked, "Do we need to increase your dose or are you feeling fine? Nauseous as well?"

"...Mmh no...well...a bit sore. No nausea thankfully...dry mouth."

"In case the pain gets worse, just say a thing, then we increase the dose. Soreness is normal, I'm afraid", she hummed, and once done with taking the blood pressure, she had another look at the bandages, just to make sure there were no signs of swelling or bleeding. Sebastian was quite chopped up, then sewn back together. The wounds were not big, just some around his collarbone and chest, under his arm as well, all with big bandaids on top - on top of that, he also had a drain, to collect the fluid now that the lymph nodes were gone.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[teddybeartoji]

neighbor!toji finds you sitting in front of your apartment door late at night as he's coming home and at first, he's really not planning on saying anything. he still doesn't know you, he hasn't talked to you – the most you've gotten is a look and a nod whenever you happen to take the elevator with him or when you just bump into him on your way out. and he really isn't the type to make small talk but with your knees pulled to your chest and your head rested on top of your hands, you look miserable and toji finds it very hard to ignore you.

he keeps stealing glances at your curled up figure as he searches for the keys in his pocket and it's only when he's got the door open, he swallows the weird lump in his throat.

"y'wanna come inside?" his voice is raspy, tired, but it does the job of luring you out of your little bubble.

there's a moment of silence.

toji isn't stupid, he knows the dangers of the world and it doesn't take him long to realize how strange his offer might sound. his eye twitches out of sheer embarrassment as he averts his gaze, rough fingers fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

"that would be really nice actually, yeah."

there's no suspicion in your tone, nothing that would indicate that you're thinking what he's thinking. toji's mossy green eyes meet yours and he's met with a look he knows all too well.

exhausted.

"just so i can charge my phone?" you're already trying to apologize for yourself. to tell him that you'll only stay for as long as you need, afraid that you're bothering him.

but he just gives you a hum, patiently waiting for you to push yourself off the ground. for a moment, you stand next to him in front of the door, waiting for him to step inside first but when he gestures to go in before him, you don't argue with him. your hushed 'thank you' doesn't go unheard.

his apartment is tidy. probably even more so than your own. it looks surprisingly cozy – the light isn't a big, bright one but a dimmed down one instead and the sight of his big couch makes you let out a soft sigh. from the corner of his eye, toji observes you. he hasn't had anybody over in a long time and now here you are.

he tells you to take off your shoes and to take a seat while he goes to look for a charger, giving you the perfect opportunity to take a better look around the place – dvd's, old magazines and newspapers, a few movie posters and one singular plant. it's not a lot but it still feels like a good home.

at the sound of his voice, you snap out of your thoughts. your fingers brush against one another as you take the charger from him with another 'thank you'. a

"you're not going to kill me or anything though, right?"

...

for a man his size and his age, he feels a bit small under your gaze. you're blunt more than anything and he's just a little caught off-guard by your question.

"no."

"that's good."

you break the eye-contact to look for a place to plug in the charger and he feels relieved. "you feel safe."

you say it like it's nothing.

"i wouldn't've accepted the offer from anyone else, i think. well, maybe from the lady across the hall but then again, she'd just scold me for being up so late and i'm way too tired for that."

the words slip from your lips as if they're light as air while toji needs a second to really hear you, to know that he isn't making you uncomfortable. that in your eyes, he isn't scary or threatening in any shape or form. perhaps you're just naive for putting your trust into a stranger like this but toji still can't help but feel a little warm inside.

he doesn't say anything and you don't mind his silence. you do thank him a third time and let your lips curl into a proper smile when he almost unintentionally raises his brow at you – like it's weird that you're doing that.

he ends up bringing you a glass of water before joining you on the couch, both of your eyes set on the tv screen and the show that plays on it as you eakt for your phone to come alive again.

it doesn't feel wrong to just be with him like this.

it's right enough for you to let your exhaustion sneak up on you. your eyelids grow heavy without you even realizing it and then you're already dozing off on your neighbor's couch.

your quiet snores are so unfamiliar, the mere idea of somebody being able to fall asleep in his presence so surreal that he's left sitting there dumbfoundedly. regardless, he reaches for a blanket before throwing it over your body ever so carefully and turns down the volume of the tv as to not disturb you.

a stranger, a neighbor. somebody, who makes him feel a bit more alive. a silly comment, a blunt reply. a smile and a thank you.

a push to keep on going.

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) failing no nut november ! ୨୧ 一 라이즈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ would they fail no nut november ヾ

boyfriend!riize・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・mentions of sex, a little bit of degradation‎ wc ・ ‎0.9k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. if you have your req open could you consider this! either a reaction or like short drabbles ig but the concept is: riizes reaction to u making them fail no nut november/ or trying to make riize fail no nut november

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope this is what you wanted...<3

﹙ 𐙚 : shotaro﹚ .ᐟ

he would definitely give up if you asked him to, the moment you bat those pretty eyelashes he's gone. “what can i do for you baby.” he smiled , but from the look in your eyes he could already tell what you wanted. “i need you.” that's all he needs before he's like ‘the hell with this challenge.’ picking you up taking you back to your room and laying you down. “you need me baby?” his hands finding his way to your clothed slit, rubbing circles on your clit. “y-yes.” he chuckled. “so cute baby.” your sweet cunt soaking his fingers. “don't worry baby.” the challenge no longer on his mind.

“no need to beg i'll fuck you the way you need me to.”

﹙ 𐙚 : eunseok﹚ .ᐟ

eunseok won't give in, he's not gonna give you what you want, no matter how much you beg him. “eunseok please.” you followed behind him. “what's the point of this stupid challenge?” you desperately pleaded with your partner. “don't you want to fuck me.” his silence pissed you off. “fine i’ll just go handle it myself.” he didn't like that at all. “go ahead and you won't cum at all in december.” he warned. “go ahead and touch what's mines, i dare you.” you whined, turning back to your room, still needy for your man's touch. “so mean.” you mumbled under your breath.

“keep talking back and you won't cum until january.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sungchan﹚ .ᐟ

he'll give in— after he's done fucking with you, he loves teasing you but in the end he'll give you what you want. “baby it's just a month, you can't go a month without me fucking you?” he smirked , you rolled your eyes. “please if you weren't doing this to piss me off you wouldn't be able to go a month.” he chuckled. “whoa baby , that's big talk for someone who wants to be fucked , maybe we should see if we both can last until december.” your entire attitude changed making him smirk condescendingly. “i like this attitude better, now get on your knees.” you followed his orders, getting down on your knees. “good girl.”

“i don't give a fuck about this challenge i just want a excuse to fuck the attitude out of you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : wonbin﹚ .ᐟ

he wouldn't give in simply to fuck with you. wonbin is a fucking tease and loves to see you struggle, it turns him on to see it — if anything it motivates him to finish until the end. “wonbin you know you don't give a fuck about this stupid challenge.” you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “it been almost a month since you fucked me.” he smirked. “you keeping track of the days sweetheart?” you wanted to slap him but that wouldn't get you anywhere. “why can't you just fuck me.” he laughed, mocking you further. “because you need to practice self control baby you're begging for dick right now.”

“don't worry i'll fuck you when this is all over.”

﹙ 𐙚 : seunghan﹚ .ᐟ

he’d give in simply because he can't not give you what you want. your his baby; and you're practically begging for him to fuck you… so he has to give his baby what she wants. he can participate next year , you needed him. “hannie please.” you begged into your boyfriend's ear. “i want you so fucking bad.” he smiled at you, cradling your face in his hands. “language princess.” you whined. “this game is stupid.” you sighed in frustration. “please just give up.” that's all he needed. “fine princess , be a good girl and lay down.” you were quick to undress yourself laying back , waiting for your man. “so pretty and desperate.” he said, now undressed. “so spoiled.” he climbed on top of you.

“always needy for my cock.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sohee﹚ .ᐟ

he's failing because he's not participating; number one munch here isn't gonna give up eating your sweet cunt for a let , let alone not fucking you for an entire month. you had to be the one to try and encourage him to go at least a month — it's last not even a full day. “sohee this is not how this works.” you try and push the boy currently in between your thighs away. he whined out like you cut him. “what do you mean i can't eat you out?” he questioned. “that's the whole point , not cumming.” you said. “well you don't have to cum , just let me taste you.” you pushed him away again, he cried out. “you have to wait a month.” he moved your hands , holding them down as he gave your cunt a lick. “fuck hee.” you moaned. “see that challenge is stupid.” he said.

“just let me make you cum on my tongue.”

﹙ 𐙚 : anton﹚ .ᐟ

he'll last a week or two before he can't take it anymore; his need for you overruling any stupid challenge. “anton you wanted to do this challenge.” he hated when you brought it his grave mistake. “it's only a few more weeks.” he whined , wrapping his arms around you, his obvious hard on pressed against you. “baby please, it's just a stupid challenge with the hyungs , they don't even have to know.” he kissed the inside of your neck. “please don't ignore me, I'm so fucking hard.” he groaned, feeling you up trying to rile you up. “anton.” you sighed. “see you want this too.” his hands came up to your boobs. “we don't even have a to tell them.”

“just let me fuck you , please baby.”

©LUVYENI

[anamateurhumanbeing]

That did not change your mind. That man had taken everything from you. Every night for the past 2 decades you see his green eyes when you go to bed, haunting you in your sleep. You spent too much time training for this moment to turn back now. You need this.

At the dead of night you quietly sneak into his house. You hear the television running. Going into the living room you find your target. From your hiding spot you can spot him on his chair, a small child with curly hair asleep on his lap. A man walks into the room. You nearly yelp and give yourself away. He looks so much like the mercenary did the night he killed your family, right down to those green eyes. But he's different enough for you to remind yourself he's not the target, his father is.

The young man picks up the child, his daughter you presume, and carries her upstairs. You wait nearly half an hour, making sure the son won't return. The monster is all alone now. A part of you hesitates. If you kill this man, take him away from his family, what makes you any better than him?

'Because I have a good reason,' you remind yourself. Your doubts fade, but there's still a small voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back now.

You make your move. You sneak up behind him, putting a hand to his mouth. You pull out your knife, bright red in colour, custom made, and hold it to his neck.

"Scream and your family dies too," you whisper. An empty threat, you have no intention of harming them. You don't plan on reveling in this too long.

"Do you remember me?" you ask as you take off your mask, revealing your own brown eyes. The former mercenary shakes his head.

"Please. I'm sorry, do whatever you want to me, just please let my family go," he begs.

That only makes you madder. "Sorry? You don't even know what you did to me, and you have the gall to apologize!" you hiss, careful not to raise your voice too much.

"I killed someone you love, no? It's what I did for a living. I was an awful man. I deserve what ever you plan on doing to me, but please don't do it here. Please leave my f-"

You sock him in the jaw. You have tears in your eyes. How dare this disgrace of a human being pretend to care.

"Why?" You ask. You told yourself you wouldn't ask, that it would not make a difference.

Tha man's expression, while still full of fear, changes into one full of shame.

"I needed the money, I-"

You don't let him finish. Hearing that your family was just a paycheck for him was too much. You scream as you plunge your knife into his chest. You pull it out, then stab him again. And again. And again. When you entered this building you told yourself that you would make it quick. You aren't a monster, you said. Yet you look down, the man's chest torn to shreds, his blood coating both of your bodies. It feels good.

You can't leave him like this. You know it will devastate his family if he disappears, but it would devastate them more if they find him like this. You pick up the corpse, and begin to carry it off, when you're interrupted by a scream. You turn around to see the man's son, holding a golf club in his hand, his face distraught.

The man takes a swing at you, which you narrowly dodge. You drop your knife and raise your hands. "Wait, you need to understand. That m-"

The second sing hits and it knocks you to the ground. He delivers a third swing to your head, you can feel some blood trickling down your face. You manage to grab your knife and slash at your attacker's leg. You attempt to run away, but he tackles you back down to the ground and begins punching your face. Without thinking you take your knife and jab it into his throat. The son falls on top of you. You push his body off of yours, and let your blade fall to the ground. You don't know how long you spend lying there.

You've killed dozens of people. You always had a reason to do so.

'He was going to kill you, you had no choice but to take his life,' you tell yourself. But you know that isn't entirely true. That man would still be alive if you hadn't come here tonight.

You sit up, and your brown eyes make contact with a pair of green eyes. The curly haired girl is standing in the doorway. She quickly runs away. You get up, and you run into the other direction, barging out of the house, out of the town. You don't even notice you left your knife on the floor. You just keep running, until you finally pause to take a breath in the woods.

What have you done? You have no idea how much that girl had seen. You hear voices and footsteps. No doubt an angry mob of townsfolk on their way to avenge their leader and his son. You take off, and eventually make your way back to the base you call a home.

You look into a mirror. Your covered in blood, some of it's yours, most of it isn't. You stay in the shower for long after it's all washed away. You still feel dirty.

You sell off most of your gear. Spend most of the money you made on getting a new identity and move nearly three states away.

You get a job as a self-defence coach. Maybe something good can come out of those years you wasted training. It's through that you meet your husband. You don't think you deserve it. The love. You confess everything, expecting him to go to the police. He says he understands, and he reassures you that you aren't that person anymore. You don't believe him. You eventually have children, twins. They're the light of your life. You try to teach them kindness, to let go of grudges instead of seeking retribution.

You still have trouble sleeping. You still see those green eyes when you close your eyes, but now they belong to a young girl.

You wake up from a nightmare. You quietly get out of bed, making sure not to wake your husband. You make your way to then kitchen for a glass of water, looking at the various family photos you've taken over then past two decades as you walk down the stairs. Once you reach the living room you pause. There's an open window. You definitely remembered closing it earlier.

Looking around the room, you notice your son left his guitar lying around. You mentally note to buy him a new one as you grab it and hold it like a weapon. Cautiously, you walk up to the window. Looking down, you see footprints in the snow leading towards it. You barely have time to process when something hits you in the head.

When you come to, you find yourself bound by ropes. It's too dark to tell where you are, but you can see a human figure standing in front of you. They're wearing nothing but black, and are holding a familiar red knife. You look up at their face, and you see a woman, with green eyes and curly hair.

"Do you remember me?" she asks.

When you were a child, a mercenary made you watch as he killed your entire family in front of you. You swore revenge. Decades later, you've finally tracked them down- …only to find they're now a pacifistic geriatric who's beloved by his community.

[skzdarlings]

the kiss ; skz ; lee know x reader

pairing: lee know/reader content info: friends to lovers, established friends w benefits but they are in love, your honour. reader is a gnc woman. top!reader, bottom!minho, some light dom!reader, sub!minho. mahandling, teasing, handjobs, rimming, spitting, strap-ons, mentions of past pegging, mentions of spanking/belting, lots of smooching word count: 3000 words.

this was originally going to be a multi-part story but i changed my mind thus this went to die in my graveyard of scraps. however i love this couple and i liked this scene and it seemed a shame to not post it at all haha. hopefully others will enjoy it too :)

<3

-

Raising your kid brother means you will forever occupy the nebulous, fucked up space of Not-Your-Parent, Still-Your-Mom, even when said kid brother has long stopped being a kid.  Jeongin will always be your first priority. 

Minho knows it too.  He has been your best friend for several years now.  He knows you.  He knows you will always stop what you’re doing if Jeongin needs you. 

Even at the tragic expense of an orgasm. 

It’s two o-clock in the morning, an hour after you got off work bartending.  Minho has to be up for his office job in four hours so he was grumbly when your horny ass woke him up with a bulge pic.  You like to consider yourself above obnoxious hormone-driven decisions, but that’s before the strap-on straps on.  Several inches of silicone later and you’re taking (tasteful) fake-dick dick pics in the bar bathroom. 

Minho answers the door shirtless, his grey sweatpants betraying his already chubbed up semi, and with an extraordinarily icy glare that not even his sleep-mussed blonde hair can diminish.  He snarks at you until you curl your fingers into his dark roots and yank. 

It takes only minutes to manhandle him back into his bed, moments to get his sweatpants off, and seconds to have your fingers around his throat and his dick gliding through your spit-wet fist. 

You end up horizontal across the middle of his big bed.  You’re still in a t-shirt and jeans, your boots and leather jacket somewhere on the floor.  Minho is naked and covered in little love bites, his body a fading canvas of your previous times together.  The sight never fails to make you ache, your fingers tracing the evidence of your own hungry desires. 

You kneel between his open legs and he impatiently pries open your belt.  His mouth ticks up in an amused grin as you let him whip the belt out of its loops.  He tosses it behind him, his smile a smidgeon cocky even while on his back. 

You would never call him cute, because he’d probably slap and correct you (he’s handsome, thank you very much), but he is.  Cute.  Sweet.  The way he cocks his head, the way he gazes up at you.  There’s an erratic heartbeat in both your cunt and actual heart, the latter more pronounced than usual.   Your eyes have already adjusted but the blue darkness of his bedroom seems fuzzier, everything around him disappearing in a blurry smog of relative insignificance.   

“You’re staring,” he says, his fingers crawling under your shirt.  His knuckles brush your nipple through your sports bra.  He pulls a face when he pinches it meanly. 

You grab both his wrists and yank his hand out of your shirt.  He does not look remotely chagrined, instead he is beaming with satisfaction, like he was the one who planned your reaction.  

You pin his hands above his head then lean over him.  His playful arrogance fades, his gaze jumping to your mouth then back to your eyes.  It brings your attention to his mouth, pink and wet, his bottom lip plump and bitten from his own teeth running over it. 

You have kissed him before.  It isn’t a habit but also isn’t strange.  You were the first to ever initiate a kiss.  It was the third time you slept together and the first time you properly came from fucking someone.  The base of a toy in a strap-on can sometimes provide some stimulation against your clit, depending on a few factors, but you usually have to be pretty worked up to even get close. 

He got you more than close, taking you right over the edge.  You all but fell onto him with the desperation of your kiss.  His ankles were hooked behind your back, his face warm where your thumb stroked his skin, where you raked fingers into his sweaty hair as you sunk deep inside him with dick and tongue at once. 

You usually kiss like that: in the throes of something especially electrifying.  You think this might be the first time you kiss him so simply, just like this, with clarity and consciousness, spurred by affection more than thoughtless passion.  A deliberate kiss, as you lean down and do just that, his lips warm and open against yours. 

His eyes close, his brow furrows.  

The thing about Minho that turns you on the most is how he… well, how he Minhos.  His smirking, his snarking, his fake impatience, how much he dishes out.  He’s your friend, someone you’ve sat beside on weekend camping trips, resting in comfortable silence around a fire while Jeongin and his friends cause a ruckus somewhere down on a beach.  Minho will sit on your couch with his feet in your lap, his hat backwards, wearing glasses so he can read the nutritional content on a snack bag while you carelessly scarf down its contents.  He’ll tease you kindly, let you playfully knock your knuckles under his chin.  He’ll cook you meals when you haven’t eaten all day, too busy with everything to take care of yourself, but he’ll wave away any expression of gratitude after the fact.  He’s good, utterly, but he likes to be trouble too. 

And that’s what really gets you going, something you admit can’t be replicated with any other lover.  Because they aren’t Minho.  And that’s the best part. 

Like this.  Playful and catty and mad you woke him when he has work tomorrow, but turning soft and pliant under your body.  His brow is drawn tight as you kiss him, like he can’t comprehend the sheer pleasure of it.  He breathes in through the kiss, a trembling breath that flutters on your lips, then he cranes his neck to kiss you again. 

You press his head into the bed.  Somewhere in the simmering warmth of your kiss, your hands shift so your fingers lace and push against the bed.  He makes a keening sound, his back arching, kiss breaking with a deep breath as his hips and cock and thighs make contact with your jeans.  

He turns his face to the side and closes his eyes.  His chest moves with the quickness of his breathing, somehow looking like you’ve fucked for him hours when all you’ve really done is kiss him. 

His fingers tighten around yours when you kiss his exposed cheek, down his jaw, down his neck.  He rips his hands out from under yours only to throw them around your shoulders.  His fingers dive into your hair, rough and demanding when he pulls your head back to his.  His mouth opens for a kiss, his tongue slashing against yours when you give it to him.  You kiss him hard, kiss him until his fingers go weak and his arms are shaky, clinging to your neck like a lifeline. 

“That’s it, baby. So good,” you say, a slur of words without thinking too hard.  You blink with some amazement at the noise he makes, the way his whole body rears up against yours.  You cradle his hips and lick his red over-kissed mouth.   

Then your phone buzzes.  He hears it first, or at least registers the reality of it first, head whipping to his bedside table where you left it.  He is already glaring when you lift your face.  Your head is spinning, your mouth as raw as his.   

He digs his fingernails into your back through your t-shirt.  He has also painted something of a mosaic there, faded thin lines from overeager fingers scratching when you fuck him.  You obviously cannot directly feel when you are inside him, but he makes sure you feel it other ways.  Sometimes you feel it for days.  

He’s still glaring.  God, that expression really does get you so hot.  You are literally throbbing under the silicone in your jeans. 

“You’re going to check that, aren’t you, asshole,” he says with more resignation than genuine malice. 

“I should,” you say.  “Just in case it’s—”

He makes a noise that starts as a sigh and turns to a scream.  You rub your ear after. 

“Your dick isn’t even real,” he says, throwing an arm over his eyes, “and you still manage to disappoint me.”

You laugh, so fond of him.  Your pounding heart is not slowing down.   It’s hard to look away from him, though you manage it long enough to see your phone light up with a text alert. 

He grabs your chin, turning your face back to his. 

“Make me come first, or I’m biting it,” he says.

“B-biting what?”

“Your dick.  I’ll chew the head off.”

“Please don’t gnaw on my dick.  It was expensive.”

“Orgasm. Now.”

He throws his arms out to the sides, eyebrows lifted in an expression of pointed expectation. 

His position briefly reminds you of the first time you ever did this, years ago.  You never complained about the obligations that came with raising Jeongin, but it wasn’t exactly easy.  Between leaving school to work and shirking your social life, you made more than a few sacrifices. You off handedly expressed the vaguest desire for something more substantial than one night stands but not as serious as a relationship, given your responsibilities, and Minho replied by throwing his arms up and giving you that exact same look. 

Well? his challenging eyes have always said.  You have never backed down from a challenge. 

You run your hands down his sides.  His arms jerk because it tickles, but you hold him down to lick and bite from hip to pit to shoulder.  He wriggles under you, his breath getting shallower.  His dick twitches when your hand curls tightly around it. 

You know how to make him come quickly.  You know his body like a well-loved song, every peak and crescent long since memorized. 

You manhandle him onto his front.  He gives in when you push down his head and shoulders, lets his knees push his backside up, up, up.  His toes curl and uncurl, his voice breaking into choppy little mewls that make you throb.   You spit on his hole and your mouth chases it, tongue doing what your dick would have done.   Your other hand is under him, stroking in steady tandem.  

You don’t rush.  It won’t take long anyway because he isn’t trying to hold back. 

That makes you wonder, for a moment.  If he even could hold his orgasm.  Your sex doesn’t exactly resemble conventional intercourse between a man and a woman so it’s not usually too important if he stays very hard or not, greedy with his orgasms and never restraining long.  Denial isn’t something you’ve ever played with.   Prolonged orgasm control is something of a commitment in its own right.   Years ago, when you started this, you were avoiding those commitments.  

Now…  Well, Jeongin is older, living in a university dorm.  You live in a flat on your own.   You aren’t seeing anyone else and haven’t so much as hooked up with a stranger in months.  You know Minho hasn’t slept with anyone else in more than a year.  

You think about how he kissed you back.  You think of his backwards hats, his laughter, his sighing as he wraps himself around you.   

You imagine slowing your touch, telling him to hold it.  Don’t come.  Because I’m going to fuck you tomorrow, because you’re mine, and I want you ready for it. 

Your mouth gets him wet enough that spit runs down his skin.  You circle your thumb around his rim, press in, and murmur, “Wish I could come inside you.” 

He comes like that, shoving his face into the bedcovers to stifle his strangled yell.  Minho is always loud when he finishes, maybe something to do with being an only child and latchkey kid to boot.  He has lived alone for most of his life so he has never had a reason to be quiet.  As someone who comes silently, you like it, that unabashed eruption of pleasure that he can’t really hide. 

You nip the curve of his ass and narrowly dodge the backward swipe of his hand.  He keeps his face buried in the blanket, grumbling nonsense as he finally lowers his hips.  You straddle his ass and smooth your hands up his spine, watching him shudder under your touch.  You run your hands up and up, over his shoulders to cup his face and lift it out of the blankets.

“Up more,” you say. 

He’s always at his nicest and most obedient right after coming.  With only a little huff, he pushes his torso up and tips his head back.  His eyes flick up to where you lean over him.  The bulge of your packed toy is sitting on his ass. 

“Open,” you say. 

He opens his mouth, still gazing up and back at you.  Those dark eyes make all the blood in your heart rush lower, thumping frantically.  His head falls all the way back when your hands circle his throat to hold him there.  He only closes his eyes when you spit in his mouth, lips closing around it as he moans like you just gave him the sweetest gift in the world. 

“Good,” you say, kissing the top of his head.   

He groans and flops back down, then brings his arms forward to fold and cushion them under his head.  He lifts his hips to grind his ass against your bulge, probably smirking into his elbow. 

“Better check your phone,” he says.  He yelps when you slap his ass.  

“You’re lucky you tossed that belt away, smartass,” you say.   

That degree of playing is also not something you have ever done, though you’ve skirted the idea once or twice.  Your red handprint on his ass attests to it. 

“Promises, promises,” he mutters. 

You are tempted to give him another smack for good measure, but it will only work you up more.  Instead you muster the resolve to pull away.  His discarded sweatpants are the closest fabric so you wipe your hands on it.  It earns your own backside a smack as you crawl to his bedside table. 

“Hey,” you say, menacing but humorously so. 

He knows you have no intention of following through with any threats, so he clamps both hands on your ass and squeezes.  He cackles evilly before rolling out of arm’s reach.  

Shaking your head and smiling, you check your phone.  It is Jeongin.  You can’t help but facepalm when you read his message. 

Hi it’s Jeongin from family.  Your brother Jeongin.  Hello. We went to a Party far away and Uber dropped us off but now they don’t have anyone to pick us up!! :(  Please rescue us.  There are woods and trees and maybe bears.  and we are drunk.  Nothing Illegal

Ah, fuck.  Nothing says illegal substance like swearing the opposite unprompted.  You would know; before your parents died, you were indubitably on track to being the problem child.  Your first year of university was a mess you intended to straighten out later, but later never came.   Your parents died, Jeongin was still a minor, and you made a series of hard choices overnight.    

After all these years, you’re still not sure if your wayward experiences made you a better pseudo-parent or a worse one.  Maybe ignorance would have made you less panicky all the time.  Maybe it would have made you worse. 

Minho ducks into the bathroom while you text with Jeongin.  You are lacing up your boots when Minho returns with your toothbrush, one he keeps for your overnight visits.  Looking at his thighs in his boxers, the hickey poking out just under the hem, makes you wish tonight was one of those nights.  Tragically, the only one being deprived of an orgasm is you. 

You scrub the brush around your mouth, just enough, then swallow.  He leaves again, your eyes on every step of his retreat. 

“You’re staring again,” he says from the bathroom. 

“Duh,” you say.  You go back to tying your boots but your mind is elsewhere.   You are thinking about Jeongin and his friends, of course, but you are also thinking about Minho.  A lot about Minho.  Mostly about Minho.  Arousal is still coursing through your veins, never mind all the emotions you kept so carefully tucked away for so long. 

Suddenly, it’s all you can think about.  He’s all you can think about. 

Minho kneels behind you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.  He kisses behind your ear, then your neck, your clothed shoulder.   Your fingers dance anxiously over your knees. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you say. 

It isn’t a joke but he laughs, mistaking it for one.  “Sure,” he says.  “You just can’t take your own teasing.” 

“Minho.”  

“Tyrant.”

You turn, grasping his chin so quickly he gasps.  You guide his face to yours and kiss him. 

This kiss is slower, bold and open-mouthed.  Hot.  His moan is a light sound at the back of his throat and it zaps through you like an electric bolt.  He drags his nails down the middle of your back, making every hair stand on end.  When the kiss eventually comes apart, he presses his forehead to yours. 

You are both breathing hard. 

“I’m not working tomorrow night,” you say, your voice a low rumble.  You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip.  “Can I come over?”

He nods.  Minho can be loud to say the least, but sometimes his voice gets so delicate that it turns your brain to mush.  He talks like that now, all soft and sweet, so close to your mouth.  “You promised to fuck me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be thinking about it all day now.”

“Me too,” you say.

“Mm.”  He flops over and rolls so his back is to you.  “That’s too bad for you.”  He accompanies this comment with a wiggle of his hips. 

You can’t help but smile at him. 

“See you then, brat,” you say. 

“You’ll see me in your dreams,” he says, accompanying it with a dramatic yawn.  “And when you masturbate tonight.  Good night!”      

[somethingthing]

Warm Up

Rafe Cameron x pouge!fem!reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

Word count: 630

A/N: what is happening?? Two fics in like three days?? I must be sick or something.

No but seriously, I’m so in love with Rafe and I just need some fluff so this is just something short and sweet that took me way too long to get down.

Hope you enjoy!! <33

You were cramped up on a sunbed, it was a tight fit but with Rafe laying half on top of you it was comfortable enough. His head was laying on your chest, using it as a pillow. It was still warm out, the last bit of sun warming up your bodies.

"This is nice" you reached your hand out to get the drink on the small table next to you, taking a sip "Want some?" you held the glass at his level.

"Thanks, but that means i need to move" he squeezed his arms tighter around you "And I´m way too comfortable" he finished.

"Suit yourself" you downed the last bit, leaving only the ice in the glass.

"I´m sorry about what went down on the beach" he mumbled. Your hand that had been stroking his back stopped for a moment "I know I should’ve said something"

You shifted a bit, making him look up at you "I know you are honey" you had been mad at him, but you understood why he hadn´t said anything. With all the whispering behind his back about his dad and family he was scared, scared that if he wasn´t all in with the rest of the kooks they´d turn against him.

"I´m sick of it, the whole kooks and pouge thing" he laid his head down on your chest again "But I did hate them, especially those idiots my sister keeps running around with, but i like you" he nestled his face into your neck "Really like you" you could practically feel him smirking as he placed lazy kissed on your neck.

"Rafe" you giggled out. You sank deeper into the sunbed, placing yourself directly under him. He was hoovering above you, making the sun hit your face.

"You really are something, you know that?" you felt your face heat up. It wasn´t too often he was like this, the rare moments you got, you cherished "Pouge and all" he teased, grinning down at you.

Just like that, the peace you just felt was replaced with mischief "And you are an asshole" you shot back, placing a playful kiss on his nose "You know, if you like me and I´m a pouge, you might like the others too"

He huffed "Pfft if they´re not you, I don´t like them" you scrunched your face in dissaproval "But-" he sighted deeply "but I`ll try and tolerate them" he finished, kissing your lips softly.

"I can live with that" you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. The sun had gone down and the lack of the previous warm rays made you shiver slightly "Is the hot tub running? I´m cold"

"Don´t think so, but it doesn't take long to heat up" he sat up, pulling you with him. Your legs draped over his knees "But in the meanwhile I think I know a few ways to get you warm again" his hand ran up your leg, grinning at you, your cheeks fluster again.

"My saviour" you said dramatically, swinging your legs to the ground you stood up "I´m gonna go and get my bikini while you heat the tub up" standing up as well he wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Bikini? No no, no need for that" he once again placed lazy kisses along your neck, making you lean your head back against him "I told you, I have a plan to keep you warm" he slowly started to walk towards the hot tub still with his arms around you.

"Mhm, right" you giggled out, turning your head to place a kiss on his jaw. You wished you could stay like this forever, just you and Rafe, away from everyone and everything. You knew that tomorrow would be back to the usual chaos that seemed to curse the island, but for now, you were here. Just here in the moment with Rafe, not worrying about anything.

——————————————

Not sure I like this but it just feels good the write I guess so here we are. And as always feedback is always welcome and thank you for reading!! <33

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who contacted you just to see if this was a life he was willing to live. Yoongi was no stranger to this concept and type of relationships; always being aware of what was going on around him, the arrival of this term came up carefully, planting a small seed of curiosity in him. Yoongi read stories, listened to reports, tried to understand if that fascination he felt was something more than that – he was a curious man, no one could deny that, so what was wrong with him contacting you and expressing all his doubts? “i’m not used to any kind of relationship. that’s why this experience goes beyond the sugar daddy-sugar baby relationship. if you have patience, i promise i will make your wait worth it.”

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who takes you to see the stars at the highest points in the city. Yoongi treated you with care. so new to this minefield of relationships and human interactions, Yoongi made a point of offering you all the kindness his turbulent heart could allow. as such, on the clearest nights, when the sky provided you with an ethereal landscape of pure hope and huge dreams, Yoongi took you with him. on top of a small hill, in the tallest building in the city, it didn’t matter where it was. when the stars called him, Yoongi held your hand in fear and made you forget the world. “i don’t force you to go. but i would like you to come with me. i always saw myself at night, you know? i always felt artificial with someone else’s shine being reflected back at me. but now with you… no, forget it. just come, will you?”

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who doesn’t know if he should touch you, but he knows he won’t want to let go. your smile was charming. your eyes were captivating. your lips were alluring. you were fascinating. as he looked at you, Yoongi felt a small nervousness creep up his neck, whispering in his ear that he should touch you. but, could he? Yoongi had all your limits memorized from day one, and he knew that you let him, that you gave him permission, for him to touch you. but even so, when the moment invited him and anxiety caressed his heart, Yoongi always thought twice before acting. “i really need to know if you’re okay with all of this. because, when my hands fit into yours, there will be nothing in this world that will make me let go of you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who finances the beginning of your empire. whether it was a line of cosmetics or a simple website, it didn’t matter. you could need millions or just five euros, there was no difference to Yoongi. ever since he met you, Yoongi felt safe, comfortable, you almost made him believe that he was worthy of your attention - and he knew it was a manufactured relationship, that you were almost forced to nod and agree with him, but Yoongi never felt more complete than from the day he met you. as such, he just wanted to repay you for all the satisfaction you provided him, after all he always liked to spoil you, to see the way your eyes sparkled when you received a gift, or how his words sounded sweeter when he surprised you. . so, what better proof of his gratitude than funding your dream? “i have already transferred the money to your account, you should receive it tomorrow. but let me know if it’s enough, okay? there is no bad money spent when it is spent on you and your dream.”

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who likes to see you distracted in the moonlight. Yoongi liked being with you during full moon nights. when he saw you sitting on his bed, playing with the sheet that covered you, a small smile on your lips as you regained your breathing, Yoongi felt something he couldn’t decipher. your back was facing Yoongi, your smooth skin being blessed by the strong light of the moon; your lips formed a perfect smile as your gentle fingers created small designs on Yoongi’s white sheet. from that perspective, after you gave yourself to him and assured him that you weren’t going anywhere, Yoongi could only admire you. carefully, always afraid of touching you, of hurting you, Yoongi liked to run his slender fingers along your back, making you involuntarily straighten up and gently turn your face towards him. absorbed in this vision, completely lost in your divinity, Yoongi held you by the neck, the little strength he used being enough to expand your smile and, without exchanging any words, without breaking that sublime silence, Yoongi gently kissed you, guiding you towards a new adventure alongside him.

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who pays e v e r y t h i n g. there was nothing in this world that Yoongi couldn’t buy for you. you want that house right by the beach? it’s already in your name. a trip to Rome with your friend? tickets can be picked up tomorrow. you need to go to the moon to take a deep breath? Yoongi would personally take you there and wait until you were ready to return. everything you wanted, everything you needed. it was something very common in these relationships between sugar-daddies and sugar-babies, but Yoongi made everything much more special. it was unnecessary for you to say that you wanted that wallet, or how much you wanted to go see that play. Yoongi got to know you. being by your side for so long Yoongi could see in all your expressions and omissions what you really needed. money, clothes, house rent, even a simple chocolate from the gas station. when Yoongi told you everything, he really meant everything. there was nothing in this world that could stop Yoongi from loving yo—

SUGAR-DADDY!YOONGI who maybe shouldn’t have said that word. no. he didn’t want to say that. you have to understand that Yoongi was a person who had difficulty expressing his feelings. what he meant was that there was nothing in this world that would stop him from treating you well. because you made him feel good. that was it, there was nothing else. you have to believe in him. Yoongi knew perfectly well that your relationship was based on exchanging affection in different ways – that was why he had chosen you among so many other. Yoongi knew perfectly well that all the nights you spent with him, caressing the skin that no one saw, kissing the spots that no one knew existed, all your caresses and all your kisses were contractual. Yoongi didn’t want to say that, Yoongi didn’t want to love you. he simply… “i’m sorry, i said it without thinking. don’t pay too much attention to what i said. i think we both know how bad i am with words. just… don’t be scared. don’t go away. please…”

[kateschi]

princesses explode things too!

synopsis: katsuki is tasked with the bedtime story today, and he shows you and your daughter his own version of a princess story.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: princess bakugou when

the quiet hum of the night settles over your home, and as you lean against the doorframe of your daughter’s bedroom, you can’t help but smile.

inside, katsuki sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, glaring down at the open storybook in his lap as if it’s personally insulted him.

"alright, brat," he grumbles, his voice low and rough as he tries to keep it from waking her up. "you wanted a story, so listen up. we’ve got a badass queen, explosions, and—"

your daughter, tucked under the covers with wide, eager eyes, interrupts him, her small voice cutting through the intensity of his storytelling. "papa, I want a princess story!"

bakugou’s brow furrows, his signature scowl deepening. "a princess story? that’s lame. why would you want a princess when you can have a warrior queen blowing things up?"

"princesses can fight too!" she insists, her tiny fists balled up in determination, a spark in her eyes that reminds you of her father.

you stifle a laugh, watching the interaction unfold. katsuki, in all his gruffness, isn’t built for soft, fluffy stories. still, he’s trying.

"fine," he mutters, flipping a page aggressively.

"once upon a time, there was a queen. but she wasn’t some weakling waiting to be saved, got it? she had explosions in her hands, just like me, and she blew up anyone who tried to mess with her."

your daughter giggles, her smile wide as she squirms under the blankets. "she had explosions?!"

"yeah, yeah," katsuki waves her off, but his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile.

"and she didn’t need any stupid prince to save her either. she took down a dragon by herself—boom!" he claps his hands together for emphasis, making your daughter laugh even harder.

you take the opportunity to step further into the room, catching katsuki’s attention. his eyes soften the moment he sees you, though his grumpy expression remains firmly in place.

"everything going alright in here?" you tease, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall.

he shoots you a look, his tone sarcastic.

"yeah, just perfect. you will be the death of me, kid," he mutters under his breath, but you notice the way he gently brushes a strand of hair from d/n’s face, his touch almost tender despite the rough words.

your daughter beams up at you. "mama, papa’s telling me a princess story! but she’s really strong, and she blows things up!"

you raise an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. "sounds intense. shouldn’t this be a bedtime story?"

katsuki sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "I’m trying, alright? but she keeps asking for princesses. what am I supposed to do?"

you chuckle softly, moving closer to the bed as katsuki grumbles under his breath. "maybe you should throw in a castle or two. something soft to balance out the explosions?"

katsuki rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, turning back to your daughter, who’s still gazing up at him with adoration.

"fine. the warrior queen had a giant, unbreakable castle. but instead of waiting around inside, she’d climb to the top and jump off it like a badass—"

"katsuki!" you scold, lightly tapping his arm. "that’s not calming."

your daughter, however, is delighted, giggling uncontrollably at the idea. "like a pro-hero! like you, daddy!"

he shoots you a smug grin, clearly proud of himself for entertaining her. "see? she loves it."

with a playful sigh, you sink down on the bed beside them. "alright, let’s compromise. maybe after she jumps off the castle, she finds a... magical garden with flowers and—"

"and traps!" katsuki adds, smirking as he leans into the story again. "where she fights off anyone dumb enough to step foot in it. but she doesn’t get scratched ‘cause she’s too fast."

your daughter is practically bouncing now, excitement filling the room as she claps her hands together. "she sounds so cool!"

"of course she is!" katsuki boasts. he glances over at you, his expression softening a bit. "but after all that, she finally goes to sleep. ‘cause even the strongest queens need to rest, right?"

your daughter yawns as if on cue, her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts to stay awake. "right..." she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blankets.

you exchange a look with katsuki, both of you smiling as she finally gives in to sleep. katsuki leans down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling the covers up to her chin.

as you both stand and quietly make your way out of the room, katsuki glances at you with a grin. "told you my version would work."

you hum with a roll of your eyes before asking, "by the way, who is the badass queen?"

he looks at you. "you, obviously," he says, rolling his eyes before smirking. "my very badass wife."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 1— For The First Time.

a/n: welcome to the Be My Baby series! i’m super excited to get started and work on this story! I’m thinking of publishing 2/3 chapters weekly if I can, but at least 1 will always come out. If additional ones are on the way i’ll make sure to update that on my upcoming post. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this lol. I will later and edit any details that need touching up. This is already a few hours late tho, so I want to go ahead and get it out.)

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, bed humping, fingering (r receiving), teasing, talks of shoe humping, spit play, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, and masturbation (both)

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice, Leah making a fool of herself when she’s in shock, flirty!Leah deserves a warning on its own so here you go, calling reader a bitch & slutty once in a dominating way, semi-public sex, almost getting caught by Alessia, Leah accidentally knocking you on your ass lol

synopsis: You've arrived to your first day at Arsenal; your new club for the foreseeable future as head Athletic Trainer. A new country with promises of a new start awaits for you...until a familiar face disrupts your plans and throws you head first into a whirlwind of emotions and actions.

word count: 3.4k

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The crisp air of Shenley lites a whispered chill to cover you as you step out of the taxi. You pay the driver, wishing him a good day as you collect your bags from the cab. A deep breath makes its way from your chest and out your lips, gathering your bearings as you finally start to make your way inside. This is going to be a fresh start in a place no one knows you– exactly what you need. No expectations to meet or lingering gazes on and off the pitch. No drama or gossip floating around or eating lunch by yourself. Things are going to be different here.

You take in the scenery as you approach the Sobha Realty Training Centre, your new place of employment. The building feels like it’s going to swallow you, the tall white walls reminding you of the hospital as a familiar churn starts to turn in your stomach.

Breathe. Everything is going to be fine.

Your hand comes up to open the door, but it’s pulled from your grasp. You look up, eyes meeting a warm smile and kind eyes. You relax at her appearance, and even more at her friendly approach, “Hi, I’m Alessia! You must be Y/N, I assume?”

You find yourself mirroring her smile, a hand coming out to shake hers. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Alessia! Sorry I’m late– I got lost and then I just ended up taking a taxi….London is a lot bigger than I expected…” you trail off as you realize you're rambling. Embarrassment sinking in as you look down to the floor.

“You’re totally fine! I think we all got lost on our first day, haha. That’s why I’m here to show you around, this place is huge when you don’t know it. Now follow me, new girl!” and just like that, she’s showing you everywhere possible. She shows you the cafeteria, weight rooms, bathrooms, locker rooms, and just about every tiny place to hide if you need a moment to yourself.

“I don’t mean to sound rude– but shouldn’t you be out on the field training with the others? Showing me around can’t possibly be more important with the Euro Finals coming up,” you say as you arrange your med bag for practice. The rest of your things are now stored in your brand new Arsenal locker you were shown, your name enraged into the gold plate marking your future. She laughs at that, pointing down towards her ankle that you now see is wrapped up. “Sprained it a week ago, so i’m benched. Swelling is still up so Coach won’t let me play on it yet, not even at practice.”

A laugh now comes out of you at her frustrated tone near the end. “Well, I have to agree. Until the swelling and all pain is gone you need to let it properly heal. We don’t need you hurting it worse!”

You feel a shove to your shoulder at that, zipping up your pack as you turn towards her now.

“Spoken like the true new head AT! See you're falling into place here already,” You give a shove back to her shoulder. Careful to do it lightly and not push her off balance with her injury. “Ready to meet the girls?”

You let out a sigh before nodding your head, “If they're all as nice as you I think I’ll be just fine.” And then you two are off, Alessia leading the way to your new team. You can feel your hands sweating as you get closer to the field in sight. All the girls training, the coaches, the other medical trainers under your watch…it’s all facing you at once as the past leaves your mind step by step. Like the shedding of skin on a snake, you're letting your anxieties fall from you as your passion for the job kicks back in. Like a flicker of flame– just waiting to ignite higher.

Your confidence is gaining with every blade of grass that passes beneath your feet. You know you're good at this. Hell you’re fucking amazing at this. Not many trainers could switch clubs– let alone countries for said club, in the middle of a season and still be Head AT…but you are that good. No matter what might’ve happened in Barcelona, you’re going to make sure you thrive here in London.

Well that is until your eyes meet hers. It’s like the wind gets knocked out of your chest– hers quite literally. The blonde’s eyes stay on yours, a furrowed brow taking over her face as she keeps running blind. Until she smacks face first into the goal post at full force, bright hair tumbling to the ground in a loud, harsh collapse. Your feet work faster than your brain, running over and immediately separating her from the net. You’re assessing her body, eyes frantically searching for any blood, bruises, cuts, or abnormalities. Your hands come to her ankles, pressing down as you look up at her face. “Does anything hurt? Stay lying down right now, your adrenaline might be blocking it out!”

“I'm Leah!” It’s rushed out, loud and with a voice crack. Her wide eyes staring up at you as she snaps a hand over her mouth afterwards.

If her teammates weren’t laughing before– they definitely are now.

A blush overtakes your cheeks as you put an arm around her waist, hoisting her to stand up with you. She throws one of hers around your shoulders as she regains her balance. “I’m taking her to the Med Room! Want to be sure she doesn’t have a concussion!”

You’re practically dragging her at this point, racing to get somewhere private because what in the actual fuck. "I'm Leah," She repeats her words from the field. "Yeah, I fucking know that!" you snap lightly on her. Mind still racing as you drag her down the building for a more private place to fully speak without worry. There is no way this is happening! Not to you– NOT NOW!! You push the Med Room door open with your back, and sit Leah up on the bed as you finally create some distance between you two. An accusing finger launching itself towards her as you move back to the middle of the room, “SINCE WHEN DO YOU PLAY FOOTBALL?”

“Nice to see you again, too, darling,” She’s smiling at you. That same one that got you hooked in Ibiza and agreeing to spend three weeks with a stranger. You almost get lost in it again– but you start shaking your head. “Oh no! No, no, no– don’t you darling me right now! How could you not tell me your-” your hand comes to pull at the band around her arm, “CAPTAIN! Of one of the best teams in all of Europe? And after spending all that time alone together, really?”

“First of all, we are not one of, we are the best in the world– thank you. Second of all, I don’t remember us talking much when we were together, if I can be honest. My mind tends to remember the more important details,” she licks her lips as she says it, eyes racking over your body as she recalls the memories to her mind. “And third of all, I don’t exactly remember you telling me you’re the highest paid AT in the sports field, so I guess we both kept some secrets. Huh, darling?”

“You are insufferable," you say as you take out your tiny flashlight, checking the reflexes of her pupils with it.

“Oh but that’s not what you were saying during those few weeks we spent together.”

“Leah!” Your face scrunches up as your fists ball up at your sides. Giving her the best glare you can muster up.

“Y/N! Don’t do your face like that– it’ll get stuck,” a laugh breaks out of her mouth as she says it. Poking at your face to relax your muscles there.

“Can you be serious for like two seconds, this is bad!” You rub your hands down your face. Trying to relieve the headache starting to form between your eyes.

"Oh calm down, would you! No one knows, okay? I didn't tell anyone about our time together. I swear!" She sticks her pinky out towards you, and you somehow find yourself laughing back this time as you extend your own to interlock with hers. It's then you know you've messed up. Her skin lights yours up the same way it did a year ago— you two hidden away on the tropical Spanish paradise. Days were spent exploring the island and endless nights spent exploring each other's bodies.

You don't even notice how close you two have drifted until her thighs are closing in around your middle, trapping you against the medical bed and her upper body. Your face flushes as you freeze in place, brain already too fuzzy for you to register that you should pull away. You can’t stop thinking back now– flashes of memories whizzing by in your head as you zone out, eyes lingering on her lips subconsciously. She must think that’s an invitation, because after a few seconds one of her hands comes to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. You kiss her back at first, chasing the spark that ignites from her lips.

But then you remember where you are, and more importantly why you are even here. You got to pull away, hands coming up to her chest to push and create some space. She doesn’t budge though, a tiny moan slipping from your lips as you remember the depths of her strength. She smiles into the kiss at that, and you take the opportunity to breathe the words out against her lips. “Le-Leah we shouldn’t be d-doing this. We c-can’t…”

Her other hand tickles the waistband of your shorts, a light chuckle vibrating her chest as she pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I think we both know you want this more than me. Don’t you, darling? Otherwise you wouldn’t be humping the edge of the bed like a bitch in heat.”

You look down, not even realizing how you'd started rubbing your covered cunt against the medical bed. Your hips stutter to a stop as you try to back away from the cot, embarrassment filling your body at her catching you red handed. A finger lifts your chin up as her eyes lock to yours, a chill running down your spine as you cling to her every move. She runs her hand still sitting at your waist down to your hip, slipping under your shorts as goosebumps break out across your skin from her touch. “Don’t get shy on me, now. Not after I’ve seen you cum from grinding on a shoe.”

“Okay! Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do it– no DEMAND it!” you move closer, pointing your finger into her chest now as you argue the claim.

“Mhm you’re right, Y/N…but you’re the one that did it. Got down on your knees,” she grips the hair at the back of your neck as she yanks your head back. “And rubbed your slutty pussy all over my Louboutins until you ruined them with your cum.” She brings her face down closer to yours, “Now open your fucking mouth.”

You do as she says, and you're met with a glob of her spit landing on your tongue. You swallow it before she even has to tell you, groaning out as you thank her for giving it to you. Her hand on your hip starts slipping around to your front after she feels you grinding forward again, giving you her fingers instead of the small spring mattress. You moan out as soon as they glide across your clit, an electric feeling breaking out across your body. You know this is wrong, and you’ll definitely chastise yourself later…but until then you’re gonna beg her to fuck you.

“Please give me your f-fingers! W-wanna cum for you, Le!” The distantly familiar nickname falls from your lips effortlessly and it fuels a fire inside Leah’s chest. She slides her hand farther into your shorts, instantly slipping two fingers inside of you at the start. Her palm is fitting your clit perfectly, and after a few minutes you can hear the squelching of your pussy from underneath your shorts. You can feel her curling, scissoring, and twisting the fingers inside of your cunt. Your legs are about to shake as you feel your orgasm start to build, moans increasing as your chest rises and falls faster. You can’t focus on anything other than Leah. That’s all your mind can think of: Leah, Leah, Leah…

Thank god she’s paying attention though. Because next thing you know she’s pulling her hand out of your shorts and pushing you back away from her so hard you fall on your ass. You let out a yell of shock as you go tumbling backwards, landing with a pretty loud thud onto the cold tile floor.

Before you can scream at her to explain what the fuck her problem is– the door is swinging open. Alessia barging in as she runs over to Leah. Stopping in her tracks as she almost topples over you. She comes to stop in a screeching halt, sticking a hand out to help you up. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” She says as she drops your hand once you're back standing. “Well if you must know, Leah’s being stubborn and wouldn’t let me sit on the med bed with her because I’m benching her for practice until she gets her head checked by a CT scan.”

“YOU'RE BLOODY WHAT?” She screeches out at the realization.

“See she can’t even remember I already told her that! Definitely needs a ct,” you know you’re lying through your teeth…but fucking with Leah is too fun. No way you were telling her she’s benched when she had you on the verge of the first orgasm you’ve had…well, since the last time you saw her.

“What the hell even happened out there, Leah?” Alessia asks, a laugh busting out of her chest as she recalls the captain’s wipe out.

“I was lost in my head and just..oh god I’m never living this one down am I?”

“Oh god no! You should’ve heard the noise you made when you hit the pole– I've never heard that come out of a human being before, or any living thing for that matter!” She has tears welling up in her eyes now as she recalls the events.

You sneak out as the two blonde’s get lost in their laughs and conversation. The locker room is empty as you collect your things, humming a song under your breath as you make quick work of packing up. You’re walking out to the parking lot when you finally let yourself think of what just happened, fingers coming up to brush against your lips. You find yourself smiling, wiping it off your face when you notice. No, Y/N. Stay professional. This. cannot. happen again. Push it down.

You pull out your phone to order a new cab before a familiar voice grabs your attention. “I’m afraid there aren’t many cabs on this side of town at this time of night. I can give you a ride though. Only if you want, of course…But such a gorgeous girl as yourself? You really shouldn’t be walking home alone.”

You turn, forgetting the words you told yourself not even 5 minutes ago. Nodding your head before you fully process the request. You’re going to be alone in a confined space with her? FUCK. You folded quicker than a lawn chair for the blonde footballer not even 10 full minutes ago….Lord give you strength for this 20 minute drive.

She opens the door for you, holding an intense eye contact as she closes it as well. Her car smells like the leather seats and the piney notes of her perfume. A perfect mix that has you rubbing your thighs together, trying to dull the ache she never got to quell. She climbs into the drivers seat, setting up her aux before she's handing you her phone open onto her maps app.

You quickly type in your new address before the navigation is breaking through the speakers and leading you to your destination. The ride isn't awkward, filled with easily flowing conversation. You're so lost in it you don't even notice you've made it to your flat. Not until the gps is yelling out "Arrived at Destination."

You try to hide your disappointment as you grab your bags, saying a thank you as soon many questions hang in the air between you two. "Can I walk you up? Promise I won't make a move, just want to make sure you get inside okay." She throws her hands up in a defensive mode.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you push down the large part of your brain that is telling you to stop this dynamic. To kill it before it can manifest…but you don't listen to it. You let her take your hand as she walks you into your buildings elevator, and you let her kiss you soft and slow as the floors ding past you both. It's different from any kiss you've shared before, and that kind of scares you.

It scares you even more at your door, where she tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses you like that again. She's kissing you like she has something to prove…you're not quite sure what that is just yet…but you sure as hell want to find out. The first time Leah blew into your life, it was at a time of transformation. It was brief but truly wonderful, and now the universe is sitting her right in fucking front of you for a second time.

She's the first one to pull away from your lips this time. A smile pulling at her lips as she ducks back in to steal one more peck, and then she's backing away slowly. Her hands pulling yours with hers as she tries to leave you as slowly as possible. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You can't help the smile you break out into at the gesture, looking down as you blush slightly from the innocent statement. She's playing with your fingers now, and you're trying to memorize hers for the foreseeable future. "Goodnight, Le. And thank you for today. Always the gentleman…when you want to be."

She pushes your shoulder at that, "Oi! I'm always a gent!"

You blush as you think more about the Ibiza trip, "I would beg to differ."

She genuinely laughs at that, picking your hand up to her mouth to leave a kiss on your knuckles. You say goodnight to each other one last time before she leaves down the hall, watching her disappear into the elevator before you go inside your apartment. You both don't know it yet, but you end up finding the same resolution to your problems tonight.

As you both lay awake drowning in endless thoughts of each other, you can't help but slip a hand into your shorts. You're rubbing at your over sensitive clit, imagining it's Leah as you work yourself up. You haven't had time to buy any toys since you moved here, but you don't need them right now. Not when she's got you so wound up from barely any touch.

Meanwhile the blonde captain is slipping her trusty vibrator between her legs to stimulate her clit, the pretty pictures she has of you from Ibiza currently being viewed in her hand. From the one of you being blind folded in her hotel bed to the one of you bent over the railing of her private yacht— she can't stop the new filthy images of you from popping into her head. She's got to have you again, and not just for sex this time.

Leah hasn't stopped thinking of you since the trip, mind clouded with day dreams of you two creating a life together. She's been laughing it off, thinking she's delusional because she'll never see you again…but that disappears when you come waltzing back into her life. She knows now she can't waste this second chance. No matter how long or what all it takes: Leah Williamson is going to make you her girl.