#and pulling any of them away from the race to the bottom is a very good thing

[amplexadversary]

I wonder if a really dedicated collection of book nerds could get those Elaine Duillo style cover illustrations a foothold in the publishing industry again. There are certainly enough artists who can achieve that level of intricacy that a really really popular Trend might be able to do it.

Perhaps any of those bookbinding hobbyists might want to try to go pro and pair up with an artist to refurbish something well enough to hook the really rich art snobs into buying unique, custom pieces for a fuckton of money.

[missdynamighttt]

imagining your older brother's bestfriend! katsuki bakugo walking in on you... masturbating.

"fucking hell..." you grumbled as the steady thump of music from your brother's party downstairs interrupted your studying.

your brother's parties were usually a messy affair, with plenty of noise and chaos. but lately, he seemed to be throwing them more frequently and with more intensity.

the sound of him and his friends playing beer pong and laughing loudly, the sounds carrying up from upstairs to your ears.

despite your best efforts to ignore the noise and concentrate on studying, the sound of music and loud chatter kept pulling your attention away. you tried blocking it out, focusing on your notes, but it was hard to ignore.

you closed your laptop in frustration, abandoning your efforts to study and grabbed your phone instead. scrolling mindlessly, you eventually came across something that caught your eye.

it was a photo of katsuki bakugo, your brother's best friend, smiling and looking as handsome as ever. his muscles were clearly visible through his tight shirt, and his spiky hair was tousled just right.

seeing him always made your heart race, but this time it was different. you felt heat wash over your body, and a feeling of excitement that you couldn't quite explain.

you couldn't take your eyes off the photo, as if katsuki's beautiful vermillion eyes and his god-like physique was hypnotizing you.

then, you realized.. you were feeling horny.

"shit. whats wrong with me?" you mumbled. but you couldn't resist the urge any longer, let alone fight it. your body was aching with need, who were you to tell it what it should do?

closing your eyes, you stifle a moan as your hand snuck underneath your pants and started to rub your folds in slow, lazy circles.

you huffed, biting your bottom lip as you watch yourself rub your clit through your panties. the other hand abandons your phone, crawling beneath your shirt, moving your bra out of the way to play with your tits, rolling your forefinger and thumb over your nipple.

your thoughts slowly drift to katsuki again, imagining his muscles framing his strong body, what it would be like if it was his hand down your pussy instead of yours.

you couldn't help but let out a loud whimper at the thought of his hands running over your body, his lips on yours. you could almost feel the heat of his touch, as if he were really there in the cramped space of your room, his presence a maddening pressure against your skin.

you let out a soft sigh, your hand moving faster as your imagination ran wild. it was wrong, really wrong. but you couldn't help it. the ache in your body was overwhelming, and you needed release.

the only thing that could make it better was if it was him, not you, imagining him there, his hand, his body, his voice. all there just to take care of your poor, needy little clit.

suddenly, someone pushed open the door without knocking, someone intending to ask you something about the party.

a gasp escapes your lips as the door slammed open, eyes snapping open to see katsuki standing in the doorway. your hands scrambled its way out of your body, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment but there was no denying it.

the sight that greeted him made him freeze in the doorway, his eyes widening in surprise as he realized what he had walked in on. you, on your bed, a flush on your cheeks and your hand very recently hiding beneath your clothes where it wasn't supposed to be.

but katsuki heard you. he didn't want to assume and gets his hopes up, until now. katsuki saw you, masturbating. to a photo of him, no less. and to the thoughts of him fucking you.

he stood there in the doorway, stunned, his eyes fixated on you as you tried in vain to hide what you were doing, hiding evidence he'd already seen.

"shit, 'm sorry.." you mumbled, clearly very embarassed. "i thought the.. door was locked."

katsuki processed your words for a moment before he stepped into the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

"don't worry about it," he leaned against the door, his eyes never leaving yours. "should have knocked."

there was something about the way he was looking at you, a mix of surprise and... something else that made you feel self-conscious. you shifted your legs, clenching down on nothing in an attempt to relieve the aching need inside you.

"wh-what did you need?" you looked up at him, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

he pushed himself off the door, his movements slow as he took a few steps forward. he stopped several feet away from the bed and looked down at you with a hint of amusement.

"wanted to ask you something about the party. but i think there's something more.. important."

his eyes wander over your face and down to your body, lingering on the way your chest rises and falls with each breath. he swallows hard, his jaw tight.

"you looked like you were having a good time," he says, his tone almost teasing.

a hot flush spread across your cheeks, face burning with embarrassment. you dropped your gaze to your knees, unable to face him

"forget about it. didn't mean for you to see..."

katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and dark. his eyes roved over your body, as if taking in the sight of you in a way that made you feel naked, vulnerable.

"m pretty sure i won't be able to forget about it anytime soon."

he took another step forward, a few more inches between you. he sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. he was so close now, you could almost feel the heat radiating off his body.

he reaches out, his hand brushing against your knee, feeling your body tense under his touch. his proximity made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly alive.

"don't be embarrassed. it's normal to have needs."

your breath catches in your throat as his hand touched your knee. the simple touch made your heart race, the shame and embarrassment of being caught in the act evident on your face.

"it's not normal," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "especially for you to see me taking care of my... myself like this..."

katsuki lets out a low chuckle, his hand sliding from your knee up to your thigh.

"well, i'm... not bothered i saw it," he says, his voice a little huskier than usual as he squeezes your thigh gently, his fingers warm against your skin. "it was... quite a show."

you look up at him, and your mind struggles to remember what he had come in for in the first place. he was glad he saw it? how long was he even watching?

"wh-what did you want to ask me about, again?" you managed to say, your eyes locked onto his. you were trying to stay focused, but it was hard with him standing so close, his presence making your mind fuzzy.

katsuki doesn't reply right away,his hand still on your thigh. his expression is unreadable, watching his hand trickle along your thighs in slow, lazy strides before looking back at you.

finally, he seems to remember what he came in to ask. "ah, right. i was wondering if you were coming downstairs," he says, his eyes flicking down to you, his gaze lingering on her form for a moment before returning back up to her face.

"but... i'm not sure i want you to leave anymore."

his eyes flick down to your phone, seeing the picture you had been looking at when he walked in. it's the picture of him, the one that had inspired your... activities.

he looks back up at you, his eyes dark as he lets out a low chuckle, the sound making you shiver. "were you looking at this before i walked in, hm?"

you cursed under your breath, fumbling for your phone to turn it off, your embarrassment painfully obvious, trying to compose yourself.

"shit. shit, that was... i'm sorry. i don't know how it... i didn't mean for you to see that."

katsuki chuckled, a deep, rough sound, his hand still resting on your thigh, squeezing it. "relax. 'm not mad."

he took the phone from your trembling fingers, the brief contact of his fingers on your skin sending goosebumps on your arms, setting it down on the bedside table with a soft thud. "in fact," he continued, his voice lowering. "i'm intrigued."

he leaned in closer, his body nearly flush with yours, his hand sliding further up your thigh until it was barely hovering above the hem of your shorts. a shudder ran through your body at his touch, sending tingles down your spine.

"you..." he asked, his hand stopping at your inner thigh. "were getting turned on by me, perv?"

your breath stuttered as he began to move his hand in lazy, repetitive circles against your crotch, the sensation making your body tingle with need. was this really happening?

for a moment, you wanted to tell him to stop. but why? you wanted this. you needed this. you needed to finish what he interrupted and he was willingly offering to help you. so, fuck it. you liked it anyway.

clinging to him, your face flushed with an intense heat, your body reacting to his touch. "fuck... y-yeah."

katsuki's eyes narrow, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. his presses a thumb against the thin fabric of your shorts, feeling your damp panties against him, your mewls sending vibrations down his hand.

"were you, really?" he leans in even closer, his face just inches from yours. "thinkin' of me, all alone up here in your bed, touchin' yourself to me?"

you nodded slowly, a soft whimper escaping your lips. your fingers clenched at his shirt, body trembling against him as you feel your warm, wet cunny flutter from his touch.

katsuki shifted his hand, his fingers wandering higher on the waistband of your panties, getting his hand down your shorts.

"and what, exactly, were you thinking i'd be doing to you?"

a soft moan escaped your lips when he starts tracing slow patterns on the sensitive skin of your bare folds. your head lolling back in response, your body arches into him, wanting more of him.

"your hands... how good they'd make me feel, all over me..."

"my hands, on you? touchin' you, explorin' your body, makin' this pretty pussy feel good?"

you nodded eagerly, face flushed as your panted, body shivering with pleasure of his hands on you, rubbing your poor, needy clit.

"yes... wait.." you bit your lip, your mind attempting to shift through your hazy thoughts, eyes looking up at him.

"sh-shit, you're supposed to be downstairs..." you reminded him. "won't my brother notice you're gone..?"

he scoffs, brushing your hair behind your ear, his hand gentle on your face but firm in between your legs. "don't give a fuck," he says, his voice gruff.

"right now, the only thing i care about is you."

he leaned in closer, his body pressing against yours, the heat of his presence almost overwhelming. he seemed to be completely focused solely on you, his hands roaming over your body, exploring the curves and soft skin beneath his touch.

"besides," he says, his hand starts to move harder on your wet cunny. "your brother can handle one shitty party without me. i have something i need to take care of right here."

his calloused fingers assault on your clit with fast rubs, teasing your wet hole. he groans, feeling his dick get hard watching you squirm.

"oh, you like that, hm?" he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr. "you like the way i play with this fuckin' cunt, huh?"

another whimper of pleasure escapes you when you feel his finger dip into your folds, your head tilting back as you cling onto him. "yes, fuck, yes... feels better than i imagined..."

he hums, his hands continuing to wander over your body. he leans in, his lips brush against your ear. "y'know, i've been imaginin' this too..."

breath hitching at his words, your eyes lock onto his, your chest heaving with each pant as katsuki rubs your throbbing clit silly.

"yeah?" you murmur, the thought of him actually thinking about this too was insane. too good to be real.

the thought of him, maybe jerking his dick off to your pretty face, imagining all the ways he'd make you feel... it was enough to make your velvet walls clench down on nothing, the sensation painful by the second.

"yeah," he nods slowly, putting a finger in between your folds, spreading them to tease the pulsating hole gushing with your slick. "been thinking about this for a while now.... you have no fuckin' idea how hard it's been to keep my hands off you."

"it's been torture, y'know. seein' you around, knowin' i can't have you the way i want you."

katsuki pressed his lips to the tender skin of your neck, his breath coming out in puffs. his lips leave a trail of kisses from your neck to your collarbone, possessive and with tender care.

"but not anymore. tonight, i'm gonna do exactly what i've been dreamin' about."

"katsuki..." you whimpers his name, your voice a soft, needy sound. you clutch at his shoulders, your entire body trembling with need.

his words were like an invitation, the whispered plea to take care of you like he's wanted to do for so long making you gasp. "please... please, katsuki... make me feel good."

he grins with a predatory gleam in his eye. "with fuckin' pleasure."

he stands up to pull away from you, his body towering over yours. he stands there for a moment, just looking down at you, admiring the sight of you looking all vulnerable. he reaches behind your ass, patting it softly.

"lift your legs up f'me, sweet girl."

your heart pounds in your chest, but eagerly lifts your legs up, spreading them a little. you're completely at his mercy now. you've never felt more vulnerable yet so, so fucking horny.

katsuki kneels down, his hands sliding up your thighs again, tracing patterns on your skin. "so soft..."

he tugged gently on your shorts along with your panties, his fingers tracing along the bare skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps along his path. "these are in the fuckin' way.."

he tossed your clothes aside with a flick of his wrist, letting them fall somewhere lost in the room.

you were left there, legs bare and exposed, the cold air caressing your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. you felt shy, cheeks flushing with embarassment and desire.

but even in the cold air, katsuki thought you looked absolutely gorgeous, every inch of your body on display for him and his gaze alone.

katsuki was struck speechless, his jaw slack as he drinks in the sight of you, his eyes darkening with desire.

"you're so damn beautiful.. so eager, too" he murmured, his thumb trailing down to your wet slit. "but we gotta be quiet, okay? party's still going on down stairs."

a huff escaped your lips as you tried to pout, but it only served to highlight your lips in a subtle way. you knew katsuki had a point, but you still couldn't help but feel a little annoyed.

"meanie," you muttered under your breath. "how am i supposed to be quiet when you're doing thi—"

"shhh," he shushes you, his finger brushing against your lips as his thumb slowly goes in and out of your hole. "you know we have to keep it down, or your brother will hear. don't want him comin' up here, do you?"

"fine.." you pouted at him, clearly annoyed as you looked up at him.

your tongue darted out, licking and then lightly biting his finger on your lips, drawing it into your mouth with hungry motions. your eyes never left his, your gaze full of defiance and unabashed want.

a smirk tugged at the corners of katsuki's lips as he watched your lips wrap around his finger, the sight and feeling enough to send a bolt of heat through his body. he could see the hunger in your gaze, and it only intensified the need building up within him.

he pulls his finger out of your mouth with a pop, leaving you with a small gasp. "is that supposed to be an apology for callin' me a meanie?"

raising an eyebrow, a soft smile plays at the corners of your lips. "maybe. did you like it?"

he chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "i'd be lyin' if i said i didn't. but you know what i'd like more?"

katsuki moved his hand, his fingers trailing down your warm cunnt, slowly putting a digit inside of you, rubbing your throbbimg clit with his thumb.

"this pretty little thing right here," he murmured, his fingers slowly curling inside of your walls, exploring your sweet spots. "all wrapped around my dick."

a soft gasp escaped you as he continued to curl his fingers inside you, the sensations coursing through your body, making you writhe beneath him. it just felt so good, your body was responding to his touch in ways you couldn't control.

"but i gotta get you ready, okay?" he loved how responsive you were, how your body reacted to him. he continued to tease you, his fingers still softly running through your wet walls, the gummy skin beneath it growing warmer with every pass. it only fueled his own need. "need you all nice and wet f'me first.."

you bit your bottom lip, trying to muffle the soft moans that kept slipping out as your hips squirmed against him, seeking friction and more of the wonderful sensations he was making you feel.

"it... it feels so good," you mumbled, biting your bottom lip to stifle a moan. "don't stop, katsuki.."

he loved how you sounded, breathless and needy under his touch. his fingers continued its pace inside you, moving slowly, as if trying to edge you closer and closer to the release you so desperately longed for.

he could tell how much you were enjoying this, could tell how desperately you wanted more. and he was more than happy to give it to you.

"i won't. i could do this all night."

your gaze flicks down to the spot where he was most vulnerable: his aching boner. it looked so big. so hard. so painful. you just had to help him, right? you looked back up at him, your bottom lip caught in between your pearly whites.

"can i.. can i touch you? can i make you feel good, too?"

katsuki took a sharp breath at your request, his body tensing slightly in anticipation. he was torn between wanting to give in to your touch, to know what it feels like and wanting to be in control, to see you crumbling apart all for him.

eventually, though, his desire for you won out. "yeah. you can touch me."

you hesitated for a moment, unsure what to expect. he looked big, sure. but what if you squeezed it too hard or something? what if he hated it?

katsuki continued to watch you, his own desire growing as he thought about what you might do next. but it was obvious you were nervous. "go ahead, pretty. don't be shy."

you nodded, taking a deep breath as your hand trembled slightly, reaching out towards him. you gently placed your hand down his boxers, feeling his hard cock trapped in his clothes, aching with warmth only you could fix.

katsuki groaned softly at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he felt the warmth and softness of your hands envelop his cock.

he feels his breathing growing shallower as you explored him. he wasn't used to being touched like this, but the way your hands felt on him was making him want more. of this. of you.

he reached out to take your other hand, his large fingers intertwining with yours as if to reassure you. "just relax. you're doin' great. keep goin'."

your eyes met his gaze, a hot flush spreading across your cheeks as you continued to move your hands down his pants. while he has his hands down yours.

"this is so..." you swallowed, your voice catching whimpers in your throat. "...so lewd."

"yeah," his murmured, watching you react to him. "fuckin' lewd."

"but you like it, don't you?"

you couldn't even deny it. he was right. making each other feel good... and the thought that he'd rather be with you instead of a stupid party downstairs.. you were enjoying this.

"mhm.. y-yeah."

katsuki's smile widened as he heard your admission. it pleased him, very much, to know that you were enjoying this as much as he was.

"good," he pants, his breath hitching when you start to stroke his cock faster. "because i plan on doing.. a lot more than this."

his hand holding yours lets you go, moving to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. he was enjoying this far more than he’d expected, every second pulling him deeper into the moment.

the sight of you like this— it was intoxicating. and what made it even better? knowing he was the only one who got to see you like this, raw and vulnerable, just for him.

"fuck.. fuck, you're so beautiful.." his words were filled with such awe and sincerity, he almost sounded like he was yearning. yearning for the taste of you. what you'd feel like around him, clenching down on his cock instead of his fingers.

your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. instead, you let out a soft, breathless laugh, trying to play it off.

“don’t... say things you don’t mean,”

"hey," he panted, his voice low and steady, laced with a softness you couldn't ignore. "look at me."

you couldn't ignore the gentle command in his voice, and slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his. "what..?"

his thumb brushed across your cheekbone, the touch gentle but firm as his fingers continued to play with your warm insides.

"i meant what i said. you're... the most beautiful thing i've ever seen."

you let out a soft whimper, his words and touches starting to stir something inside you. the only thing that was keeping you grounded was keeping your hands occupied, stroking him, thumbing at his tip leaking with white pre.

"stop that," you protested, your voice a soft, breathless plea.

a low chuckle rumbled in his throat, drinking in every reaction and twitch of your body you couldn’t conceal, beating his fingers deeper into you. "why should i stop, hm?"

you gasped aloud at the feel of his digits pressing into your cervix, feeling the heat and strength of him. "b-because.."

"because what?" katsuki pants, his breathing shallow from the way you stroke his cock. how could he have it all? how could he sweet talk to you like this and finger you like pro? "sh-shit, you feel so good, god.."

you let out a strangled sob, your body arching instinctively into his as you felt the evidence of his desire on your folds, his pre all over your clit. the friction between them was exquisite, sending shudders through your entire being.

"b-because..." you tried again, struggling to articulate your thoughts. "because... it's embarrassing.."

his lips curled into a smirk at the sound of your breathless whispers and gasps. it was like music to his ears. he loved how you couldn't seem to keep yourself under control.

his mouth hovers a mere millimeter from the skin of your neck, before taking a nibble out of the supple skin. "s-so what? i like it when you’re.. embarrassed."

"shut uppp," you whine, tears of pleasure spilling from your eyes as his fingers fuck you harder. "katsukiii.. im.. close.."

the sound of his name slipping from your lips, breathless and almost desperate, caused his heart to leap in his chest and desire to flare hotly within him.

katsuki couldn't take his eyes off of you, your head thrown back, eyes glossy of how good he makes you feel, your words a plea. he wanted to tease you, to make things last, but he was just as close as you were.

“me too,” he growled, groaning as he bucks his hips into your fist. "fuck, i want you.. so bad, it fuckin' hurts.."

"katsukiii," you whimper, voice shaky and broken by sobs. his name is the only word you can form, the only plea you can make. "i'm... i'm..."

he can see it in your eyes, the way your body quivers beneath his touch, begging for release. your voice, shaky and broken, is the sweetest sound he's ever heard, and he knows he's close too.

katsuki's hand continues to move, slowly sliding across your folds before settling on the smooth skin of your clit, rubbing it feverishly.

he knew exactly what you needed, what you both needed.

"i know," he whispers, his voice a breathless growl. "i know. just cum for me, sweet girl, c'mon."

your body tenses at his words, your breath hitching in your throat at the feel of his fingers reaching your sweetest spot.

you let out a soft, guttural moan, your body arching against his as you lose yourself in the waves of pleasure that crash through you, painting his fingers white.

he feels your body tense, face buried in the crook of his neck as you cling to him, shuddering and writhing against him as you ride out your high, and it's almost too much for him to take.

"f-fuck," katsuki groans, bucking his hips into your hand one last time before spurting ropes of cum on your pussy, thick and sticky all over you.

his hand pulls away from the tight hold of your cunt, gently putting your hand away from his now soft cock. he held you close, the both of you trembling in the aftermath.

feeling you shiver in his arms, your breath slowly beginning to even out, your face buried in his neck, is the most satisfying feeling he's ever experienced.

he gently runs his hand along your back, soothing you and trying to bring you back down to earth. he slowly pulls back, his body still close to yours with his arms still wrapped around you.

he can't help but smile at the sight of you, flushed and panting, your hair mussed up and your eyes half-lidded. he reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "you okay, pretty?"

you slowly opened your eyes, nodding shakily, your breaths starting to even out as you slowly come back to earth. you can still feel the aftershocks of the orgasm rippling through your body, making your limbs feel deliciously heavy and boneless.

"y-yeah. i'm okay. just... i just need a second. that was..." you trail off, not quite sure how to put into words the intensity of what just happened.

he chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. he loves the way you look right now, all flushed and breathless, and he can't help but feel a sense of pride that he's the cause of it.

"yeah, that was.." he trails off, his words escaping him as well. he glances at the top of your head before giving it a soft, lingering kiss. "you were amazing, by the way."

your face flushes hot again as you lift your head from the crook of his neck, your eyes meeting his, a playful grin spreading across your face. "you were pretty amazing too. even if you made a mess all over me."

you glance back down at the gooey mess katsuki made at your folds, feeling his creamy slick ooze down there to your thighs.

katsuki barks out a laugh, the sound rough and amused as his eyes roam over your face. "and who's fault is that, huh?"

his gaze drops down to examine the mess he made, before reaching for his hand that was down your cunny, licking his fingers clean, tasting your sweet slick on his tongue. "don't act like you didn't make a fuckin' mess too..."

you watch him lick his fingers with an almost unbearably seductive ease, feeling embarassed just watching him. "shut up. don't pretend that you didn't like it."

"oh, i definitely liked it," he purrs, enjoying your bashful response. "and i'll have you know that i liked a lot of things we just did."

he reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly gentle. "shit... you really are a sight when you're like this, y'know that?"

you glance up at him and scoff, your embarrassment evident as you avoid his gaze. but before you can say another word, the music from the party begins to fade. your brother's party was coming to an end.

the realization hits you— your older brother would soon be looking for katsuki.

he realized that the night was winding down as well. he knew that he'd have to face your brother soon, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought.

katsuki reaches out, gently tilting your chin up so that you're looking at him. "i guess that means i'm gonna have to let you go now, huh?"

you look up at him, biting your bottom lip, and give a small, subtle nod, too bashful to voice how disappointed you were at the thought of him leaving.

he notices the tiny bite on your lip, and he can't help but feel a flicker of something warm in his chest at the sight. his hand moves to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, freeing it from between your teeth. "trust me, i don't want to leave too."

you scoff, rolling your eyes as you try to play it cool, acting like it didn’t matter whether he stayed or not. still, your nerves get the better of you as you gently bite down on his thumb. "then don’t go. text my brother that you already left or something..."

he laughs at your attempt to appear nonchalant, your actions betraying what you reallt wanted. he can feel how much you wanted him to stay as you gently bite down on his thumb, and it only fuels his own desire to stay. "you're askin' me to lie to your brother, huh?"

you roll your eyes, your teeth sinking into his thumb with a little harder. "oh, please. it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him."

he winces slightly as you bite down on his thumb, his smirk giving way to a wry chuckle. "fair enough.'

his thumb slips out of your mouth, his hand resting against the side of your neck instead. "you're a bad influence, y'know that?"

"and all this time i thought you were just my best friend's sweet, cute little sister."

"all i heard was sweet and cute, thanks."

he scoffs and rolls his eyes, shaking his head but still unable to hide a smile. "tch, smartass."

you lock eyes with him, the connection electric, as the both of you lean in slowly, the world around you seeming to fade. just as your lips are about to meet his, the sound of footsteps reaches your ears—your brother's voice calling out to katsuki, drawing you both back to reality in an instant.

panic flashes across your face, and in a rush, you both scramble to get dressed, fumbling with your clothes as you try to hide any trace of what just happened.

katsuki hastily throws his shoes on, and your eyes dart nervously toward the window. without a word, you push it open, offering him a quick escape.

he glances back at you, his expression unreadable, and just before he climbs out, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

its affectionate, its sudden, but it sends a spark through your chest, leaving your heart racing and a warmth spreading across your face amidst the cold air from the window.

after that, katsuki leans in once more, his lips grazing yours before he whispers. “i’ll text you, okay? don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily."

but before you could respond, his lips found yours again, this time more insistently, a rush of warmth flooding through you. he pulled away just enough to glance at you, his gaze full of mischief.

"i'm serious, pretty," he murmured, placing another quick kiss on your lips, his hands lingering on your waist.

you laugh softly, the sound light despite the tension between them, pushing him gently towards the window.

“you’re ridiculous,” you laugh as he attacks you with kisses, unable to hide the smile on your lips. “gooo, before my brother comes in here looking for you."

katsuki smirks, catching your lips in another kiss, this one more lingering, more desperate. "promise me you'll text back."

you chuckle, shaking your head but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "yes, yes, i promise. now go, before i change my mind."

reluctantly, he pulls away, planting one last lingering kiss on your forehead, looking at you longingly and brushing your hair behind your ear. "i’ll text you, i promise."

and with that, he slipped out of the window and disappeared into the night. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. the sound of your brother’s knock on the door snaps you back to reality.

you brother opens the door, peeking out of your room for a bit. "hey, did you see bakugo anywhere?"

you force a calm smile, hoping your heart isn't pounding too loudly.

"no, i haven’t seen him."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ part two smau ! ]

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ ohmygosh!! finally!! im done!! this was so stressful to write but so fun, i hope you enjoyed it!! lemme know if youre interested for a part two^^ anyway, here are the tags: @thatone16216 @spltbtch @katsuisbaby @natsukicookies @dragonscribble @katsucookies @r11k4

[bananafieldnotes]

warmth

content disclosure: smut, black!reader, fem!reader x smoke, language

author’s note: just a quick little smoke sunday blurb i wrote on the fly :-) somewhat inspired by warmth by janet jackson

“S-Smoke—”

“C’mon, baby, you know that’s not my name.” His left hand gripped beneath your thigh tighter, yanking your body down the bed and closer to him as his hips picked up their pace. The slow, delicious rhythm of his hips was driving you crazy, teasing you with the idea of a release that would never come. Your legs were at the mercy of Smoke, one folded in his palm and the other tucked around his hip. The tip of his dick kissing your cervix just enough to take your breath away, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Smoke kissed down to the base of your neck. “Don’t get shy now, hm? What’s my name, baby?”

Your body was on fire, and Smoke had lit the match. Every now and then, Smoke would come home positively insatiable. He’d look at you, sweeping your body from head to toe like he was memorizing every bend and scratch and curve; like he was trying to discern if you’d changed since he’d left that morning, only to discover you were the same. The same beautiful, intoxicating, heavenly woman who he’d left wrapped in your shared bedsheets, hair free and skin glistening with the sweat of the Mississippi heat. He'd never learned to resist you and he sure wasn’t gonna learn to now. 

“Elijah!”

Where he began and you ended, neither of you knew. All that mattered was the way he bit at your earlobe, growling his approval straight into your ear. “Mmm.” He sighed with pleasure, pride swelling in his chest at how pliable you were. How you bend to his every whim or will. How you trusted him. You were his. The primal instinct the very thought ignited in him drove him to kiss you, abandoning his hold on your leg to cradle the back of your neck. His lips hovered over yours tracing the shape of your mouth, breathing in the air you exhaled as your hearts raced in sync. Like he was savoring the moment just before your lips pressed together, relishing in the climb that came before the crash. 

He shivered, swallowing the sighs of pleasure that dripped out of you as you fought to kiss him back. Any words he wanted to speak were coiled at his throat, paralyzed by the glory of kissing you. Tongues dancing around one another as your nails clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. The sticky slick of his skin made him inseparable from you, enmeshing you two as one. He couldn’t get enough, and you couldn’t stop giving. 

And suddenly, time moved again. The urgency with which he moved before was back lighting a fire beneath him, and his unquenchable thirst was back in his throat. You nearly flinched as his hands flew to your hips, pulling them up just enough to change the angle— and your body jolted. Blinding, white hot ecstasy shot through your veins as his thrusts washed over your sweet spot, your jaw dropping open in rapture. It was too much and not enough all at once. 

“Look how pretty you are, all fucked out for me,” A kiss to your jaw, your nose, and a taunting tug at your bottom lip. You could still taste yourself on him. “Give it to me.” 

Your eyes fluttered open, tears flowing down the sides of your face. He always looked so handsome when he was fucking you. The furrow of his brows, the sweat dotting his hairline, the flush across his chest. The way his skin bloomed copper beneath the surface, like he became a God of love and desire when he was inside of you. This look in his eyes that made you quiver from its eroticism. It strikes you with awe every time you see it, every time he makes love to you. He’s the smoke that thunders. 

His lips locked with yours as the coil of tension brewing inside you snapped, your legs wrapping around him in a vice grip. “Fuck, Elijah, I—” The name rolled off your tongue like molasses, sticky and slow against the crescendo of your chest. Heartbeat thudding in your ears as the edges of the world fade away, the murmur of Smoke’s sweet nothings bringing you back to earthliness. The breeze of the wind through the leaves. The chirping of birds echoing through the humid air. The plush security of the mattress around you. The caress of Smoke’s lips on your throat peppering wet kisses to the tender skin. Floating from euphoria and back. 

“How you feelin’, baby?” His thumbs brushed back and forth over whatever part of you he could reach, cock still wedged between your legs as your breathing started to even out. 

You cracked a grin, cheeks raised and rounded as your eyes landed on his. “You didn’t cum,” The drowsiness was lifting from you as your hand snaked between your bodies, pulling his cock out of you and wrapping your palm around it. He hissed, eyes searching yours with frantic anticipation as your thumb swiped over his tip. “Think I’d feel a whole lot betta if you did.”

[imloyaltoscoups]

after shower | jeon wonwoo

You were sitting on the floor, your back resting against the couch, idly scrolling through your phone. The air smelled faintly of soap and shampoo, and you glanced up just in time to see Wonwoo walking out of the shower, the way his white shirt clung to his still-drying skin made your heart race.

He walked over and sat beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he began wiping his glasses with a small cloth. You couldn't help but stare, your head tilting slightly against the couch as you admired him.

Wonwoo looked effortlessly handsome—his defined jawline, the way his lips pressed together in thought as he cleaned his glasses, the droplets of water trailing down his neck. It was too much to handle.

Noticing your gaze, he raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He placed his glasses on the table, setting the cloth aside before turning his full attention to you.

“What?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he leaned forward, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

You didn’t answer, your breath catching as he closed the distance between you. His hand came to rest on the floor beside you, his face mere inches away. Your heart raced in anticipation, and you waited, your lips slightly parted.

Then, finally, he kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, your hand moving to his neck as you deepened the kiss. Your tongue ran along his bottom lip, silently asking for entrance.

Wonwoo chuckled softly against your lips, the sound low and almost smug, before parting them to let you in. The kiss quickly shifted as he took control, his tongue tangling with yours in a way that left you literally breathless.

You whimpered softly, your fingers tightening in his damp hair as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. His hand found its way to your waist, steadying you as he continued to dominate.

When you pulled back slightly to catch your breath, his lips didn’t stray far, brushing against yours as he whispered, “You really can’t resist me, can you?”

You pouted, your cheeks warm as you muttered, “You’re the one who kissed me first.”

Wonwoo smirked, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline. “And you didn’t exactly stop me,” he teased, leaning in to steal another kiss.

When he's done, he leaned back slightly, still close enough that his breath brushed against your lips. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he tilted his head, studying your flushed face.

“I guess you found me pretty handsome, huh?” he said, his tone smug yet teasing.

You scoffed, trying to look away, but his hand gently cupped your chin, turning your face back toward him. “Don’t even try to deny it,” he added, his smirk deepening. “I caught you staring.”

Your cheeks burned, and you playfully swatted at his chest, though it lacked any real force. “You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, trying to ignore how good he looked sitting there with his freshly showered glow.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying how flustered you’d become. “I mean, can you blame me? You’re practically drooling over me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. Maybe just maybe.. you’re a little handsome,” you admitted hesitantly.

“A little?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow and leaning in closer, his face just inches from yours again. “Is that really all you’ve got to say after staring at me like that?”

You huffed, and raised both of your hands. “Okay, okay. You’re extremely handsome. Happy now?”

His grin turned softer but no less smug as he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Very,” he said, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “But I think I need to hear you say it again. Just to make sure.”

Before you could protest, he kissed you once again, effectively cutting off any of your response with a laugh that rumbled against your lips.

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

[lilhughesy]

Falling Into You | Matthew Knies x Fem!Reader

warnings! slow burn ish, mainly fluff, mentions of weed, slightly suggestive, and secret dating

word count: 7.1k

summary: You love your job as the athletic therapist for the Toronto Maple Leafs but you also seem to start falling for one of the players on said team. You swore to not catch feelings for him since it puts your job at risk but what if the risk is worth it?

a/n: first kniesy fic for my beloved @lovesickhughes !! I enjoyed writing this so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! (ps the title actually doesn't have any correlation to the fic itself lol)

You were the few rare people who could say that they loved their job. You loved every aspect of your job as the athletic therapist for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Since the start of your career, where your professor during your graduate studies somehow made a few calls to get you your job, you’ve been so thrilled to go to work every day. Your colleagues were a pleasure to work with, your job had you on your feet — a feature which you loved, and the players you worked with were always very nice.

A part of you adored the part where you got to wear your Toronto blue scrubs with a team logo clad zip up fleece and your fun sneakers every shift. The other part loved being able to meet so many different people while you worked. And obviously, being an athletic therapist in itself was a joy.

You walked in the brisk November breeze in Toronto, with a thin down jacket protecting you from the cold that’d been building up lately. You clutched the straps of your work purse closer to your body as you crossed the street towards the arena. It was nearly 6:45 AM and the city was already waking up with the occasional car horns and the shouts from down the street.

The warmth of Scotiabank Arena greeted you as you carefully closed the door behind you. You scanned your ID to enter down the long hallway where you said a quick ‘good morning’ to others who were also just starting work. You turned the corner to the large blue-painted double doors, you fished out the keys to unlock them and pushed the two open.

Your foot kicked the door stop to wedge at the bottom to keep them open before settling your purse on the nearby table. The bright fluorescent lights flickered on as you peeled off your coat, your scarf, and your purse to shove into your small designated locker. You started to get the small clinic ready for the long day ahead of you, first by checking the stock of supplies currently in the room. You mumbled to yourself a list of things to grab from storage,

“Okay, need white tape, pre-wrap,” You sighed, rubbing your temple in slight annoyance that your colleagues hadn’t stocked up the night before, “And maybe some extra electrodes and gel-”

“Hope I’m not bothering you,” A voice spoke up from behind you and you jumped slightly from being startled, your hand was pressed against your chest to soothe your racing heart when you spun around,

“Good morning,” You chuckled with a low shake of your head, “You scared me.”

He laughed lightly before offering you a to-go cup, “Sorry sweetheart, just thought I’d drop off a coffee for you since I know you’re in for a long day.”

You smiled as you took the drink from him, “Thank you Auston, that’s very sweet of you.”

Auston shrugged, “Working the game too right?”

You nodded as you sipped at the hot liquid, feeling the bitter taste run over your tastebuds and down your throat, “Yeah, going to be needing a few more of these later on.”

He chuckled as he patted your shoulder, “I’ll see you later, I think something’s up with my wrist again that I need you to check out.”

You hummed while he pulled away to head down the hallway, “I’ll see you later then.”

You watched the captain walk away before turning your attention back to your mental list. You braced yourself for another day of treating hamstring pain, sore wrists, ankle taping, and telling each player to stop training themselves to the point of injury. They never listened to you, only a nod and uh-huh yeah got it, before they got off the treatment bed and to their next stop.

The coffee from Auston was saving you, whether it was from keeping you warm in the chilly hallways to and from the supply stock or just keeping you awake in general. You worked through your several emails and the stack of paperwork that’d been sitting on your desk in the corner of the treatment room. The paperwork was definitely your least favourite part of the job, along with updating your notes on each player. You liked to keep track of small things they’ve mentioned in sessions, just so you could monitor them even when they say that everything feels fine. It was excessive, but it was important to you.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you opened the hydrocollator heat unit, to be greeted by a wall of steam — indicating that the heat packs were ready for the day.

“Morning!” You turned around to see Mitch Marner and Auston Matthews both entering the treatment room in their athletic wear. You checked the time to see that their morning skate must’ve ended, meaning the flood of hockey players was just beginning.

“Good morning, gentlemen. How’s that quad feeling, Matthews?” You asked the team captain as he sat down on one of the beds.

You continued to have your typical conversations with the different hockey players as you treated them. Often giving them a heat pack to help with blood circulation and muscle recovery, or providing them with deep tissue therapy with electrodes being placed on their point of injury. They often told you about their weekend plans or their most recent trip, all which you enjoyed hearing since a part of you lived through them as you never really left the city.

However, there was one hockey player who never seemed to make conversation with you — not that you would force them to, but rather because the rest were always social. Matthew Knies, one of the younger guys on the team, was always quiet when receiving treatment from you. 

Every time he comes in ten minutes early, always — he’s got his AirPods jammed in and that distracted, somewhere-else look in his eyes. He lowers himself onto the treatment table like he’s thinking about the next game or the one after that, gaze fixed on some point just beyond your shoulder. He gives a flat, “Morning,” if he remembers, and holds out his ankle like it’s a business transaction.

You tape him in silence. Efficient, practiced movements. Over, under, pull, press. He thanks you in a tone that might as well be pre-recorded. Then he’s gone.

You never pressured the guys to talk, if they didn’t want to then they didn’t have to. You don’t take it personally. Some players are chatty, some aren’t. Some want to talk about recovery protocols and shoulder mobility; others just want to get in and out. He’s young, focused, intense in that way rookies often are. You just did your job and what you’re being paid to do, which is treating them and assisting their recovery since their job as professional athletes takes a toll on their bodies physically. Although you noticed it was odd since you’d seen Knies outside of the treatment centre where he was loud, rowdy, and constantly joking around with his teammates. But then again, he could just be one of those people who open up to people that they’re comfortable with. You didn’t blame him, besides it wasn’t your job to psychoanalyze him.

So you continued to work the way you typically did, never minding the quiet when Knies was on the bed, “This okay?” You asked him as you attached the final electrode to his lateral ankle while your other hand started the IFC machine, “Not too high? I can adjust it if it’s uncomfortable.”

He shook his head, not looking up from his phone as his thumbs typed away, “No, you’re good.”

You nodded as you pulled away and started to clean up some of your supplies that were left on the table. You kept track of the time on your Apple Watch for Knies’ electrode treatment as you dropped some white towels into the used bin and reorganized the tape into their designated spot.

“Hey,” Mitch said to you as he poked his head in, “Just wanted to say that those stretched your prescribed for my wrist last week have been working wonders! It’s been feeling great and I didn’t notice any pain during practice today.”

You smiled at him, “I’m glad! I still want to check up on it later though.”

He nodded as he leaned against the doorframe, “Also, that Italian restaurant on Bloor St is fantastic — Steph and I stopped by to get a bite and the food was amazing.”

“The place you’ve been meaning to try?” You asked, to which he hummed an agreeing response, “I’ll definitely check it out with a few of my girls sometime soon.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Mitch chuckled before noticing the younger player on the bed, “Is he always this quiet?”

You glanced over to Knies, seeing him still focused on his phone, “Yeah, he’s typically like this but I don’t mind.”

Mitch shrugged, “He’s always a big yapper so I’m surprised Kniesy can actually shut up for once. Anyway, I’m heading out for a bit before the game, catch you later.”

“Bye Mitch,” You laughed to yourself as he waltzed away.

The guys were playing some sewer ball before their game with some music playing off of one of their blue tooth speakers. It echoed the concrete walls and floors along with their laughter and occasional chirps. Matthew was chatting with Willy while clutching onto his plastic water bottle,

“Yeah man, I dunno,” Matthew shrugged, “Just hoping they’d stop calling me about it, it’s just a pain in the ass.”

Willy barked a laugh before looking past Matthew’s shoulder to wave a small hello to whoever was behind him. He didn’t care to check, assuming it was another one of the guys or something. It wasn’t until Willy pulled away from their makeshift circle to grab the extra iced coffee that stood on a box and jogged in that same direction.

Matthew turned around to see Willy handing the drink to you, and watched as a large smile drew upon your face as you took the drink from him. He assumed you were thanking Willy as your hand placed onto his forearm before you pulled away and disappeared down the hall.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Willy said to Matthew as he returned, “What were you saying?”

Matthew furrowed his brows as he also tried to recall the conversation between the two of them, “Fuck, I can’t remember- Who was that?”

His eyes widened, “You joking right?”

Matthew only rolled his eyes, “No dude, who is she?”

“No fucking way, man!” Mitch laughed from the other side of Matthew, “Are you for real, Kniesy?”

“That’s Y/N, our AT,” Auston told Matthew with a mocking smile on his face, “I thought you went to get treated for that ankle pain today”

Mitch lowly shook his head in somewhat disbelief, “He did, I saw him there but he was so focused on his phone the entire time. Didn’t realize he didn’t even know who our AT was.”

A chorus of laughter filled the area as Matthew scoffed, “Alright, alright knock it off. So what if I don’t know Y/N, I’m sure Joey doesn’t know her either.”

“They’re actually really tight,” Willy told Matthew, “They grab coffee and chat pretty often outside of here.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m seriously the only one who didn’t know her name?” Matthew repeated as he watched all his teammates nod their heads and stifle their laughter, “She’s so quiet, it’s legit not even my fault.”

Auston rolled his eyes in amusement, “She’s the opposite, that girl is so chatty. You just ignore her when you’re getting treated.”

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

It was before their game and you were preparing for the multiple tape jobs that you need to do for each of the players. You noticed it immediately, the no AirPods. It’s the first thing you clocked when Knies stepped into the room. He paused just inside the door, glancing around like he’s not quite sure where to stand. You’re restocking the tape tower, kneeling beside a cart with a roll of white in one hand and your clipboard in the other.

“Hey,” He said with his voice low.

You looked up at him, noting his voice, the direct eye contact, and no earbuds.

“Hi,” You replied with your friendly tone as always.

He walked over and sat on the treatment table. You rose to your feet and grabbed the pre-wrap, keeping an eye on him as you approached. 

“Same ankle?” You asked as you crouched down.

“Yeah.”

You start wrapping, muscle memory taking over. It’s quiet for a beat, a little too quiet. He’s not scrolling his phone nor zoning out, he was just watching you work.

“This song’s new,” He spoke up, catching your attention away from his ankle.

You glanced up with a confused expression written across your face, “Sorry?”

“The playlist,” He clarified, “I haven’t heard this one before.”

You arched a brow, “You’ve been coming in here with your AirPods in for three months and now you’re commenting on my music?”

He flushed as he looked away, “I was… focused.”

“Uh-huh,” You said with the corner of your mouth twitching, “Well, thanks for noticing. It’s a new mix.”

He nodded like he’s not sure what to say next while you finish taping and pat his ankle lightly.

“All set.”

Knies doesn’t move right away, “You, uh… ever go out with the team after games?”

Your eyes narrowed just a little, “Not usually.”

He nodded again as he pushed himself off the table, “Cool, just wondering.”

You blinked as he left the room, leaving you confused as ever with his change of behaviour. But you didn’t let it bother you too much since you still had to treat all the other players before their game against the Kings, as you heard Mitch’s loud voice from down the hallway that snapped you out of your trance. 

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The next few days brought more of the same. Knies kept showing up without his AirPods. You caught him hovering a bit longer after his treatments. He asked if your sneakers were new. Another time, he pointed at your coffee mug and said, “That quote’s funny,” even though it wasn’t particularly as it was just another cheesy mug you had grabbed in the check out line at Winners a few weeks ago. It was like watching a large dog try to act like a cat — awkward but kind of endearing.

He still didn’t talk much, but he was trying and you could tell. He'd meet your eye more often. Occasionally he'd mirror your small talk with asking if you had plans for the weekend, if you liked Italian food, if you’d ever tried paddleboarding of all things. Each time, it felt like he was pushing himself just a centimetre or two out of his comfort zone.

“You don’t have to make conversation, you know,” You said to him one morning while wrapping his wrist, “I’m not taking attendance.”

He gave you a small sheepish smile, “I know, I just feel like I should’ve learned your name from you and not from the guys.”

“You’re only the last one to do it, no big deal,” You teased with eyes twinkling in amusement.

He groaned, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Absolutely not.”

A few weeks later, it was a back-to-back game weekend. You were exhausted, your lower back aching from leaning over treatment tables for too long. You had just finished setting up post-game recovery stations when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned, and there was Knies and he was holding a smoothie.

“You looked dead on your feet,” He said awkwardly, holding out the drink towards you, “This one’s supposed to help with muscle soreness. I think… or maybe it’s gut health. Either way, it’s not poisoned.”

You blinked, as you slowly reached out for the plastic cup, “Did you get this for me?”

He shrugged, “Figured it was the least I could do.”

You took it slowly, unsure if this was a prank, “Thanks, that’s really thoughtful.”

He shoved his hands into his hoodie, “You uh, do a lot for us. Most of the guys don’t really say it, but I noticed.”

Something about his tone caught you off guard. It wasn’t smooth or rehearsed. It was genuine.

“Thanks, Knies,” You said to him with a warm smile, trying not to stare too hard at his dark lashes or the faint pink on his cheeks, “I’ll take gut health over muscle soreness any day.”

He chuckled, “You’re welcome, and you can call me Matthew by the way.” 

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You started to notice his presence around you more when you were hauling a bulky crate of foam rollers and resistance bands from the storage room. The wheels on the crate had been jammed for weeks, and dragging it across the hallway carpet was like shovelling the March time sludge off of the longest driveway. You were bracing yourself for the familiar strain in your shoulders when a quiet voice piped up behind you.

“Need a hand?”

You turned, eyebrows already lifting in surprise.

Matthew stood there and out of his training jersey, fresh from a shower, curls still damp and sticking to his forehead as he held a protein shake and eyeing the crate. You’d almost said no, but instead you stepped aside.

He grabbed the other end with ease, hauling it down the hall like it weighed nothing, and didn’t say another word until you both reached the clinic treatment room and dropped it with a dull thud by the back shelf.

“Thanks,” You said to him, still slightly bewildered.

“No problem,” He replied casually, like he did this kind of thing every day.

Except he didn’t, not until recently.

After that, it became a pattern. He was suddenly everywhere but not in an annoying way, not in a suffocating way, just present. One morning you caught him restocking the tape tower while you were juggling a phone call and trying to log a player’s treatment report. He didn’t ask, he just saw you struggling and silently stepped in, peeling the shrink wrap off the white rolls and sliding them into place, one after another like how you always had them shelved. 

You had paused, still cradling your phone between your cheek and shoulder, to glance at him.

“You volunteering as an intern now?” You joked as you entered the treatment report into the system on your laptop.

He smiled without looking at you, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, “Figured I’d start pulling my weight.”

Professional boundaries, you reminded yourself. You weren’t here to flirt or banter or let one of your clients, no matter how good his jawline looked under the soft lights of the clinic or how his compression shirts made his shoulders and biceps look delicious, get too close.

But he, Matthew Knies, made it so damn hard.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

It became even harder after the coffee.

One morning, your name was called from the hallway just as you were rubbing the sleep out of your eyes in the supply room. You stepped out, brows raised, only to find Matthew standing awkwardly with a cardboard drink tray in hand.

“I uh, this one’s yours. No cream, just one sugar, oat milk, extra hot, right?”

You blinked twice, trying to understand the situation in front of you, “That’s… yes.”

He looked visibly proud of himself as he handed it over with a smile growing on his face.

“I saw the look you gave Auston last week when he brought you a hazelnut latte thing with soy milk,” He admitted with a slight grin, “Figured I’d pay more attention.”

You were too stunned to answer right away. Your heart did this little somersault in your chest, a gentle flutter of surprise that threw your entire day off-balance. You wrapped your hands around the warm cup, letting the steam hit your nose.

“Thanks, Matthew,” You mumbled with a small smile tugging at your lips.

And maybe he noticed because the next time, it was banana bread and then a small paper bag of roasted almonds, then a Tupperware container of pasta salad which he responded with a sheepish, “My sister makes too much and makes me take leftovers,”

You told yourself it was just friendly. A rookie trying to be nice. A player making an effort. How it was no different from you and Joey grabbing a coffee on Thursday mornings at the local coffee shop, or how Mitch would ask for your input when he was buying a gift for Steph, or how you would go shopping with Auston because he liked hearing your take on his fashion style. Even then, something about Matthew felt much more different than any of that.

It had been a long double-practice day and your feet were sore even with your new orthopaedic approved sneakers. Your hair was shoved into a claw clip that you only ever used when you were too tired to bother styling it. Your voice was dry and hoarse from repeating the same instructions to four different defensemen who didn’t know how to foam roll properly. You were exhausted beyond belief, and it didn’t help that Toronto was getting so cold with winter settling into the city.

The final lights in the arena clicked off behind you, and you wrapped your fleece jacket tighter around yourself as you stepped out into the early night. The snow fell softly down, glazing the sidewalk in a thin layer of white. You adjusted your toque and scarf and turned toward the TTC stop when you heard a car honk.

A sleek black SUV idled near the curb as the driver’s side window rolled down, and there he was, yet again.

“You’re not seriously walking to the subway in this,” Matthew called out to you, noticing how your nose was turning red from the windchill.

You tilted your head at him, amusement threading into your voice, “What, worried I’ll freeze into an ice cube? Don’t worry the station is just another block away,”

He shrugged, clearly not hearing you out,  “I’m not letting you take the train, Y/N, get in.”

You hesitated then stepped off the curb and headed to his luxury vehicle.

Inside the SUV, it smelled faintly of eucalyptus and leather and the faint residue of a vanilla air freshener clipped to the vent. Warmth blasted from the heater vents, fogging the windows slightly.

He didn’t make a move, didn’t say anything cocky or smug. Just kept his eyes on the road, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the indie playlist you’d always had on in the clinic.

You turned your head slowly to look at him, the city lights passing in golden streaks outside the passenger window.

“You really pay attention to things, huh?”

He glanced at you, then smiled, “Only the important ones.”

Your stomach flipped, goddamn it.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

And you don’t know when it started. Not really.

There wasn’t a single moment, there was no sudden cinematic shift where everything changed at once. It was slow and gradual. A soft, barely noticeable tilt. Like the way shadows stretch longer as the sun sinks lower — inevitable but subtle, until suddenly the whole world looks different.

Late-night texts that used to be about injury updates or recovery times quietly shifted into something else. “Let me know you got home safe” turned into “Wish I was driving with you again.” Quick check-ins became inside jokes. He started lingering after treatments, offering to help you close up by reorganizing the Theraband drawer, restocking the massage oil cabinet, just anything to stay a little longer.

Sometimes, he didn’t even say anything and he’d just be there. Sitting on the edge of the treatment table, head tilted, a lazy smile on his face while you moved around the room like a storm on legs. Watching you, he was always watching.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything more than being friends, that he was just friendly and that it was harmless – until the one night where you let him kiss you.

It was after an away game and the team was exhausted, the bus ride quiet, the locker room half-empty. You were restocking bandages behind the clinic curtain when he found you — just appeared, like he had a radar for when you were alone. Matthew said your name softly, and when you turned around, his eyes were warm and uncertain.

“Don’t yell at me,” He murmured, “I know I’m pushing my luck.”

You didn’t yell, you actually didn’t say anything at all. You let him take a step closer and let his hands hover near your waist, you let your forehead press against his chest for a heartbeat. You felt his heart speed up at the close proximities of your bodies, and then you let him kiss you — soft and slow, like he had been planning for this moment, and you kissed him back.

Now it’s a secret because it has to be.

You have rules, both personal and professional, and this breaks nearly all of them. He gets it and he understood where you were coming from. It was against the policies at work for both of you. You talked about it once, when you were curled up in the back of his car at 1 AM, headlights from passing traffic slipping like ghosts across the ceiling. You told him you weren’t ready to risk everything you worked for.

He nodded, “Then we don’t risk it.”

You’re not dating, not officially but the lines blur anyway.

There are late-night drives and kisses stolen in utility closets and locker room back corridors. His hoodie smells like cedarwood and worn leather, and you start keeping it in your office, telling yourself it’s for emergencies but wearing it when you stay too late. He picks up your coffee order without being asked. He knows the way your eyes dart when you’re overstimulated, how you braid your hair tighter when you’re stressed. He doesn’t say much, just appears when you need him — with food, or a smoothie, or his knuckles gently brushing yours like an unspoken “I see you.”

You think you’re being subtle when in reality you’re not.

Auston Matthews noticed, of course he did.

It starts innocently enough, during post-practice cooldowns, when guys are distracted and the room is buzzing but he sees the way Matthew’s eyes flickered over to you as you entered the space with various resistance bands. 

One day, he side-eyed Matthew during stretches and mutters, “Someone’s chipper today, you finally get a new mattress or what?”

Matthew just grunted, brushing off his captain, “Maybe I’m just in a good mood.”

“Mmhmm,” Auston hummed as he grinned, “Weird. You’ve just been very smiley lately.”

Matthew doesn’t respond and doesn’t even look at him, but you saw the way he tightened his grip on the resistance band in his hands.

Then Auston turns his attention to you, it was slow, at first. Barely-there comments dropped into casual conversation.

“Is it just me or do you look extra glowy today?” He asked as you passed by during the gear check.

You snorted with a shake of your head, “It’s sweat, Auston.”

“Still works for you,” He told you with a wink.

Matthew was across the room, watching and you could feel it. That simmering weight of his gaze, the way it darkened and sharpened, as Auston continued his not-so-subtle comments on you.

The next time Auston made a cheeky comment was with a, “You ever think about being a model instead of a therapist?” Followed by a knowing look, “Because you’d kill it.”

You nearly dropped the ice pack in your hands and your face immediately heated up and flushed pink, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Auston grinned, folding his arms behind his head as he laid on the table, “You’re wasted in this job, too pretty to be patching up sweaty hockey players all day.”

The room got too warm and too quickly, you cleared your throat and turned away, fumbling with your clipboard.

Later, when you slip into the staff hallway, you feel a presence behind you, big and familiar and silent. Then a hand slides along your wrist and tugs you into a quiet alcove between two supply closets. A familiar scent of cedar, winter air, and his warmth.

He’s already kissing you before you can say a word. It’s rougher this time. A little desperate. His hands bracket your hips and his mouth is all heat and frustration, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead dropped to yours.

“You okay?” You whispered out as your hands landed on his broad muscular shoulders.

He doesn’t answer right away and his breath fanned across your cheek.

“You’re mine,” He told you quietly yet possessively, “Even if no one knows it.”

Your heart stuttered, warmth filling your chest and abdomen at his tone and his words.

“Someone’s jealous,” You said with a half-teasing voice.

“I’m not jealous,” He mumbled, though the heat in his voice betrayed him, “I just don’t like hearing someone else flirt with you.”

You look up at him, “Technically, I’m not yours.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, “We both know that you’re lying right now.”

The words hang in the air between you, unspoken and dangerous and too, too tempting.

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

It’s nearly midnight in New Jersey.

The hotel hallway is hushed, the kind of quiet that hummed with sleeping bodies and the occasional distant whirr of the elevator. A storm rolled through earlier, leaving a cushion of snow on the ground. You should be in your room, replying to emails or icing the bruised winger who swore he didn’t need treatment but would absolutely complain tomorrow morning.

But your feet moved before logic could catch up. Down the carpeted corridor, past the ice machine still rumbling in the corner room. Your hoodie was zipped up to your chin and you didn’t bother brushing your hair. You clutched a bag of ice packs against your chest like some excuse to be here.

Room 427.

You hesitated just outside the door, heart beating too loud in your chest.

Then you knock softly, just once.

The door opens almost instantly as if he’d been standing on the other side, waiting for you.

Matthew looked like he hadn't slept either. His hair is tousled, damp around the edges like he just ran his hands through it under the sink. He wore grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips and no shirt, a lazy crease down the middle of his chest where he must’ve been lying down. The lamp on the nightstand behind him casted a low golden glow across the room, warm and sleepy and intimate.

You don’t say anything and neither does he. He just stepped back, letting you in.

You move on instinct both quietly and cautiously — as if even the walls might be listening. The door clicks shut behind you with a finality that settled like a stone in your stomach.

“This is a bad idea,” You murmured, still not looking at him.

“Probably,” He agreed, with his voice just as soft, “But you’re here anyway.”

You glanced up.

He’s watching you the way he always does like you’re something fragile, something sacred, something he’s scared to touch too much for fear of breaking it.

The bed is unmade with the blankets scrunched up. The television is off. There’s a protein bar wrapper on the desk and his phone charging by the lamp. It’s all painfully ordinary, except for the tension stringing between your bodies, pulled so tight it might snap at the slightest move.

You dropped the ice pack bag on the chair, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

He takes a slow step toward you, by the time he’s close enough to touch, your breath has already hitched in your throat.

“You can still go,” He said almost like he meant it, “I won’t stop you.”

But when you don’t move and you don’t even blink, his hand rises, curling gently around your wrist. You feel the anchor of him, the warmth and steadiness that he always seemed to provide.

Then he kissed you.

It’s not urgent, not this time. It’s slow and meaningful. Like he’s memorizing the feel of your mouth, your breath, the curve of your jaw under his fingertips. 

You end up on the bed, tangled limbs and quiet sighs, your hoodie halfway off, your body pressed to his like you’ve been waiting your whole life to breathe in this exact air. He pulled you against him afterward, arms wrapped around your back, his chest warm and flushed against yours. There’s no words being exchanged, just the rhythmic lull of his heartbeat against yours.

You're curled up against him with your fingers grazing the soft line of his ribs,

A knock.

You jolted, immediately sitting up with his strong arms still across your thighs.

Then a voice, “Yo Knies? You up?”

Your body goes rigid as every nerve in your body catches fire.

It was Auston.

Knies sits up, already grabbing a hoodie from the chair to pull over his naked torso.

You’re flying off the bed before he can say anything, grabbing your melted ice bag, heart hammering.

“Bathroom,” He whispered, “Now.”

You darted across the room and slipped inside just as the lock clicked open. The bathroom is cold and silent. You press your back to the door, hands shaking. Your breath comes in quick, clipped bursts.

You can hear them on the other side of the door.

“Didn’t mean to barge in,” Auston said, his voice casual and slightly amused, “Saw your light was on. Got anything to eat?”

You imagined Matthew plastering on that half-lazy smile he wears when he’s trying to look unbothered.

“I dunno. Check the desk.”

There’s a pause before the unmistakable rustle of wrappers, then,

“Your room smells like vanilla,” Auston commented.

Your eyes squeezed shut.

“And... is that menthol?” Another pause, “You hiding your favourite therapist in here or what?”

The silence after that stretched for long, too long.

Then Matthew laughed low and easy, like it was all a joke, “You high or something?”

Another pause, then the shuffles of feet.

“Whatever, I’m taking your last protein bar.”

The door shuts again and you don’t move. At least not until Matthew opened the bathroom door, his face pale with adrenaline, hair a mess from dragging his hand through it a hundred times.

“I’m so sorry,” You said to him instantly, the words cracking out of you, “That was so fucking stupid, I shouldn’t have-”

“Stop,” He told you, gentler this time.

You meet his eyes. He’s still looking at you like you matter. Like you didn’t almost ruin everything and like you’re worth the risk.

But suddenly all the guilt, all the pressure, all the hiding — it swells up inside you like a flood.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” You mumbled quietly, “This sneaking around, it’s not just about me anymore, Matt. If anyone finds out, it’s your career too. Your team. I’ve worked too hard to be respected here. And now I’m scared every time someone looks at me too long.”

He nodded and he didn't interrupt, he just let you talk.

“I told myself I could handle it and that whatever this is would be temporary. But then you do shit like text me when I haven’t eaten, or notice how I wear my hair when I’m stressed, or memorize my coffee order like it matters,” Your voice cracked, “And suddenly I’m not just scared of getting caught. I’m scared of what it’ll feel like when this ends.”

His hand finds yours, squeezing it reassuringly.

“You think this is temporary?”

You opened your mouth, but the lie died before it could even take shape, so you closed your eyes instead.

“I don’t want it to be,” You admitted to the hockey player, “I think I’ve been pretending I don’t care because if I say it out loud, it becomes real. And if it’s real... I don’t know how to protect myself anymore.”

Matthew took a breath before he took a step closer, “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

And something inside you finally comes loose. You fall into him, arms around his neck, face pressed to his chest, and you let yourself believe it. You want more. Not just the touches in the dark. Not just the late-night kisses and whispered hellos in empty hallways.

You want him fully, loudly, and messily – and maybe it’s time to stop hiding that.

The next evening, the air in the practice facility feels thick but not with humidity, but with tension you couldn’t shake. You kept your head down, hyper-focused on stretching routines and inventory counts, acting like you didn't notice the way Matthew kept orbiting near you. Like you can’t feel his eyes grazing your skin like a touch he’s not allowed to give.

But you feel it, every time. The looks, the brushes, and the silent pleas hidden in those ocean-blue eyes when he caught you biting the inside of your cheek or fiddling with the lanyard hanging around your neck.

And worst of all, you feel Auston watching everything with a smirk he’s not even trying to hide.

You're helping Willy with a resistance band when you hear it.

Low. Casual. Razor-sharp.

"Didn’t know you were so hands-on with the team,” Auston said from across the room, his voice just loud enough to carry, "Guess I should fake an injury, see what I get."

Your throat tightened and you glanced up, and he's looking right at you, wearing that boyish grin that means trouble.

Next to him, Matthew stiffened – it was subtle, but unmistakable. He was leaning against the treatment table, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The flicker in his eyes wasn't amusement, it contained fury.

“Knock it off,” He said to his captain through gritted teeth.

Auston raised his brows, amused, “What? I’m just saying she’s good at her job.”

You cleared your throat, “I’m right here, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Auston grinned even wider, “Trust me.”

You feel the heat rise in your face before you can stop it and that’s the worst part – that your body always reacts before your brain does, and that Auston and Matthew both saw it.

He turned away abruptly, you could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

You fled to the supply room, with heart pounding in your ears, and hands shaking as you started reorganizing the tape shelf for the fourth time today. It was stupid, and you knew it, but it’s easier than facing the fact that maybe you’ve lost control of this. Of yourself.

The door opened behind you, softly with no knock. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“You can’t keep doing that,” You said, without looking up from the various rolls in front of you.

“Doing what?”

“Letting it show. You think no one notices, but they do. Auston definitely does.” You explained with a slight scoff in your voice.

“He’s a jackass.”

“He’s perceptive.”

You hear him exhale – low, frustrated, and then the room gets smaller and warmer. You felt him step closer, and then he's there, behind you, not touching, just existing too loudly in your space.

You turned, and his eyes locked on yours immediately.

“You’re shaking,” He told you softly.

“No, I’m not.”

He reached down and gently pressed his fingers against your hand. You hate how steady he feels, and how steady he makes you.

“You don’t have to keep pretending,” He mumbled out, “Not with me.”

Your laugh comes out brittle, “Matt, you don’t get it. I can’t afford to mess this up. If anyone higher up finds out-”

“So let them, let them find out.”

Your chest tightened, “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I’ve never meant anything more.”

There’s silence for a moment. You could hear the hum of the vending machine outside the room, the dull thud of a puck dropping to the floor in the hall.

“I’m so tired of hiding,” He confessed with his voice low and almost hoarse, “I’m tired of pretending that you’re not the only thing I think about every fucking day. That I don’t look for you in every room. That I don’t get pissed off when I see someone else making you smile.”

You blinked and your breath caught in your throat.

“I want to show you off,” Matthew continued, stepping closer, “I want to take you out. Sit next to you on the plane and not pretend it’s a coincidence. I want people to look at us and know, I want them to know you’re mine.”

The door opened behind him before you could speak.

Mitch.

He stopped mid-step, Gatorade bottle in hand. His eyes instantly widened, comically wide, as he took in the scene – your flushed cheeks, Matthew standing too close, both of you frozen like teenagers caught by a parent.

Auston appeared right behind him now also seeing the same thing, and grinned like a devil who just won a bet.

“Well, well, well,” Mitch said slowly as he dragged the words out like he’s savoring them, “That explains helluva a lot.”

Matthew doesn’t flinch. He turns his body halfway, planting himself in front of you protectively like it’s instinct, like shielding you is second nature.

Without hesitation, he said, “Yeah. She’s with me.”

You inhaled sharply.

Mitch blinked twice while Auston looked like Christmas came early for him, 

“Okay, okay, Kniesy. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“No shit,” Mitch told Matthew while shaking his head, “Okay, I owe Willy fifty bucks.”

Auston cackled, clapping Mitch on the back as they walked away allowing the door to shut again.

Silence.

You couldn’t speak and you couldn’t move. You just stared at Matthew, who looked more grounded now than he had in weeks. Like the dam finally broke and it didn’t ruin him, rather it freed him.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” He admitted, eyes softer now as they searched yours, “But I don’t regret it.”

You swallowed hard, “Matt…”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just please, stop pretending you don’t feel it too.”

He looked at you like he already knew the answer. Like he’s not afraid of the risks anymore and in that moment, neither were you.

Your lips met his immediately, as if they sealed the deal to the question he was asking. He melted into you, his arms pulling you by your waist closer to his chest as he felt your body relax at his touch.

"You already know what I'm going to say to that," You teased before pecking his lips lightly to which he responded with a large boyish grin.

[ellierium]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: ellie wants to eat you whole. you let her! and maybe return the favor.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: ellie williams x fem!reader

𝙘𝙬: smut — fingering, pussy eating, face riding, "sloppy" descriptions, dirty talk. mention of blood. vague plot.

✧˖*°࿐

Having sex with Ellie isn’t bad at all. You learn a lot about her.

She has sensitive ears (you knew that) and a sensitive neck (you didn’t know that). Her sides were ticklish, but when you run your hands down to her waist, she responds beautifully. A symphony of breathy moans and pretty whispers. Her hair is a light halo over her head and she looks too comfortable being sprawled out on your bed. She doesn’t stay there for long, of course. She’s too eager to do that.

Her kisses trail down the crook of your neck, onto your shoulder, down your chest. She knows you like kisses on your stomach, on your hips, on your pussy. It makes her dizzy, how much you want and how much she’s willing to give.

It suddenly feels like too much and not enough. 

“Ellie,” you whine breathily, but only when Ellie’s tongue trails down your stomach, “Ellie– Ellie.”

She’d never focused on the way you said her name before. Now that she is, it was the only way she wanted her name to be said. 

“Yeah?” She breathes, lifting her head from your torso. You stare down at her, your chest heaving, her eyes half-lidded. You can’t really form any words, so Ellie nips at your hip bone. Your hips twitch up towards her face. You blush a pretty pink, and Ellie decides then and there that she is going to eat you whole.

“C’mere,” you say, sweet enough that Ellie does. If you told her to commit mass murder with that voice, she would. 

You pull her down for a kiss that had your teeth knocking into each other. You could swear your lip was bleeding, but then Ellie’s tongue is lapping up any blood that would be there, and you can’t help but groan. Ellie sucks on your bottom lip, making it swell and bruise. She pulls away, only to push you down.

“Didn’t realize you’d be this rough,” you laugh, winded and a little crazed. 

“Making up for lost time,” she grins back, leaning down to place more kisses on your chest. It works well to shut you up. 

“Oh, yeah?” You suck in a breath, only half-trying to get away from Ellie’s lips.

A teasing bite to your hip makes you grunt, and your hips jerk. 

Ellie could probably spend the rest of her life figuring out what makes you sound so pretty. She’d never thought that hard about what you would be like in bed– thinking about you as hers was enough, at least it used to be. Now, though, with you pliant and at her mercy, her mind is racing. 

She can’t help the deranged grin on her face, can’t help smothering her face into your side. She hums when it makes you gasp.

“Ellie,” you whine again, your fingers tugging and pulling at strands of her hair. “C’mon.” 

Ellie seriously does not need to be told twice. 

She has half the mind to push her luck, though– see if she could make you beg, but saves it for another day. 

She tugs at your sweats impatiently, doesn’t wait for you to kick them off your legs before she tugs down your underwear and lets her fingers graze over your wet pussy. She said she was making up for lost time. She meant it. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, your eyes glaze over, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Ellie snarks quietly, ignoring the harsh tug from your fingers. She sighs, pressing kisses to your pussy, licking just to see what you would do. 

You don’t disappoint. You immediately look down, your lips parted over a gasp, your eyebrows pinched. Your pussy is absolutely drooling, but Ellie very happily licks it up. 

“God–” 

As Ellie slowly eases in two fingers, she hums softly at the sound of your greedy cunt swallowing her fingers up. She pumps her fingers in and out of your pussy, slow and gentle. She rests her head on your thigh for a moment.

“You’ve gotten head before, no?” She murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. You nod, your whole body twitching with every kiss she placed there. She smiled.

“You always respond like this?” 

“No,” you breathe, combing your shaky fingers through her hair, “Just you. Dunno why.”

“Just me,” Ellie repeats in a whisper, fascinated. 

She doesn’t give much of a warning for when her tongue would lick up your pussy, but it seems as though she enjoyed it better that way. Ellie watches to see what you like and don't like, and it makes you dizzy how quickly she learns how to make you shudder. 

But Ellie can’t help herself in some way— she loves to shove her tongue into your cunt and lap up your drool. She loves holding your hips down, loves when you look down at her and moan in approval.

“Fuck,” you whimper quietly, trying not to jerk your hips too hard. You shook your head quickly, embarrassed, and Ellie watched with half-lidded eyes. 

“M’close–” You gasp, “No– fuck–”

You whine pathetically when Ellie pulls away, caressing your hip bones. She’s too pretty, Ellie thinks distantly. 

“Why no?” She murmurs, her voice hoarse, and she revels in the way you shuddered.

“Just– so fast,” you mutter back.

“Bad?” 

“Not bad,” you wheeze, half-heartedly tugging Ellie’s face closer to your pussy, “Very good.” 

Ellie continues, keeps going until you cum all over her mouth and chin, until your body seizes up and your thighs lock around her head. She lets you ride out your orgasm, and sits patiently with her tongue out and fingers in your cunt. Once you slump against the mattress, she pulls away, her fingers slipping out as gently as she can muster. She ignores the wetness between her own thighs, instead opting to crawl up on the bed, placing an arm around your waist. 

You look at her like she grew a second head.

“The fuck are you doing?” 

Ellie frowns. 

“Ride my face,” you breathe, cheeks rosy, “I’ll make it feel good–”

You don’t have to talk her into it– not at all. She seems positive that she’s going to cum no matter what you do. 

Ellie wastes no time to lay you back down, her touch soft but she’s forceful with it. She pushes your hair out of your face, then carefully straddles your head, keeping her hips up so she can still meet your eyes. It’s a silent question, but you just nod. 

With that, she sinks down, you meeting her pussy with an eager mouth. You don't have a technique per se, but you make up for your lack of experience with your eagerness. You lap at her cunt like a dog, stuffing your face as close as you can, spreading your spit and Ellie’s drool all over her folds. 

“Shiiiiit,” Ellie gasps, hips rocking slow and gentle so as to not hurt you. “Like that, baby— such a good fuckin’ girl—”

You breathe harshly through your nose, not wanting to waste a second away from Ellie’s cunt, and honestly, Ellie doesn’t think she’ll last very long anyway. 

It feels too surreal– feels too much like a dream. Ellie can’t help that her hips are moving on their own, can’t help that she wants to take control.

You notice it— the stutter in her hips— and you squeeze her thighs as if to give her approval. So, she does. You moan against her pussy, your cunt dripping at all the shit Ellie says. Desperate, borderline belligerent, but it makes your clit throb. One of your hands grip her hip like you’d keep her there by force if you had to, so Ellie very safely assumes you like it.

“Mm— your tongue feels so fuckin’ good, baby— soooo deep in my cunt, fuck!”

The way your tongue slides between her folds and flicks against her clit brings Ellie closer to her orgasm with each passing moment. The idea of how much you’re willing to give her has her desperate, chasing her orgasm while she rides your face. Your other hand goes under, two of your fingers easily slipping into her cunt. That coupled with the thought of being the first girl to ever fuck your face is enough to send her over the edge, and she fucks you face ‘til it’s glazed over with spit and cum.

Her thighs shake as she sits up and quickly maneuvers herself so she can flop down next to you. You breathe deep, head swimming and cunt aching. She throws an arm over your waist, fingers caressing your hip bone. You glance over at her, lips quirked up. She’s already smiling, eyes hazy.

“Your turn?”

[bbydoll18xx]

She’s Such a Good Girl (Part 6)

Your newfound fascination with Paige's abs leads to some fun.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: ab riding, general horniness

A/N: well guys, it only took like idk 4 months and a lot of bullying but here she is! I hope this lives up to your expectations.

I wasn’t planning on doing this but it’s my birthday, and so, here is my gift to you LOL

Let the smut commence ;)

~

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?” 

Your head whips towards the husky drawl that you had become very familiar with over the last few weeks. Paige’s voice had an effect over your entire body. Your belly would roll in want and your cheeks would heat up, spreading down over your chest and settling into a pool of unbridled want. 

Paige Bueckers had ripped away every single inhibition you had clasped to your entire life, and you were now standing with the shreds of your past life laying at your feet. 

She had come into your life, teasing you first with the edits on your phone and passing glances before slamming you into a delicious fantasy, rivaling those in the romance books you liked to read. 

She had taught you to open yourself up, to learn how to please yourself and her. She had taught you that it was okay to let yourself fall head over heels, and to stop intentionally keeping yourself from happiness to protect yourself from the unknown.

So, here you were, throwing yourself to the wolves, and not giving a single, flying fuck. 

You had never been happier. 

Paige had caught you in another fantasy. It was difficult to not get caught up in her. And even though you had the real deal dancing right in front of your face, the shame of admitting some of your more filthy fantasies was the reason you were keeping your mouth shut.

You clear your throat in an attempt to keep from stuttering, your voice wavering as you try to swallow the lust brewing in your body.

“N-nothing.” 

Fuck.

Paige looks at you suspiciously, grabbing her towel off the bench next to where you were currently daydreaming and wiping off a bead of sweat that was traveling down her toned stomach.

Paige had begged you to come watch her practice, and you had put up a fight, knowing she liked to practice in just a sports bra. Paige’s abs had been at the forefront of your mind for the past two weeks, taking over any rational thoughts.

You were a very focused person, and you always had been. Your grades were phenomenal, but your mind had been hijacked by images of pale, toned flesh. And you did not know how to stop it. 

Your eyes trail to Paige’s stomach, and your tongue peeks out involuntarily, sweeping over your bottom lip in a wanton fashion that did not go unnoticed by the blonde. 

“My eyes are up here,” she teases, sitting down on the bench and leaning into you, bumping her shoulder with yours. “You got that horny look in your eyes again,” she deadpans.

You splutter, desperately trying to find the words to defend yourself against her wildly astute observation. 

She laughs, the sound echoing loudly through the empty gym. 

“I like your abs,” you mumble, unable to keep eye contact from the embarrassment of your confession. 

“You do?” Paige questions, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

You look at her with a disbelieving look. “Well, uh, yeah…” you trail. You pick at your fingernails, feeling anxious from the conversation. “I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Paige pulls you into a searing kiss, distracting you from your racing thoughts. She licks into your open mouth, unspoken promises swapping between the two of you as you make out in the empty gym. 

“You could always ride them,” she suggests casually, a glint in her eyes giving away her practiced air of nonchalance. 

“Who’s the horny one now?”

~

You were definitely still the horny one, it seemed, as you laid in bed later that afternoon, panties soaked as you found yourself completely swept up in the idea of riding her. The thought had invaded the more rational side of your brain, and you were now being bombarded with filthy images of your sopping pussy dragging across Paige’s abdomen.

Last month you were a hopeless virgin. And now here you were, wanting to ride Uconn’s most beloved basketball star. 

You had made the decision before it even registered in your love drunk, horny-as-hell brain, and before you could stop yourself, you were marching across the hall to Paige’s apartment to demand that she take off her shirt and let you have your way with her.

Politely, of course. You weren’t an animal. 

You enter, not even bothering to knock, and you head towards Paige’s room. She was sitting at her desk, headphones on, and working on a paper for a class. 

She looks up with a smug smirk as you linger for a moment in the doorway, your reservations slamming back into you. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and hopeful, mixing deliciously with the want pouring from your pupils. 

Paige swivels in her chair, muscular legs spread dominantly, inviting you to perch primly on her thigh. She pats them, beckoning you to come to her. Your legs pull you towards her, your thoughts clouded with need, and you sit in her lap, curling into her presence. 

She strokes your cheek, her thumb rubbing across your soft skin in a way that has you sighing in pleasure as you sink into her warm embrace.

“You wanna ride me, don’t you?” She whispers against your ear, her breath sending anticipatory tingles down your spine.

“Yes, please,” you whimper, your voice catching as she begins tracing patterns onto your inner thigh close to your dripping pussy. 

“So polite f’me, aren’t you, baby?” Her voice is thick with want and husky. You wanted to drown in her words. 

“Please,” you whine, the word hanging on your tongue in a pathetic lilt. You were too desperate to care, the overwhelming need brewing in your pussy overpowering the anxiety you felt earlier. 

“Get on the bed,” Paige instructs, and you do exactly as she says, scrambling off of her lap and going to sit on the edge of it. She stares at you for a moment, wordlessly contemplating her next move as she runs a hand across her jaw, admiring your blatant display of submission. 

“Such a good girl,” she states, and the praise sends your head spinning. She stands up and walks right up to you, your eyes peering up curiously in a futile attempt to gauge her next move. 

“Clothes off, baby,” she says, and you waste no time pushing your leggings down your thighs and tossing your t-shirt onto the floor, leaving you in a lace bralette and a thong that was obviously soaked from your own arousal.

Paige notices, and as you lay down, she traces the damp spot with her finger, sending a jolt through your body as your swollen clit feels her touch. 

“Who got you this wet?” She questions, wanting you to tell her just how much you needed this. 

“You. Only you,” you reply breathlessly, already squirming under the heat of her touch. 

“Damn right,” she brags, tugging your bra off and leaving you nearly naked. Your nipples get even harder in the cool air of Paige’s bedroom before her warm mouth attaches to your right tit, licking and biting. 

You moan at the contact, your hands finding her stomach as she sucks hickies to the underside of your breasts, your fingers stroking over the flexing muscles underneath you. 

She was wearing too much clothing, and you whine in protest, begging for her to take off her clothes so there’d be less of a stark power imbalance between you. 

Her mouth leaves your skin as she kneels to take off her shirt and sports bra. Your pupils dilate as you get full access to the creamy skin and rippling muscles that you had become so fond of. You pull her down to meet you in a lustful kiss, moans pouring out of both of your mouths and echoing off of the walls in a passionate display. 

The arousal was building up in a way that was almost painful for you. “Please, need you so bad,” you cry, already trying to get on top of her. 

“I gotchu, baby,” she teases, shedding herself of her sweatpants and her boxers and laying down on the bed, head against her large pile of fluffy pillows. 

Your soaked thong gets thrown on the floor with the rest of the discarded clothes, leaving you fully naked. The afternoon sunshine peeking through the sheer curtains highlights your own arousal leaking down and coating your inner thighs in a way that was downright provocative. 

You straddle Paige, who guides your hips with strong hands anchoring you. Your hair is thrown over your shoulder, ass up in the air as you try to find a good position. 

Paige settles you down onto her stomach, immediately flexing. You gasp as you feel the tight abdominal muscles under your pussy, the feeling foreign and naughty. 

You drag your hips up and down, looking down as you see the aftermath of your dripping arousal pooling onto Paige’s skin. 

You were already panting, the erotic act leaving you needy and desperate to cum on top of the blonde girl. 

“C’mon,” she smirks. “Move those hips, ma.” 

And because you’d do absolutely anything Paige requested of you, you got to work creating a steady rhythm, alternating between grinding down onto her taut stomach and dragging your slick pussy up and down the length of it. 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, already nearing the brink of pleasure. “So, so good.” You were babbling, your thoughts clouded from the overwhelming sensations, fucked out and chasing your impending orgasm. 

Paige slaps your ass, one hand still gripping the flesh of your waist, the jolt of pain rushing through you, turning into pleasurable sparks. 

You lean down to connect your lips in another heated, sloppy kiss as you near the edge. Your movements lose the fluidity, and Paige, noticing, grabs your hips with a strong grasp and helps you ride out the final few strokes before you cum with a loud cry of her name on your tongue. 

Your hips stutter as you become overstimulated, your swollen clit begging for a break from the friction. 

Your breaths are ragged as you come down from your high, moving your hair out of your face and meeting Paige’s, who was grinning widely. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” she declares, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You giggle, still in shock, and you go to move off of her, your eyes widening as you see the amount of slick you left behind. 

Without thinking, you dip your head and lick a line up her abdomen, tasting the salt of her skin and your own arousal, and Paige’s breath hitches as your tongue traces her abs. 

“Oh, you’re definitely the horny one in this relationship,” she rasps, unsure if you were still the same timid girl she had met last month. 

You reach up to place a sweet kiss on her lips. “I’m okay with that,” you whisper.

~

Please let me know what you think! And as always, my inbox is open for requests or whatever else.

xoxo katy

Taglist:

@oldcrdigan, @paigebuxkets, @the-other-half, @patscorner, @tndaqlifwy , @ch12334 , @double22-k , @inthedeathofherreptuation , @authentic-girl03 , @blueredg52 , @kmoneymartini , @mrsarnold , @ittiwdwysylm @hobbybound @makethemhoesmad @moshuka @madivivic @bridgetloveswomen

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[witchywithwhiskey]

for so long as you live

pairing: mafia!bucky barnes x female reader

summary: the fearsome boss of new york city's russian mob proves a point about who you belong to

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), very mild dubcon, intoxication, fingering (f receiving), public play, finger sucking, choking, breathplay, very mild blood kink, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (printsessa), very possessive bucky

word count: 2.0k

a/n: i wrote this for @the-slumberparty's emoji game using these: 🍕❤️🔥 i hope the plot twist in this actually works (idk if it counts as a PLOT twist but whatever). i just hope it's surprising but still makes sense!!! also all the russian words are from google translate so if any are wrong, let me know and i'll fix them (translations are down at the bottom because one is a spoiler!) anyway i hope y'all enjoy!!

It was a warm summer night in New York City, the kind where even the breeze was pleasant enough that you didn’t resist when a balmy gust slipped beneath the hem of your short white dress and slid up your legs, tickling the soft skin of your thighs. 

Neither did you resist when the breeze was chased by the searching hand of Bucky Barnes, his fingers skimming up your smooth skin as he curled his body around yours in the back booth of the late night Brooklyn pizza parlor.

The front door of the shop was open, and all manner of drunken Brooklynites traipsed over the threshold, intent on ordering a greasy slice that would soak up some of the alcohol in their stomachs. The crowd was loud and rowdy and thankfully unobservant, because you were painfully aware that any one of them could very easily catch you with Bucky’s hand up your skirt. 

The back booth wasn’t nearly dark enough, nor secluded enough to hide you entirely from view, but the insistent desire and warming liquor pounding in your blood made it difficult to care. 

Bucky’s fingers slid another inch up your thigh, pressing between your soft curves until they found the wetness that had dripped from your folds and made a mess under your skirt. His rumbling chuckle felt like another warm, summer breeze, suffusing you in a heat that burned from the inside out. 

Your thighs fell open of their own accord, giving Bucky unfettered access to the place that ached for his touch, even as a protesting whine worked its way up your throat.

“Bucky…” you mewled, your reticence clear in your tone. Your fingers closed around the sinewy forearm that was disappearing up your skirt, intent on pulling him away from your soaking heat. Your nails dug into his golden skin when his other hand darted out and grabbed you by the throat. 

With his thumb pressed to the hinge of your jaw, he turned your face to him, a warning sparkling in his ice blue eyes. A thrum of fear and excitement churned low in your belly at the way Bucky was looking at you—like you were prey, and he was a predator who had already decided he was going to eat you for dinner.

“I hope you weren’t about to tell me not to touch this pussy, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, his voice deep and low like an oncoming thunderstorm. His hand wedged between your thighs beneath your skirt, shoving your legs wider so that he could cup your bare heat in his palm. “I hope you haven’t forgotten who this cunt belongs to.” 

Your breath was coming in short, rabbity pants, your heart racing in your chest and your blood pounding in your veins like you were running for your life. But your mind knew what your body did not—it would be pointless to run from Bucky Barnes. 

The Zimniy Soldat was the most feared boss in the city’s Russian mafia, a fact you’d learned the hard way when your father had paid off his debts by giving you to Bucky. 

Bucky’s gaze bore into your own as he pushed two fingers into your tight channel, his eyes watching hungrily as your face went slack with pleasure. 

“I’ll touch you whenever I want,” he growled, dragging his fingers back and plunging them into you again slowly, his eyes never straying from your face. “I’ll fuck you whenever I want—where ever I want.” 

His other hand held you pinned to the leather booth by your throat, your body responding so eagerly to his touch that it felt like a betrayal. His thumb and forefinger pressed into the sides of your neck making your pussy spasm around his fingers. 

Your body proved Bucky’s point before he made it as he rumbled, “This cunt belongs to me, printsessa.” 

You hadn’t said a word since his name, but your slow submission was clear in every little movement of your body—your thighs spreading even wider for Bucky’s hand, your limbs loosening and melting into his hold, your lips falling open in a soundless moan as he fingerfucked you. Bucky owned you, and you both knew it. 

And he relished your submission, even if you hadn’t quite accepted his possession of you yet. But you would.

The victorious smile that curved Bucky’s mouth was sharp and dangerous as a knife. When he spoke, though, his voice was as warm as the balmy summer breeze. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, “give yourself to me.” The ice in his eyes was slowly but surely melting as he watched pleasure dance across your face, his smile widening into something hot and hungry. “This life of yours is mine now, printsessa, but if you’re a good girl for me, I can make sure it’s filled with pleasure and happiness,” he purred, his lips brushing against the apple of your cheek, their softness followed by the rough scrape of his scruff. 

Bucky slid a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you wider and making you bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from crying out in pain-edged pleasure. Your chest heaved with the effort to stay quiet and, unbidden, a tear slipped from the corner of your eye while blood pooled on your lip. 

But Bucky never stopped fucking you with his fingers, his hand working your body expertly as the soft, wet sounds of your obscenely sopping cunt reached your ears. Instead, the Zimniy Soldat kissed the tear from your cheek and licked the blood from your swollen lip, pulling back to stare into your eyes as he watched you come undone for him. 

“You are mine,” he said with a tone of finality, as if his statement was an incontrovertible fact. Any protest you might’ve had—though in truth, you didn’t have any left—died in your throat as he choked you harder, his fingers working your pussy faster, grinding the heel of his palm into your wet, puffy clit as he continued on, pushing you to the edge of your release. “Moya printsessa, moya zhena.” 

You felt Bucky’s ring—your husband’s ring—smooth and unyielding and warm from his skin, slip inside your cunt as he buried his fingers in your body. He rubbed your clit ruthlessly until he made you come right there in the back of the pizza parlor, not caring if anyone in the crowded shop could see it.

Your left hand, bedecked in a dazzling white sapphire ring and matching wedding band, wrapped around the back of Bucky’s neck, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to the most dangerous man in all of New York City while he made you come harder than you ever had before. Pleasure tore through your body as you held Bucky’s warm blue gaze, staring at the man who’d staked his claim on you.

The man you’d married only a few hours prior because it was the only way to settle your father’s debts.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Bucky growled, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm, his eyes watching you hungrily, greedily.

Already, you could read him well enough to know he was thinking about watching you come on his cock as he claimed you in the most base, primal way possible. Your pussy clenched harder on his fingers at the thought, your body aching for it even as you came.

“Come all over your husband’s fingers—see how good I can be to you when you obey me, printsessa.” 

Your teeth had sunk deep into your lower lip to quell any sounds of ecstasy, but the pleasure was too much, too overwhelming, and you threw your head back. Your breathy cry was muffled by Bucky’s fingers choking your throat harder, which only wrung even more bliss out of your body as black crept into the edges of your vision. 

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, your husband’s relentless touch dragging out your release until your strangled moans devolved into desperate whimpers. Tears gathered in your lashes, and your entire body trembled in the red leather booth at the back of the pizza parlor.

Only then did Bucky relent. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured before his lips slammed down on yours, his mouth claiming yours just as surely as his fingers had claimed your cunt. 

He swallowed the keening whine you let out when he pulled his fingers from your throbbing pussy, your body aching at the loss of him. But then he replaced his mouth with them, pushing his fingers between your lips so you could taste your release—the release he’d wrung so masterfully from your body.

“Clean up your mess, moya zhena,” Bucky rumbled, his eyes sparkling with depraved delight as you dutifully licked his fingers clean.

When he decided you were done, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and let you collapse against his chest, your cheek pressed to his white cotton dress shirt—the one he’d worn to your wedding earlier that day. 

His jacket had been shed at some point during the party at one of his nightclubs—a club decorated in neon red hearts. Bucky had smirked in amusement when you’d pointed out the irony of celebrating your forced marriage in a place where the theme was love. 

That infuriating smirk had made you decide the best way to celebrate your sham nuptials was to drink and dance the night away. You’d spent your night trying not to notice how handsome the mob boss you’d married was, or how delicious he looked with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Or how a very small part of you enjoyed the way his eyes never strayed from you for long. 

It had been your idea to get some pizza after the club, a last ditch attempt to put off the wedding night you were certain Bucky expected. You kept telling yourself you didn’t want him to touch you, but the second his fingers had grazed your bare knee beneath the simple white dress you wore, tingles of pleasure going straight to your clit, you’d known it was no use pretending you didn’t want your new husband. 

When your father told you he’d arranged for you to marry the Zimniy Soldat in exchange for having his debts cleared, you never believed you could find anything to like about your mob boss husband. But Bucky had proven you very wrong in that back booth in the pizza parlor, and you were warming up to the idea of being Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes.

“Tell me you’re mine, printsessa,” Bucky rumbled, drawing your thoughts back to the present moment. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head where it was tucked under his chin, and your heart flipped happily in your chest.

The words were no less a command for the warmth in his tone that he seemed to reserve for only you, his new wife. 

Perhaps it was because of the pleasure still thrumming through your body, or because you weren’t so convinced anymore that being married to the Zimniy Soldat would be a bad thing, but the words came much easier to your lips than you would’ve expected. 

“I’m yours, my husband.” 

A pleased sound rumbled in Bucky’s throat and you felt the way his heart beat harder in his chest with your cheek pressed to his sternum. You couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips when Bucky threaded the fingers of his left hand through yours, your matching rings slotting next to each other and glittering beneath the yellow lights of the pizza parlor.

“You’ll be happy with me,” Bucky promised, the most recent of many vows he’d made to you that day. His words rang with determination and an emotion you’d never expected to hear from the mob boss—adoration. “So long as you always remember you belong to me, moya zhena.” 

A shiver of delight raced down your spine at his possessive words, finding yourself liking them much more than you would’ve thought. 

Something told you that you’d never forget you belonged to Bucky Barnes. Not at any point during the hopefully long and happy life you were going to live with him. You were his wife, and he was your husband, for so long as you both should live.

translations:

printsessa/moya printsessa - princess/my princess

Zimniy Soldat - Winter Soldier

moya zhena - my wife

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Something About Curly Hair and Any Character You Have in Mind

I've always had a fantasy of someone playing with my curls. Delicately pulling on them, like a kid pulling on a string. Playfully and adoringly watching the curl bounce back. Maybe the person could even praise it, saying it's cute, or beautiful, or mesmerising. Especially if they don't have curly hair.

A few minutes ago, my girl friend did it to me, exactly how I've always dreamed, even if inside I wanted to pull away, afraid that she would mess it up, I didn't, and she didn't, and even if she did, I wouldn't care, because I'm starved. So here's this little scenario that I finally felt courage and inspiration to write.

This was written based on my own experience having 123B hair, that has some volume on it (how do you even measure that??), with definition, so you must imagine it was very indulgent.

Also works for Readers of any race!!!! I just specify they have natural curls, didn't even mention the colour.

Gn!Reader and Gn!Character so you reaaaally can imagine whoever you want. But the character probably doesn't have curly hair, and learns to do different hairstyles on you (it's different doing it on yourself and then doing on other people, so you still can imagine any gender or appearance on them). Sex is mentioned. I'm tagging this with the first characters that come to my mind while writing this, just to make it easier.

Might edit this later because it's currently 3am and I'm sleepy as fuck

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They love you. That means they love everything about you. And they love your hair.

They think the volume is sexy. Think clouds can't be softer. Think the way the light reflects on it is ethereal. Think the curls smells heavenly. Think the shape is unmatched.

When you move your hair, it's like being a kid and having a first crush again. Especially if the action causes the delicate smell of it travel through the air faster than they can blink, and they're swallowed in a fog of you.

When you sleep in the same bed together for the first time, and every other time after, they like to wake up before you. Just to admire your peacefull beauty for a while. Like the rest of the world doesn't exist. That's the best way to start a day.

Sometimes, boredom doesn't get to them because tracing curl patterns in your hair with their eyes is entertainment for a lifetime. Never before have they noticed that someone can have more than one curl texture, and how unique and perfect that mixture can look.

There's moments where they get distracted by you. You, taking their attention from something supposedly more important at that moment. Either you smell too nice, or look too good, or shine too bright. And they just can't seem to find anything more interesting than looking at you and your hair.

The first time they touched it, they were surprised by how soft it was, like cotton. Almost weightless, despite it's volume and length. Other people's hair surely doesn't feel like this. They spend so much time touching it the first time, that you have to ask them to stop, or you wouldn't have a nice hair day the next day. They looked like a kicked puppy, so you taught them to gently scrunch from the bottom.

They think bonnets are funny at first, but not in a bad way. They're not laughing at you. Mostly giggling, actually. They understand you may have needed some courage to look like this with them around. And it's like a tiny, almost nonexistent, relationship goal. To be intimate enough to feel confortable wearing a bonnet in front of your partner. And they love that you have no problem doing it.

They even buy silk sheets and pillows if it might help you. It might be morte confortable and not mess with your hair. And they understands sex while having curly hair might be frustrating at times.

Speaking of, they won't pull or mess with it unless you ask for it. They took very seriously your lesson from the first time. And if you have some instructions to give them on how to do it while causing less damage, then you certainly will lift a weight off some shoulders.

Oh, and the difference of how it looks when it's wet and then dry? They can't believe their eyes for a moment. Logic seems to escape. It feels impossible. But it isn't. And they're amazed. Almost jealous for not being as gorgeous as you. They understand why someone would be jealous of you.

Actually, they partially think others should be. If someone dares to utter you are less than stunning, then oh boy. God help them.

Any styling is great. And they're so in love with you, so focused on you, eyes solely on you, that they think no hairstyle looks as good on other people, as they look on you. Even if you hate it, he thinks it looks way better than it would have on anyone else.

Also, they learn some things. They learns to curl with their fingers, how to put on clips, how to do some braids, or buns, or pigtains, or anything you wear often. Even something you never did, but they think will make you ethereal, they will do it on you. They might not even teach you, just so you'll need them for something.

They feel part of their heart breaking if you straighten it. Sure it looks good. If it makes you happy, than they're happy. But it's far from a favorite look on you. It's not the natural you. And they love you. They might love a modified version of you, but only because they love you. Just the way you are.

And if you ever feel insecure, I assure you, they're gonna fix you right up.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Female reader and Leona Kingscholar, heat and breed please!

Warnings: Leona in a rut, oral (f! receiving), biting, breeding kink, unprotected sex, big dick lion ig?, always have your partner’s consent just like Leona has yours, creampie

Leona Kingscholar

When this man goes into his rut, he is an insatiable beast. It’s not even that he actually wants kids, but the thought of filling you up made him so hard that he couldn’t help himself but keep you full of his cum.

It was a mistake, really, walking into his room because you were so worried about him. Actually, a lot of Savanaclaw was on lockdown, and you were worried about your boyfriend. A few of the students who were still out and about warned you about going into the dormitory, let alone Leona’s room, but that made you even more concerned.

Once you opened the door, you heard the lion in question groaning. You called out his name, worried that he might be in some sort of pain. 

“Y/N, I need you to leave… now,” he growled.

“What’s wrong, Leona? Your dorm is on lockdown-”

You were cut off by him, because you blinked and suddenly you were pinned to the now-closed door.

“I said that you need to leave.” You expected him to be angry, but instead he had a look of desperation. He was pleading with you. You could feel the intense heat with how close he was. His hair was more disheveled than usual, a telltale sign that something was wrong.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on!” You insisted. He bore his teeth, his canines showing. You were starting to get a bit scared before he pushed off of you. “Leona?”

“Some of the beastmen in the dorm are going into their ruts. Did you walk all the way over here? In the midst of all this?! Where all these guys can smell you?!!!” His mind was racing a million miles a minute. How could you be this stupid? How could you come here, to a place with a bunch of guys going through this??

“You weren’t responding to my texts or calls, and I was getting worried!” This guy must have purchased his audacity because any girlfriend would be understandably worried when their boyfriend wasn’t responding.

He went quiet for a few moments. He was looking away from you, and you were worried that something was truly wrong. But, in the light, you saw a sheen of sweat on his face and you saw that his face was tinged with red. He was panting. You also noticed the not-very-subtle bulge in his pants.

Oh. Oh shit.

Now is when you process his words. The entire dorm was on lockdown because they are in their rutting seasons…

A certain familiar wetness made itself known between your legs, and Leona’s pupils dilated at smelling your arousal. What have you gotten yourself into? And why were you excited to find out?

In a matter of seconds, you could feel passionate kisses trailing up and down your neck, and you were powerless against it. The lion that you had called your boyfriend up to this point was nowhere to be found, and he had gone quite feral. However, he was still a gentleman.

“Y/N, this is your last chance to leave. If you stay, I won’t be able to control myself.” Leona managed to pull away for a few seconds to utter those words right next to your ear, and you felt your stomach flutter.

“Good, because I don’t want you to control yourself.” Was all you said, and you were hoisted up into the air, pinned to the door once again. You wrapped your legs around his torso to make sure you didn’t slip as you both began to make out. 

The beastman pulled away first, making sure to bite your bottom lip. However, the space wasn’t open for very long. It was just enough time to take you from the door to his bed. If he was going to make you his mat, he wanted to do it properly. Wait… mating? When did that come into play??

Doesn’t matter because he places his hands on the inside of your thighs a bit to separate them so he could slide your shorts and panties off easier. The smell emanating from the heat between your legs was heavenly.

Leona found himself quickly climbing off so that he could unbuckle his belt and take off his pants and boxers, revealing a length you weren’t sure you could handle. He saw your eyes widened, and so he crawled between your legs and started licking at your exposed folds.

His tongue had a bit of a rougher texture, not quite like a cat, but not quite like a human. It was something in-between, and it worked for your benefit. The sensation had you writhing and squirming in pleasure… that was, until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders.

“You’re not going anywhere, herbivore,” he mumbled straight into your pussy before going back to eating you out. 

Even though this was supposed to be to prepare you for his cock, this was also for his pleasure. Being surrounded by your smell and getting to taste your juices was all he could ever ask for. He left hickies and bite marks on your thighs as well. His canines drew blood on one of the marks, and he licked it up which made you whimper.

When he deemed you wet enough, he climbed up and lined his tip up with your entrance.

“It’s going to hurt, and you can tell me to stop whenever you want. If I don’t, slap me or some shit. I don’t want to do anything without your consent,” you nodded at his words, but he shook his head. “I need words, Y/n.”

“Please, Leona! I want you in me!” You moaned, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. That’s when the last shred of sanity was barely hanging on.

He slowly entered you, giving you time to adjust to his size. You winced in pain, and once he was fully inside, he stopped. Your walls were squeezing the life out of him, and a groan made its way from out of his mouth. It was taking all of his willpower not to just rail you into oblivion.

After a few moments, he started slowly pulling back out, and the feeling was unlike anything else. He thrust his cock back in, and your eyes rolled back. Leona took this as an okay to start moving quicker. Your pussy squeezed him so hard, every time he pulled out it was like a magnet, calling for him to go back in. 

The coil in your belly unraveled not too far into your session with him. You soaked his cock in your juices, and he let out a deep, sexy growl before speeding up even more. Your overstimulated cunt was weeping and begging for more, and she got what she asked for. 

“Where do you want my cum, herbivore?” He was nearing his own release, and he looked into your eyes.

“Inside… Inside, please!” You mewled. You locked your legs around him, locking him in place.

Not too long after, you felt an explosion of warmth inside of you, and Leona leaned into your neck, biting into it and drawing even more blood. His tongue gently ran over it to clean it up, and he placed kisses along it as well.

He tried to pull back and admire his work, wanting to see you in your entirety. However, your legs were not letting go. Where you both remained connected, your juices were mixing with another, and some were getting on the sheets as well. Not that the Housewarden minded; it would remind him of the day he got to claim you as his own.

Your walls began squeezing him again, also not wanting to let go of him. Even though it hasn’t even been a full 5 minutes since you both came, he was hard again and you were aroused again.

“If we go again, herbivore, I might knock you up. Shit, I might have already. Do you want that?” He leaned more towards your ear, whispering. “Do you want to be filled with my cubs?”

And with that, you both fucked in every. possible. position. for the entire week he was in rut. You barely caught a break, and you were often on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

[inklore]

— the stranger / qimir x f!reader. the jedi have hidden many things from you about the dark side. like how good pleasure can feel and he is more than happy to show you. contents: dubcon, fingering, blood, death, light choking | wc: 881+

Everyone’s dead. 

The other Jedi. 

Your master. 

Your friends.

Everyone’s dead, and you’re….you should be dead. Your blood should be pooling around your lifeless body, painting the green of the grass into something opaque and poetically mixing with the blood of your friends.

The friends you trained with. 

The friends you love. 

You should be lying lifelessly beside them. With honor and pride for fighting till the very end. That should have been your fate. Your ending. How this bloodbath too its close.

Not this. 

Not backed against a tree by the monster who killed those friends you love so much, making you feel….good. 

Good when you’re surrounded by death. 

Good when you can smell burning flesh with each shuddering inhale that inflates your shaking body, 

"It's really simple. So simple. The Jedi like to teach that it’s complex. Light, dark. As if the two can’t mingle, change. Warp. Meld together as one thing entirely. I can show you.” He had said as he stepped closer. Each syllable coming from his mouth matched his foot steps until he was right in front of you, and there was no longer anywhere to go. 

Your saber long gone. Destroyed in the chaos of blood and bodies. The safety of a weapon, of an escape, is gone when there’s no space left between the two of you. 

“It won’t hurt,” you flinched away from his fingers when he brushed them against your cheek. A twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Quite the opposite. There is more to the darkness than your precious Jedi have taught you. It can heal. It can teach.” His eyes swept over your heaving chest, following a trail up the column of your neck to your mouth, making a chill prick the bottom of your spine. “It can please. Give you a type of pleasure not even the flow of light can bring to you. Let me show you.” 

Your jawbone ached when he grabbed it after you had shaken your head. After you all but spat in his face about how much of a monster he was. How he’s going to regret what he’s done. Making a stand for yourself with a voice as weak as you felt. 

“You Jedi, so closed off in your ways. Never open to something more enlightening. Accepting the other possibilities of being. Of feeling. How can you be all knowing?” His fingers moved from your jaw down to your neck, and the race of your heart accelerated when he wrapped his fist around it. The light pressure had been enough to make your body go into fight or flight. Your hands coming up to grip his wrist. “Let me teach you. I can feel it,” his thumb tapped your pulse point, “in your blood. You’re not like the others. You’re smarter. Be smart.” His head tilted further into your space, making his mouth inches from yours, “you might find by the end of it you want me to show you more.” 

That’s how you got to where you are now. 

The Strangers hand between your thighs, while the other still holds its grip on your neck. His jaw twitching with every moan you try to hold back. His grip on your neck tightening when you try to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any noise slip out. Making your mouth pull open, his mouth following the same motion in a pleased smirk. 

You’d realized half way into this, half way through the haze, that you could have slipped loose. He’d given you a proper opening to do so. But you hadn’t. Had let yourself be tempted and consumed, willingly.

The fact only adds to the churning in your lower stomach.

The hand between your thigh making your legs shake, your body contorting against the tree. Rolling against his palm, your swollen clit rubbing along the heel of his hand as the two fingers inside of you curl and make you cry out into the night. 

Your mind is a mess of pleasure and darkness that not even closing your eyes helps you sift through. To bring you back to the light you’ve had inside of you since birth. To ground yourself enough to use the many skills of the force you’ve been taught. 

Each time your eyes close, the pleasure feels worse. More intense. Like the deadliest kind of hallucinogen—his voice, his fingers, his face are there. Images of his mouth on your neck, body, lips, replacing his hand, projected through your head like a fog engulfing your entire being. 

It completely engulfs you, and you almost forget what it is like not to be consumed by the allure of darkness. Making your body ultimately crave more.

You don’t know if it’s real or not when you feel his lips brush against your ear and he says, “things that are this reactive to something so minuscule compared to everything else that can be given to it were meant to feel this good.” You shake your head, the walls of your pussy fluttering, swelling around his fingers. “You’re about to come on my fingers, what’s more proof than that that your body seeks the truth. You were meant for all the things the darkness can give.” 

[bunny-jpeg]

sponsors

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, team principal au, driver!reader, bikinis, age gap (20/45), yachts, teasing, protective!max, objectification/misogyny, max makes it all better, praise (kink), power dynamics

a/n: happy birthday max verstappen and happy ten years at formula one!

a big part of formula one was to get sponsors, very few people could pay for a team on their own. thus, the hefty logos across the racer's jackets. and while teams like ferrari had decades long sponsors, a new team like verstappen racing had to get what they could get.

and that max having to put his best media smile on and dazzle any prospective sponsors. but, max also needed your help. so when he asked you join him on his boat during the mid-season break you happily smiled and said, "of course."

you learned early on that a lot of men liked you because you were young, pretty and knew a lot about cars. but, you never thought that it would get to this level. while you thought you'd be sitting beside him over drinks.

not the one serving them. in a bikini.

"mister verstappen." you said as you picked up the bikini from the bed in one of the rooms on the boat. it was white and looked like it would cover very less.

max came up behind you and placed his hands on your hips, "i know... a little unconventional. i promise, i'm not whoring you out. just serve some drinks and that'll be it."

"it feels degrading."

max kissed your neck and replied, "don't worry. no one will try to touch you. i'll make sure of that." while he wanted the sponsors, you were still his. so he'd make sure that you were protected, that was a promise.

you turned your head to look at him and he kissed your forehead. before you went for his lips. you held onto the bikini tighter, "will this be good for the team?"

max nodded, "of course, it means we can get those upgrades for the second half of the season. also their company will make us seem more legitimate."

"then let's do it." then smiled at your boss, a little more assured. you could handle the leering, you were used to it. but with a promise from max about your safety, you felt more assured that it'll all work out.

a white bikini with your hair back a little, paired with heeled sandals and the chain around your neck that had max's logo on it. you were more quiet than usual, letting your boss talk business. you knew these men were from italy, and while they eyed you while you were at the bar getting their drinks, you kept any words to yourself.

this was business, as max once told you. you raced, he did all the behind the scenes work. that was what a team principal did. you brought the drinks over on a platter and gave max's his first.

you bent over to be closer to your boss and he patted your face with his rough hand which made you smile. he whispered in your ear, "good job, did you make the drink a little stronger for them?"

you looked at him and smiled. you looked almost proud of yourself. max had to plaster a smile on his face to keep it together. you were eye candy right now, and even max was feeling the effects of it. when you pulled away, and tried to give the other drinks to the men across from max, one of them stuck their foot out a little bit.

you tripped, but didn't spill a drop of liquor on the floor. you caught yourself even in the heels and made a loud yelp noise.

"she's a better server than a driver." one of the men spoke in italian. impressed that you didn't see the drinks get spilled. he did almost see your ass spill out of the bottom of the swim suit.

max's eyes stayed on you as you tried to compose yourself. he could tell that almost tumble made you a little shaky, "i assure you, she is a lot better on the track." he smiled.

"is she... for sale tonight?" the other man asked as you handed him his drink. max knew you didn't speak italian, so you had no idea what was being said about you. the man continued, "she's beautiful and would be a fairly good ride for the evening. what do you say mister verstappen?"

max relaxed against his seat and chuckled, "my drivers are not whores." then took a sip of his drink then looked to you. he said in english, "she is one of the best racers i know." and you looked at him.

you beamed at your boss as you held the platter to your chest. when you went to put it back at the bar and come back to the three men, max adjusted his posture and allowed you room to sit on his lap. you took it as him eager to be close to you, but in reality he was staking an ownership.

no, max wasn't going to whore you out to these businessmen. firstly, he had too much respect for you, and secondly, you were already his.

"i do not like when those touch what is mine." he spoke in italian as he got an arm around your waist, "she is a driver for verstappen racing, not a street walker. do not refer to her as such."

one of the businessmen laughed, "always stubborn, verstappen. but i am impressed that you managed to find someone so young. look at how she is in your lap. trained like a puppy."

you looked to max in the hope he'd translate, but instead he rubbed your head. you rested up against. he had his drink and chatted, he shifted the topic from the beautiful woman in his lap.

but yet, the curl of jealousy stayed in max's gut. he hid it well and when the other men tried to make comments, he brushed them off. he already made his position known. even if throughout the afternoon, he wanted to punch these men in the face. but, that wouldn't look good on him. and it would scare you. you've seen max get loud during races, but never, even get violent.

he kept himself composed through two gin and tonics that you happily served to him. but when he waved the men off the boat at the end of the afternoon with a promise of a healthy sponsor contract, max's gazed turned to you.

these men were talking about the entire afternoon like you were a piece of meat on sale. and maybe max invited it by dressing you up like that. but, it still didn't make it right. max soon had his arm around you and you looked up at him with a smile.

he kissed you on the lips and pulled you closer to him. "you did so well." he said before he gave you another kiss, "but i want you out of this now. i think this will be for my eyes from now on." his hand dropped to your ass where he gave is a good squeeze.

you both ended up in the bedroom once more, your kicked those stupid sandals off and before you could get the bikini off. he stopped you. you looked at him and he looked back at you.

"i want to take it off."

take it off of you was like unwrapping a gift, your skin warmed from the afternoon sun as you smiled at him warmly. oh, you were divine. but, he bet you knew that. he got you naked save for the necklace.

you laid out on the bed and smiled at him, "we did good today."

he took off his button up shirt and took it off his shoulders. he could feel your hungry gaze on him as he got undressed. he smiled a little, "you did excellent." once he was naked, he got into bed with you and took your face in his hands, then pulled you in for a searing kiss.

you squirmed against him a little before you melted a little in his touch. your heart beat picked up and you moaned against his lips. you were so naked and vulnerable for him.

"my prize driver." he remarked as he pushed hair out of your face and chuckled, "you are perfect. turning heads wherever you go." he laughed a little, "you make me proud."

and you felt something bloom in your chest as you said, "thank you sir." then yelped when he got on top of you and rested on his heels. his cock stood at proper attention.

he thought about how he took your virginity. you had admitted one night that you had never slept with someone before and your best friend was a rabbit in your suitcase. so even now, as he rubbed his cock up against against your wet slit, it still excited him.

of course he wasn't going to whore you out, not when the only cock you had was his. he took you by the hips and then guided his cock into your sweet sex. he shuddered a little as he pushed all the way in.

you really were the prettiest thing at the paddock, with your darling smile and cute laugh. you knew how to have a good time and while you were stubborn at times, you melted into your boss' grasp like honey. you were painfully sweet, even when max told you to put on your winning face before you raced. max was fortunate that he got a hold of you before anyone else.

"you did so good for me, schat." he spoke to you softly as he held onto your highs and rutted against you, "you played the part so well. i hate what those men said about you. they treated you like meat, took everything in me to not kill them."

you pouted a little as you held onto the covers under you, "what did they say about me?" you knew the conversation was animated, but you could only pick up a few words. but their gazes on you were intense.

max pushed into you further, making you rest on your tailbone, "they're dogs, my little racer." he said with hate in his tone, "they're dogs who deserve nothing. for men that rich, they are stupid. they should know that you're mine."

"did they want to fuck me?" you asked as you tried to reach for his shoulders. his cock hit against the softest parts of you and your back arched a little from the feeling.

max nodded, "but, i'd never let them do that." he assured you, "no, no, no, never. that was why you were so close to me for most of the afternoon. i didn't want them alone with you."

you looked at him and nodded, "my hero."

max smiled a little as he leaned forward, hiking your hips up more to hit at just the right angle. his lips captured yours as you moaned against the feeling. it all felt perfect. and while you felt a little objectified, it was hard to do so when max made sure that you felt special. that you were more than just a sex object.

"you did good." he said, "you did excellent. thank you for putting up with them. i promise i won't make you do that again." he kissed at your jaw with love, "no one can touch you the way i can. alright? you're mine."

you nodded, "of course, sir. always sir!" you held onto him a little tighter as the pleasure swarmed your gut. the kissed got hotter as your bodies moved together. you didn't realize what max meant by being 'his', you thought simply it was that you were part of his team. that sex was just an added bonus.

but that wasn't what max meant, he wanted you in every way he could have you. you were the subject of his fantasies, he had seen you in every way a man could. the dinners he took you out to, the better car he put you in. the way he held your lower back while you walked through the paddock. you assumed it was because you were a good driver! not that max wanted you carnally. silly little driver.

"you're so special." he said, "you knew how to turn heads and make anyone fall in love with you." he was talking like he hadn't staked a claim on you. like he hadn't taken you under his wing to be the best driver you could be. you were cute, sweet, max didn't want any bad men to hurt you.

you whimpered against his movements, getting louder. but thankfully no one could hear you. you knew of the rumour mill surrounding you and max. what people had said both in the tabloids and in the garage. it wasn't hard to draw conclusions when max was constantly with you, his hands on you that could be seen as romantic. but, when others asked about your relationship with max verstappen, you simply smiled and said, "he's the best boss ever."

even when he was bruising your sweet pussy. his cock nudging up against your g-spot which made you whimper and squirm. it was cute, you were cute. most team principals didn't bed their drivers daily, but there were always exceptions.

"please, sir." you said, "it feels good!" you clung to him a little tighter and he responded with heavy kisses.

max could feel his heart hammering in his chest. he could feel your nails into his shoulders as you held onto him. his cock was perfect inside of you. he knew if he got your knocked up by next week, there would be no surprises. except maybe for you. even though he frequently finished inside of you. you loved the feeling and who was max to deny his superstar.

he felt something run up his spine as he continued to move against you. when he broke the kiss and looked at you with those blue eyes of him. he soaked in the sight of you, on the verge of climax.

his beautiful driver.

with a few more heavy thrusts of his hips, you squirmed further and climaxed around his cock. you clenched onto him and almost bit into his strong shoulder as you felt your heart beat pick up. a strained moan left you lips before you relaxed on the bed.

max drank in that sight, he kissed your cheek and said, "perfect. like always." because he pushed you up further, almost bending you in half to really work his cock into you. even with the dull throb in his knee (which made him briefly think about the age gap), he continued to bully his cock into you.

it didn't take long before he finished inside of you as well. he tensed up for a moment as he held onto your hips. he hissed through grit teeth as the pleasure came down on him. only you could make him lose control like that.

"good girl." he said as he put your bottom half back down on the bed and pulled out of you. you laid out in a heated mess on the bed and he laid down beside you.

he kissed your neck and shoulder as you settled down. he praised your silently with kissed along your heated skin. next time he wouldn't put you in that bikini, but if it was just you two on the boat. then maybe he'd put you in it for his eyes only.

-

by the time the season started up again, you were all smiles with a new logo on your uniform. the updates to the car were made to both yours and your teammates. and when you held the trophy over your head for the following grand prix, max couldn't help but beam as he clapped.

"we did it, sir!" you chirped as you pulled him into a hug. your joy at winning warmed him, just as you were going to warm his cock come evening as a thank you for getting you closer to the wdc. <3

[munsonsmixtapes]

hello! not sure if you've written this already, but how about biker!eddie finding a spot to make you ride him/fuck you dumb on his very metal motorbike after a night riding through the city? :)

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) degradation, use of the words whore and slut

When Eddie got the motorcycle, you were a bit hesitant. You've heard about how dangerous they can be and were just concerned about your boyfriend getting hurt. But the second he pulled up to your apartment building, you swore you were drooling because of how hot he looked. From then, all you've been able to imagine is him fucking you stupid while you sit on the seat.

That's not all you can think about when he takes you for rides. You've had to take care of yourself multiple times afterwards because you're too afraid to ask Eddie. He is your best friend after all and that's not the kind of relationship you have.

But god, you want him so bad it's gotten to the point where all you want is ask him to drive you somewhere private and have him take you right there, fucking you hard and deep then take you home where he has to carry you up to your apartment because you're unable to walk.

Eddie's not as oblivious as you think he is, though. He knows very well how badly you want him as is just waiting for you to say something. And if he's being honest, he's thought about that exact thing more times that he can count. Imagining you spread out on his bike as he fucks your brains out is something that constantly plays in his head.

It's gotten to the point where last week, he actually almost did that exact thing, but decided against it. He doesn't know why, he just chickened out at the last second. But tonight, he's going to go for it. The second he finds a good spot, he's going to pull in and go to town.

When he picks you up, he can't help but noticed that you're dressed differently. Instead of the jeans and t-shirt he's used to, you're in a dress. a dark blue short one that leaves almost nothing up to the imagination. and fuck does that make him hard.

You rush over to him and and get onto the bike before taking the helmet from Eddie, putting it on your head then holding onto him for dear life as he peels out of his parking space.

You rest your head against Eddie's back and he's so grateful that you can't see his hard on right now. You'll see it soon enough anyway. He knows you wore that dress on purpose and he doesn't know if it's because you actually want him to fuck you or if it's just to torture him. Either way, you're going to get fucked tonight.

You both fly through the city, the pretty lights the background to your adventure. You notice that Eddie's going faster than usual, but you don't say anything about it. There has to be a reason and you really hope it's what you think it is. You want that dress to be ruined by the time he's done with you and you have to clench your legs as you think about it.

Eddie pulls into an alley and your heart is racing as you smile brightly, your dream finally coming true. You're beginning to think that maybe that manifestation session wasn't for nothing after all.

He stops right in the middle and gets off the bike, removing his helmet and tossing it to the side before doing the same with yours. Before you can even process what's happening, he presses his lips to yours, grabbing hold of your hips and pulling you to sit sideways on the seat of the bike.

You spread your legs and Eddie steps between them as his tongue flicks into your mouth, the two of you moaning as he does so, the kiss slowing down as you take the time to taste each other. He tastes like cigarettes and you taste sweet like candy.

Eddie nips at your bottom lip and you whine as he pushes your dress up around your waist, only pulling away to get a good look at you, letting out a gasp at what he sees in the dim lighting of the alley.

"Baby, you're not wearing any underwear."

"I know," you reply as you bat your eyelashes, biting down on your bottom lip. "I wanted to speed up the process."

"Thought your were going to get lucky tonight, did you?" He asks as he unbuttons his pants and lets then drop around his ankles.

"I did. And clearly it worked," you tell him as your gaze drops to his underwear which he also pulls down, showing his rock hard cock that you can barely see in the terrible lighting.

"I guess it did," he says as you pull a condom out of your purse, handing it to him and he's quick to put it on before he grabs onto your hips, already going for it as he slides inside you.

You're already stretched out and he's grateful for that as he pumps in and out of you hard and fast as he spreads your legs wider so he has more room to fit inside. You already feel weightless and Eddie is quick to hold onto you so you don’t fall, his hands resting on your back as he continues to move quickly.

“Oh my god,” you moan, burying your face into Eddie’s shoulder, biting down on him to show him how much you’re enjoying it.

“Fuck, taking me so well,” he compliments. “If you can behave, I’ll take you back to my place and I’ll make you my whore.”

Eddie has always had a mouth on him and you had heard from girls in the city that he always knew what to say in the bedroom, you just never thought you’d be on the receiving end of those filthy words.

“I can-behave,” you tell him as he finally gets all of him inside you, taking your breath away as he does so. You can tell every inch of him as he stays there for a second, pressing a kiss to your lips as he starts back up again, full sending as he fucks into you as hard and as fast as he can, moan after delicious moan fall from his lips.

One of the street light reflects on the side of his face and you pull back just in time to take the most beautiful mental picture of him mid-moan. His mouth is wide open, sweat forming on his forehead, his hair a perfect mess. It’s something that should be in a museum for everyone to admire because it’s just that pretty.

“More,” you beg. “Need more.”

“You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you. Already given you all of my cock and you want more?”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“Fine,” he says as he pushes inside of you once again, but he stays there, wanting to see exactly how long you can take it. You clench around him as your back arches and just when he thinks you’re about to give out, you orgasm, a hot, loud moan escaping your lips as you do so.

“That’s it,” he says as you collapse into his arms, your face going back to the crook of his neck. “Now c’mon,” he nods his head towards the exit of the alley. “I think you’ve behaved well enough to have earned your treat.”

And with that, Eddie pulls out and fixes your dress before tossing the condom to the side and getting dressed. Once he’s back on the bike, you put all of your weight on him as you fall asleep on the way back to Eddie’s apartment where he fulfills his promise by making you how whore over and over until he’s fucked you absolutely stupid.

[lansfavboy]

hey i’ve got a request! i don’t know if you do top!oscar/bottom!lando but something post-silverstone where oscar’s raging and has nowhere to put his anger and landos there and willing and the moment sorta builds up and it gets crazy from there

hi anon!! my first request and i'm so very happy x hope you enjoy!!

♡ pairing: bottom!lando norris x top!oscar piastri ♡ warnings: post silverstone, angst if you squint, VERY SMUTTY, free use lando?, degrading language, very brief hatred towards magui, dubcon if you squint, oral & anal, not proofread! ♡ word count: 1.3k

Silverstone didn’t go as Oscar wanted.

It was obvious. A forced smile on the podium, the pissed off radio message after a mistake a 4 time world champion made on a weekly basis.

None of it was fair. 

Now he was standing in his driver room, absolutely fuming, hands in his hair, pulling a bit too hard to be considered ‘okay,’ pacing like a stressed team principal.

Lando had disappeared somewhere, probably getting head from his stupid current toy, who followed him around like a lost puppy. Magui was like that with a lot of men, as Oscar had learnt from his coworkers chatting shit about her.

The thought of them together pissed him off even more. Lando should be here with him, doing his usual speech of “it’s okay, mate, next time, yeah? Just a silly mistake.”

He knew he’d liked him for a while. His body, at least. The tan abs, the perfectly sculpted biceps, the goatee he’d dreamt about seeing covered in his own cum late at night. 

Too good for Magui. Too out of reach for Oscar.

A knock on the door broke his train of thought, the Aussie reluctantly spinning on his heel to open it a bit too aggressively.

Lando.

Like he’d manifested it.

The older man gave a shy smile, almost bashful.

“Yes?” He didn’t mean to sound so rude, truly. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Lando swallowed, stepping in with his P1 cap still covering his curls, smelling like champagne and victory.

“I uhh- wanted to see you. Make sure you were alright after… ya know.”

Oscar held back a scoff, wiping a hand over his face in frustration. Of course he wasn’t ‘alright.’ His race was ruined and the team didn’t give a flying fuck. Suddenly Alpine didn’t seem like a bad option anymore; at least they’d value him.

“Brilliant, mate.”

Lando sighed, leaning back on the now shut door and crossing his arms across his soaked chest. 

“Don’t be like that, Oscar; just admit it wasn’t the right move.”

Oh. So we’re doing this?

Oscar scoffed, stepping closer and gripping the shorter man's jaw, forcing him to look up at him.

“Are you shitting me? You say you’re here to check on me and then decide to rile me up more? Fucking hell, Lando.”

Lando stared up defiantly, that usual somewhat frustrated look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about helping you at least a little.”

“And you’ll help me how? Tell Stella to stop the damn favouritism? You’re in the wrong place for that, mate.”

Lando rolled his eyes, semi-pulling away from Oscar’s grip. They’d both only just realised how close they were currently standing, chests scraping the other.

“I’m just- I’m here if you need to, like…” he made some odd hand movements, gesturing to Oscar like he couldn’t find the correct words. “If you have to expel any extra emotions. You know.”

Oscar paused.

Took a breath.

Stared at Lando’s eyes, which at this point were practically begging him to catch on so he wouldn’t have to spell it out.

“You’ll let me fuck you?”

Lando hesitated, then nodded.

Oscar didn’t need to be told twice. He was on him in a second.

His lips found Lando’s neck instantly, his teeth scraping along his adams apple, causing a shiver down both mens spines. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” Oscar’s tone was gravelly and desperate as he sucked a hickey into the other’s neck, not caring who’d see it. There was no media work until the end of the month. Who cared?

The whine that slipped out of Lando’s mouth made him think he’d wanted it just as long. He probably hated his girlfriend, just waiting for a chance to escape her.

Oscar’s hand left his jaw to lock the door, returning to palm his bulge, earning a groan out of the Brit before pushing him to his knees.

“You wanna help? Suck.”

Lando tugged Oscar’s shorts down, hands lingering on his thighs. He’d always had a fixation on them, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

His cock sprang out quickly like it’d been waiting for the chance to finally make an appearance, already dripping and hard after just a few kisses. His eyes caught Lando’s, the previous frustration replaced by surprise.

“Jesus- you’re fucking packing in there mate.”

“Don’t call me mate when you’re about to choke on me, Lando.”

He forced his head down before he could reply, hand threading through his hair and guiding him slowly and deeply.

Lando was already choking and drooling, tears pooling in his eyes as he took him in inch by inch. 

“Atta boy… so good, Lan. Choke on it for me.”

Oscar began to quicken his guidance, a groan echoing into the tiny room, mouth falling open as Lando continued—though it isn’t like he had any choice with the grip Oscar currently had on him.

As the Aussie got closer, he yanked Lando off, pulling him up and bending him over the massage table Kim had left prior to his shitshow of a race.

“You’re gonna take it. You’re gonna be loud. You’re gonna let me cum inside you. Got it?”

“Yes- yes, Osc-”

Oscar slid a hand under his waistband to grab a handful of his arse before pushing his joggers down and kneeling behind him.

“No boxers, hm? Slut. Knew what was coming.”

His tongue slid into Lando’s hole slowly, hands gripping the man’s hips whilst he fidgeted around, squirming at the feeling.

The feeling was heavenly, Oscar’s fingers creeping closer to his entrance, prodding around.

He slid a finger in, slowly starting to drag in and out of Lando’s now wet hole. A small gasp left his lips as he tried to thrust backwards onto it for more. Another entered, then a third, stretching him out relentlessly.

When he was content, Oscar bent over to grab the lube he kept in his backpack for emergency situations (which genuinely started when his thighs would chafe in hotter races). He squeezed some on his fingers and his cock, trying his best to warm it up before lining himself up behind Lando and pushing in slowly.

“Shit- shit shit shit Oscar- what the fuck-” Lando was blabbering on about god knows what as he gripped the table for dear life, his knuckles turning white instantly. 

“Have you never taken it up the arse before?” He chuckled almost cruelly, pausing once he bottomed out for Lando to adjust.

Lando whined, taking a few breaths. “Of course I have- shit- just not like this.”

A pause.

“Can you move now for fucks sa-”

He was cut off by an involuntary moan as Oscar began to thrust in and out, panting through his teeth. 

Oscar moved a hand to push Lando’s back into a harsh arch, the other trailing up to his mouth to stuff half his fist in to keep him silent.

“Shut up. Pathetic.”

He started to get faster, panting louder as he bit back groans at how tight Lando was around him. He was partially convinced this was his first time, but it was a bit late to go gentle now.

“Even a bastard when you win. Never happy, are you, Norris? Nothing is ever good enough.”

Oscar was rambling now. Spitting out whatever he could think of as he grabbed the back of Lando’s shirt, staring at the ‘4’ on it, angry tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

It’d be a ‘1’ soon, probably. If he continued how he was.

He thrust faster, harder, deeper, biting his tongue so hard he thought blood would be dripping out his mouth by now.

“F-fuck, close, Osc.”

Lando’s words pulled him back to reality, the muffled words around his fist causing him to push it further into his mouth. 

“Gonna fill you up, hopeless whore.”

Oscar let go, almost collapsing onto Lando as he stuttered to a stop, Lando finishing simultaneously and making a mess on the floor.

He pulled out after a second, watching his cum drip out slowly, running down the Brit’s legs.

“Good boy. Finally did something good for me.”

[itzpookiepooh]

Okay I have a funny request, how about the guys with an MC who dresses silly? I'm talking like, shrek tshirt and hello kitty shorts kind of thing, or just clothing with dumb phrases and lame jokes on. A completely unserious style XD

Jammies

It is important to click these links y’all 😭

You and Xavier were getting ready for bed when you both stepped into the room you were both wearing a crazy combo of pajamas. He had on hello kitty pajamas and a white T-shirt while you had Batman pajama pants on and a black shirt. You guys matched in a way.

“Freak mode…on?” You squint your eyes. The icing? Bunny socks.

“Well yours is basically an invitation to evil women.” He counters pointing to your shirt. You cross your arms looking away.

“Call it even and go to sleep?” You compromise as he firmly nods. If anyone were to walk in they’d see you laid over Xavier, both you guys pants legs ridden up and Xavier’s belly out from his bunched up shirt.

You and Caleb stand there, hands on hips, eye contact unbreakable. He was wearing the pajamas wrong. They were backwards and he thinks you’re wearing them wrong. The trunk was in the front!

“Caleb.” You called your body unmoving. “Yes?” He answers also unmoving.

“Those are backwards, my love.” You inform him. He crosses his arms chuckling, “No they’re not. You see that’s the whole reason I bought them—“

“Tag.” You interrupted. “Huh?” He questioned lifting his head up.

“The tag? It’s on the back…the elephant goes on the back.” You inform him as you twirl your finger in a circular motion.

He pulls the pants back to see the tag staring him in the face. You nod your head slowly. A moment of realization falls over him.

“I thought it would be funny.” He spoke lowly his head hanging low. “I know you did.”

You wanted to show Sylus the movie Cars because he had never seen it. He is already obsessed with it since he’s into different automobiles. You explained how Mater is your favorite character because he’s funny and sweet. Sylus thinks he’ll like Lightning McQueen because he’s a race car and he seems pretty likable. You don’t think he’ll like him.

“Sylus is this necessary?” You ask him genuinely as you step out in the pajamas he bought you both.

“I would’ve gotten you a Mater set but there weren’t any that weren’t for little boys.” He chuckles as you glare at him. It wasn’t ugly however, it was crazy how far he went for a movie he hasn’t seen yet.

“This is crazy.” You mumble pinching the bridge of your nose. “I let you choose our last set and someone had too much creative freedom.” He raises an eyebrow and shifts his weight to his hip.

“To be fair it was funny.” You shrugged. He loved the movie but hated how McQueen was acting in the beginning. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he doesn’t learn his lesson in the other movies.

“What are you wearing?” You ask Rafayel as he spins to look at you. Your boyfriend was dramatic but this was something completely unexpected.

“Me? What about you?” He points to your top and bottom combo. You give him the hand as his jaw drops.

“Is there a robe to match?” You raise your eyebrow sassily. He clears his throat shaking his head.

“I saw you playing in it when you bought it.” You expose him as he gasps.

“You were showering!” He points at you in an accusatory manner. “I got to get out eventually.” You tease sticking your tongue out.

“Ready for…bed?” Zayne asks trailing off at your outfit. He knew you had an…arrangement but this was kind of funny.

“I’m so ready that my eyes are gonna fall off.” You exaggerated as you starfish on the bed. Zayne just watches you.

“The shorts are very interesting.” He comments sitting on the edge of the bed. You beam at his compliment.

“And my shirt?” Your interest piqued since his is also piqued.

“I think it suits you a lot. I like it.” He compliments you as he kisses your forehead. He tucks you both in as you hold each other.

I tried my best!

[toastnotonfire]

Show Me Yours.

"All the bad dreams that you hide

Show me yours, I'll show you mine"

-Phoebe Bridgers

pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

wordcount: 1453

Summary: You remember the night Daryl showed you his scars for the first time, while you were patching him up from a failed supply run.

A/N: guys i am so sleep deprived and swamped with work and coursework but i really wanted to get back into writing for the new year and revive my page, so sorry if this is absolute dogshit I honestly cant tell!! As always my asks are open and any spelling errors or critiques pls let me know! Happy New Year Lovelies!!

The archer was simply not what many people had preemptively assumed. He shouldn't be defined by his exterior or the way he lashed out when threatened, like a wild and dangerous wolf caught in a snare, because it's simply just not him. You know that better than anyone else.

You remember the night he dropped his walls to you, back at the prison, which felt like a lifetime ago; it might as well be.

It was storming badly outside; the wind howled and thrashed against the prison walls loudly, drowning out the sounds of walkers ravenous growls, yet the noise couldn't drown out your incessant worrying for the archer who had set out earlier that very day.

The rain seemed to pick up in momentum every time your brain screamed the different possibilities to itself. You couldn't sleep. You wouldn't until you knew he was safe and sound.

Some god might have been listening that night, he might have taken pity on your poor mortal soul for all that you'd lost, maybe the higher power who sent him back to you knew you'd need him yet. The sound of the large prison gates being pulled open was the sweetest music to your ears.

You remember racing out towards the gates to greet him, your joy faltering slightly as you took in his sorry state, soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain and some gashes that decorated his cheek and arms, but alive nonetheless. Breathing is all you can ask for in this unforgiving new world. You know that now, more than ever.

That night you took him up to your room, the small cell in the furthest corner, which you claimed the first night you all fought your way into this block, although you didn't actually sleep in it for a good while. The fear overpowering your exhaustion. You can't really remember the cell walls anymore. The memory slipped from your brain slowly the more places you sought refuge in throughout the years.

You had walked him in slowly, closing the curtain behind you to conceal you both behind a screen. It almost gave the illusion of safety, being in a little room like that, secluded from prying eyes.

"Are you hurt badly?" you asked him quietly, grabbing a small towel and filling a bowl with some lukewarm water.

He shook his head from left to right, eyeing you warily as you lowered yourself to sit next to him with the now damp towel, gently dragging it up and down his bare arms to clear the grime away, your movements featherlight as you ghosted over a gash on his arm. A silence laid between you both, heavy but not exactly uncomfortable.

"Where else are you hurt?" you whispered, breaking the fragile silence, Daryl seemed to go ridgid at the question, staring straight ahead, chewing nervously on his bottom lip, a habit you had observed from him since way back at the quarry.

After a few long seconds in silence Daryl gently makes a move, removing the soaked leather vest, which fell to the ground with a wet plop, and slowly unbuttoning his dark grey shirt to reveal his back to you.

You held back a shocked gasp as you took in his back, long deep scars stretched across his back, colouring him in deep purples and reds. The scars have ragged and angry edges, and your body nearly ached at seeing them, mirroring his own pain in yourself. There was a new cluster of gashes where he must have skinned his back falling today. You gently shook yourself for pausing so long and sprung back into tending to his wounds. Thinking better than to acknowledge the blatant vulnerability in the moment for fear of scaring him off.

You reached out slowly to press the damp towel to his back, wishing desperately to somehow absorb the years of pain from his body, to take it into yourself and erase this past from him. However, as much as you wanted it to be possible, it wasn't. So you had to make do with easing the pain of his newest wounds, hoping to god you could convey the affection you held for him.

You cleaned his wounds with the utmost care that night, gentle movements that ensured the sting of the antiseptic was numbed, as you contemplated breaking the long, vulnerable silence.

"Daryl?" you had whispered attentively, the end of his name lilting up into a slight question. You weren't exactly sure what you were going to say yet.

"It's fine" He replied quickly, practically cutting you off, his tone gruff and almost defensive.

"it's not... it doesn't have to be fine" You whisper back, a small correction, desperately wanting, needing him to know that you cared.

The silence afterwards was long and painful, you were scared to move in case he snapped out of it, snatched his shirt back and left. in case he never spoke to you again after this, in case you pushed too far, crossed some line, some barrier he had.

What happened next was what you had least expected at the time. His shoulders, imperceptibly, started to tremble. it was such a slight movement that you could have missed it had you not been paying such close careful attention to the man before you.

You lay your hand carefully on his shoulder, offering him the slightest physical reassurance, the movement unsure and hesitant. You gave him space and time to flinch away, to turn sharply and tell you off before leaving.

But he didn't go. He didn't snap or shout or push or shove.

You kept your hand steady on the archer's back, slowly leaning forward to wrap your arms around him carefully, slow and steady in a deliberate effort not to startle him. After nearly a year in his company you had learned that Daryl startled easily, lashed out quick, and now you were beginning to understand the root cause. You cursed yourself for not seeing the signs sooner, for resenting his attitude in those first months, for arguing when he pushed you away.

It made sense now, and it broke your heart.

He let out a broken, shaky sigh as your arms wrapped around him, his breaths coming faster and irregularly as he finally let every defense crumble. In that moment nothing could have pulled you away from him, nothing at all. You were consumed by the need to comfort him, to soothe his aches and pains, to take the unbearable weight off of his shoulders.

After what felt like an eternity, and simultaneously not nearly long enough, the archer finally spoke.

“S’a hell of an ugly sight” He mumbled, his voice uncharacteristically broken, soft.

“No. no it's not… it… you could never be.” You whispered back, your voice hushed and gentle. You pulled back, gently beckoning him to turn to face you, desperate to tell him to his face.

“You're perfect, scars and all.” you whispered, grabbing his face up in both hands, urging him to believe, to understand. He just stared back stunned, his eyes searching yours long and hard. For a fleeting moment you were worried you had once again overstepped, that he would push you away and leave, running from you and the prison walls. 

All doubt left your mind when he leaned forward, the horrific world surrounding you was suddenly forgotten as his lips met yours in a soft, gentle manner. It caught you off guard before you softened against him, giving in to the magnetic pull between you both. The world turned off around you, the horrific, awful things you'd seen, and done, together became irrelevant as he pulled you in. Your hands stayed cupped around his jaw as your other went to tangle in the hair as the back of his neck. 

When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned back to give you a long, meaningful look, his eyes taking in your facial features, your short and rapid breaths mingling with one anothers in the inches between both your faces. 

The storm raged on outside the prison walls, but the threat that night had been swiftly forgotten as you curled up in the Archers arms, so naturally it was as if you had been doing it your whole life. 

That night will never leave your mind even now, when youre looking at him from across the room in your apartment in the commonwealth, watching him chasing RJ about the house as laughter fills the air, or when you're standing in the doorway, listening to him read to Judith.

It was the night he dropped his guard, the night he was brave enough to rip down the walls he had built to keep you out. The night he became yours.