#and that you can tell on skin tone alone when he got picked by the panthers

[kairos44]

From kitten to cat: Aleksandr Barkov

[nezuscribe]

it's been three weeks since arranged!gojo, your husband, the man you're growing to care deeply for, told you he'd be back.

there was some dispute he needed to oversee with the eastern tribes, something about the land that one was fighting for, but he promised, promised, it wouldn't take over a week to settle.

now it's been nearly a month, and there has not been a single word from him.

your maids told you this was normal, but you didn't miss how they spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed nervously whenever the name gojo came up.

you can't sleep in his bed, the smell of him overtaking your senses and making you go insane. you go back to your old room, huffing as you turn around each night, not able to sleep. other times you'd pace the floors, picking at your nails until they bled, wondering about what could've happened, not able to shake off your last moments with him whenever you got to thinking too hard.

"i'll be back," he had murmured in your hair, cradling you close to his chest as he said his goodbyes. his strong arms caged you in, and you had no room to fight him off as you tried to nod.

"bring back some eastern sugar," you said, "i've heard it's good for pies," your words were muffled, trying to cheer up the mood. you heard him laugh, his chest rumbling a little bit, but there was a hint of anxiety laced in it.

"i'll miss you," gojo finally whispered, his men in the background shouting for the others to hurry up.

"i know," you mumbled, craning your head to look up at him, trying to crack a smile that just came out wobbly, "but i won't tell you i missed you till you come back."

he smiled, rolling his eyes as his thumb ran up and down your cheek.

"i promise i will."

well now it's four weeks later and you can't sleep at night, your past words haunting you, wondering if you should've just told him what he wanted to hear in case...

but a couple nights later, when you're sitting at your desk, looking out the window, you hear it.

the clacking of horse hoofs, their scattered neighs.

you almost think you've gone delirious from sleep deprivation, rubbing at your eyes as you stumble closer to the windowsill, squinting your eyes as you look in the dark.

but you see the distant torch, the way it's getting closer and closer to the estate.

you have no care for modesty, pulling a thin robe over your body as you run out of your door, nearly falling down the stairs as you skip every other one, your bare feet hitting the stone with such force that you nearly break it.

the maids and servants around you are bustling to get ready for their return, but you don't care, weaving your way through their bodies as you run out through the entrance. you can feel your feet getting scraped up by the rocks, the cold autumn wind biting at your barely clad skin, but you feel like you're not moving fast enough.

his horse is the first one you see, leading the group of tired and aching men. his black stallion is dark as the night itself, and you doubt he can see you.

but gojo does, and when his eyes find the shadow of your body from across the field he's abandoning formation, his feet kicking the side of the horse to make it go faster.

it's rushed, and the closer he gets the more you can see the damage on his body. the bandages around his arms, the ones that peek out from his tunic on his shoulder. his face is littered with scrapes and bruises, but his smile is blinding.

you run to meet him, watching as he mounts off of the animal, his strong arms throwing themselves around you are nearly crushing and almost makes you stumble backward if not for his support.

there's a heavy silence that follows, and you're glad that his men take the hint to go another way, knowing the dangers of leaving you two out alone on a field.

you can't breathe, your arms so tight around his neck that you're worried you might be choking him. the way he lifts you to get you closer to him would make your body heat up if not for the fact that you know he needs you to be almost one with him.

"i thought you died," you say bluntly, your words said wetly into his neck, your scattered tears wetting his skin.

"i know," gojo murmurs, feeling like he can finally breathe for the first time in a month.

he finds your lips in a messy kiss, biting at your plush skin as you moan, feeling like if he didn't have you near to him he'd probably die. he smells your lavender oil dotted on your neck, the lingering sweetness on your lips from something you probably baked to help with your stress.

his hands lift you up further by your hips, his strength, despite his injuries, still unbridled as you wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers weaving into his snow-white locks as you hear him mumble curses beneath you.

"i missed you," you say against his lips, his feverish kisses driving you to madness. the way you say it with a choked-out sob, your tears mixing with his own.

gojo whines, biting at your neck as he tries to hide his face away, the vulnerability that you bring out of him is something that even his enemies would probably gawk over.

"i promised i'd come back," his voice is nearly gone with the way he says it in between his sloppy kisses on your neck, tugging at the fabric that hides the bareness of your chest with his teeth.

you crane your head to look at him, hitting the back of his head gently with an angered look.

"three weeks late," you reprimand him, almost reveling in the stricken and kicked look he gives you with those eyes.

he goes to say something but stops, shuffling your weight onto one of his arms (he had the right to brag about his strength), and rummages around one of the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a bag as he waves it in front of your face.

you gasp, suddenly climbing off of him as you turn it around with your fingers. he pouts at the fact that you detached from him, trying to wrap his arms around your waist to haul you back up.

"is this...?" you look up at him, new tears sprouting in your eyes as you wail, almost dramatically as your head hits his chest with a thump, pulling him into another hug as you seem to sob louder from when you first saw him.

"you cry more over the sugar than me?" he mutters petulantly, his hand still cradling the back of your head as you just limply stand there.

"don't ever leave again." you bite out, pinching his back as he yelps, but still leaving a searing kiss on the side of your face.

"i won't...my lady," he whispers teasingly, and this time, his promise is undying. he'd be a stupid man if he ever willing left this again.

fuck those state affairs. gojo would rather be home with his wife, watching her bake as she scolds him for eating her batter.

[tojigasm]

Thinking about older!Logan and how he'd definitely clock the crush you have on him as soon as you meet him.

It's amusing to him, and unfortunately for you, Logan wasn't born yesterday and he absolutely catches your long stares when you think he's not looking or the way you avert your eyes from his whenever speaking to you.

He thinks it's cute and a little stupid on your behalf – a twenty year old something kid crushing on some fifty year old man old enough to be your father.

But it's when the two of your eyes meet from across the room that he knows he's completely fucked because damn if you're not the prettiest thing he's seen in a good fifteen years or so and damn if he doesn't want to treat you the way he knows boys your age aren't

When he finally gets you alone, it escalates faster than either of you could've imagined.

"Shy little thing arent'cha?" He comments from his seat beside you, "Am I really that mean and scary?"

For a moment, you don't realize he's speaking to you until you look up to scan the room before meeting his eyes.

Logan seems to have followed your eyes, scanning each nook and crevice along with you.

"See any ghosts?"

Your eyes narrow slightly in annoyance.

"M'not shy."

Logan hums from his seat, leaning forward to pick up his cigar from the table. Settling back into his chair, he takes a long drag.

"Sure y'rnot." He replies with a smirk, smoke pooling from his lips as he exhales through his words.

You don't break eye contact with him this time, and he's got you right where he wants you.

"M'not." You repeat.

"Oh, I know you're not." Logans voice suddenly shifts to a lighter tone, laced with tease. The switch throws you off for a moment. "Don't think I haven't seen you, do you?"

And there's no need for him to elaborate. You've been caught in your school girl crush that, in reality, you know you won't get in trouble for but it's the fear of disappointing the older man that strikes a chord of anxiety through you.

You don't say anything to that, and the two of you only stare at one another before Logan's placing his cigar back down into the ashtray and motioning for you to come towards him.

You obey without question, partially in response to your training with him and partially wanting to show him how good you can be, how good you are – you have complete trust in him.

Logan seems to sense the slight of your unease, helping to lead you to straddle his lap as you sit down atop him.

His thighs spread out beneath you, helping to keep you balanced.

"That's better, huh?" He asks.

You nod, eyes drifting downwards to where your hands have begun to trace over the detailed lines of his leather suit.

There's quietness to the moment. One that seems as though it could last forever as Logan keeps a gentle hand on your thigh and the other on the arm of the chair, content on letting you distract yourself for the moment.

"Jesus," Logan comments, making you look up to meet his eyes again.

He cups a hand to your jaw, softly turning your head left and right to look you over.

"Can tell you right now," he cuts himself off with a hesitant inhale, the pads of his gloves running along your hips as he slides his hands up and down the shape of your waist to your thigh, "– When I was younger I would've been all over ya'."

Something about the image that draws your mind makes your core ache and your legs weak – imagining a younger version of the older man in the moment, the whitesh grey streaks in his hair bring you back to earth just as fast.

Logan holds your chin with two of his fingers, pad of his gloved thumb stroking your soft skin, and in the same moment, the two of you are kissing.

His lips are soft against your plush ones. His tongue is rough as he takes his time to run the wet muscle up the insides of your cheeks and around your own tongue.

You run your nails through the short of his hair, tangling your fingers in the thick of his tufts.

Logan groans into the kiss, shuffling down the seat to spread his thighs out further beneath you.

His hand comes up to cup your heat, and you gasp into the kiss before grinding your hips into his large palm.

Logan smiles into the kiss.

It only takes him a moment before the pad of his thumb is deftly pressed against your clit through the layers of your suit and you're pulling away from the kiss to moan.

Your brows furrow, and your hands drop from his hair to rest atop his shoulders, letting out soft moans and hums as his finger circles your bud.

"There we go." Logan kisses the curve of your jaw, pulling back to lean against the chair, watching as you relax into his hold.

"That feels good." You manage through a whimper, humming lightly as he shifts his movements to figure eights over your clit.

Logan gives a half chuckle, "I bet it does." His free hand holds you by your hip, keeping you still as you begin to rock into his hand.

"Right there, huh?" He asks, and you nod weakly, rolling your hips into his hand.

"M'close." You breathe.

Logan nods, "Tell Daddy where you want him."

You're quick to obey, dropping your hand from his shoulder to hold his wrist in place, letting out a choked sob when he runs his fingers over your sensitive folds through your suit.

There's not much warning besides a moan that gets caught half way up your throat as you cum.

Logan only continues to run his fingers over your cunt, stroking your folds before your pushing his hand away, swallowing soft gasps for air as you relax against him.

You can feel him kiss the top of your head, his hand stroking up and down the soft of your back while your fingers are tangled with the other.

"Y'okay?" He asks into your hair.

You nod.

[leaawrites]

Flowers

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, jealous Percy, mention of Y/n

Wordcount: 2k (this is a long one)

Summary: To get her attenion Percy would even get into fights just to be healed by her.

Masterlist

Percy has been watching her for some time since he came to Camp Half-Blood. Always finding her in a crowd of people. Always letting his eyes drift over heads he couldn’t care less about until his eyes found her face, or her back, or her hair.

Y/n, daughter of Apollo, savior of people’s life. It wasn’t that dramatic, at least for her. Y/n was never given the damaged, just the hurt. A little cut here, a bruise that had to be cooled there, a kid that had to be cared about because it had gotten sick. Never the deep cuts, the bleeding face, the broken bones. It was never that. Not after she asked to take care of those in need of it a thousand times.

Percy knew that. He saw it. At first, he thought his eyes betrayed him, that it wanted to make her look small in his eyes, so that he could save her. But it wasn’t that. His eyes didn’t betray him. It were the people that betrayed her. They didn’t care about how soft her fingers were and how gentle she would take care of the hurt. They knew she was soft, she was sweet, perfect for the small things in life in their eyes.

• • • • • • • •

All eyes turned to him, as he stepped into the infirmary. There were cuts on his face, his knuckles bruised and split open. Blood dripped down from his lips on his orange shirt. It stained the fabric, leaving a mark of the actions he made for people to believe in her.

The sun was already slowly disappearing, leading to most campers be in their cabins already.

“Oh gods, what happened to you?” Laura, a sister of Y/n, asked him, pulling him by his arm to sit him down on one of the cots.

“Nothing bad, just another fight with Clarisse,” the boy shrugged absentmindedly, his gaze searching for a certain someone.

“This girl really has to get herself together,” the red head scoffs as Percy tells her what happened.

After searching for a little longer, his eyes found her body. He smiled as she smiled. His eyes lit up seeing her this happy, a flower twirling in between her fingers. A pink lovely flower, freshly picked from the boy in front of her. A son of Demeter. Percy’s gaze went sour as he saw that she was smiling at him. The red of her cheeks made him want to paint her face in a different color.

“They’re not dating,” Laura spoke, as she saw Percy watching Y/n. It wasn’t a surprise to her that he liked her. Laura knew her sister, she was amazing.

“I don’t care.” The boy quickly covered his jealous eyes with a nonchalant lie. Still they betrayed him, as his gaze found her again.

“Sure, you don’t.” She chuckled.

A loud whistle was heard from Laura’s mouth, making the whole room look at her. Percy saw her hand call for someone across the room and before he could process what she was doing, a bundle of sunshine appeared in front of him.

“What is it?” Y/n smiled at Laura, the flower steady in her hands.

“Can you take care of Percy here? I’ve got to go, Will just called me over,” Laura explained, pointing to a direction where Will apparently was.

“Sure,” she said back and then Laura was gone. Leaving the two alone, Percy cursed and thanked her at the same time. “What have you done to get in such trouble again?” Y/n was well aware of Percy’s reputation around camp. She knew that he was always on the lookout for danger.

“I haven’t done anything, first of all,” Percy defended himself.

Y/n hummed in sarcastic agreement, before her voice got lower and a sweet tone escaped from her lungs. The feeling of her skin against his made me Percy shiver in his bones. A sweet laugh appeared in between the humming when she felt Percy’s body shake as she brushed her hand against his face.

The cuts were healed, but the dried blood still decorated his face like a stamp of shame. When he was attacked by Clarisse, after he provoked her to do it, he didn’t fight back. When Poseidon wanted to rescue him he told him off. Running from the water, not wanting to be healed by a simple touch of water on his skin. Y/n took a cloth from one of the stacks, wetting it under the water to wash his shame away.

When Y/n approached Percy again, she couldn’t get a good look at his face. His eyes were fixed on his fidgeting hands, one finger tapping against his leg. A small touch and his face shot up to her. Y/n was laying her finger and his chin, softly touching his jaw to keep him in place as she brushed the cloth over his face, like he was her most precious painting that she still had to finish.

The silence between the two laid over them like a blanket over a child that tried to hide from the monster under his bed. The air around them was warm and comforting, they were wrapped in each others presence, but they couldn’t breath normally. It was stuffy, and suppressing them from being able to breath in properly. Her breath was warm against his face.

“That’s a nice flower,” Percy noticed, cutting the tension between them.

“It’s really nice,” the girl agreed with him, smiling at the memory of receiving it. It wasn’t about the boy who gave it to her, but rather about the gesture as it. She liked that someone cared.

“Do you like him?” His questions got bolder, as well as his tone. Percy Jackson would never admit that he was wrong. He would never agree that someone actually had him wrapped around their finger.

“I don’t know. Maybe sometime in the future,” she answered, not wanting to keep talking about it.

But Percy kept going. “Well, he certainly likes you. He cares about your happiness as it seems.”

“Why do you care?” Y/n stopped moving her hand, but held it in place to hold on to the possibility of touching him.

“I don’t.” Percy shrugged it off, his eyes going over to Laura who was watching the pair in anticipation.

Laura knew about Y/n’s slight crush on the son of Poseidon. She knew about how Y/n always wished that she could take care of the troublemaker for once. But she also knew, that the girl started to lose hope of ever being noticed by the demigod. She wanted to move on, so when a boy asked her out and later brought her a flower, she couldn’t deny his offer. Not if it meant that she showed Laura in the process of rejecting him, how she still liked the same guy for too long.

“Okay.” Percy looked back at her when the cloth moved again, a bit harsher this time. She didn’t hurt him. Percy was convinced that she could never hurt anyone. Not even her worst enemy. He saw a glistening shimmer in her eyes and the more focused look in them now that she actually looked at the task at hand and not the boy in front of her.

“What are your favorite flowers?” His question surprised her. His whole presence and interest surprised her.

“Why does it matter?” She asked back, finishing up with cleaning his face.

“What are your favorite flowers?” He asked again, a shimmer of something flickered in her eyes.

“I like Carnations,” the girl answered. She smiled at his question. Nobody asked her before, just if she liked flowers or not, or what flowers she would suggest to get someone on a first date. All these questions. But never what her favorite was.

“But these are roses,” Percy pointed out, motioning to the flower that now laid beside him. When she didn’t answer his statement, unsure of what to answer at all, he continued. “Didn’t that guy ask you about it before getting you one?”

“No,” she answered truthfully. “He only asked if I liked them and I said yes. I guess, it’s just because they aren’t that easy to get around here.”

“If a guy wouldn’t move mountains to get you even only a flower, he won’t move rocks to save your life,” Percy said, making the girl laugh at his quote. She liked the look on his face, like he was actually confused and embarrassed for that guy.

“That’s very sweet,” she said. Percy’s face turned red after he noticed how corny that sounded.

“I’m a very sweet guy,” Percy answered, holding his chin up in pride.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows in amusement of his sudden confidence. “Oh, is that so?” She tried to play his game, but just one look into his green eyes made her swallow back the rest of her words.

“Yeah, you should go out with me instead.”

All of her assumptions about what he would say were thrown out the window after he said that. Her eyes widened a bit, her heart stopped before beating rapidly. Percy saw the color draining from her face and jumped from the cot, ignoring the pain in his ankle as he landed.

“What’s wrong?” He asked concerned, thinking something might took over her body. His hands found her waist to stabilize her body. He didn’t want her to fall to the ground inside the infirmary, like he did something to her.

“Are you playing with me?” She whispered, blinking her surprise away. Her head felt dizzy and patterns started to appear on the walls and everywhere else around her. In fear of blacking out, Y/n put her hands on Percy’s arms, tapping her finger against his skin to keep her mind occupied.

“What? No.” The boy was more worried than shocked at her assumption. Noticing her state, he called Laura over. The red head looked concerned at her friend.

“I will handle her, you should probably go,” she told Percy. He knew better than arguing in this moment, so he nodded and slowly bagged out of the big house.

When Y/n woke up the next day, Laura was already by her side. Waiting with breakfast next to her.

“Oh gods, finally, you’re awake.” Laura threw her arms around the girls body, knocking her back down on the pillow.

The morning was filled with the two girls talking about what happened after she blacked out. Laura was telling her how Percy used to look at her when he came into the infirmary, when a knock on the door sounded. Laura wandered over to the door, opening it. Her eyes lit up when she saw who was stood in the doorway.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said to the person in front of her.

Y/n looked confused at first, not knowing who was at the door. Until a blonde teenage boy with a lanky figure was pushed into the room. Percy stood in front of her for a moment, remembering every little thing in her cabin. Her body found his gaze again and they softened for a second when he saw her messy hair and exhausted posture.

“You brought me flowers?” Y/n asked the boy, noticing the flowers in his hand.

“I did, yeah.” He walked over to her, standing beside her bed, handing the Carnations over to her.

“Thank you.” Tears began to prickle in her eyes again. She mostly hated how easily it was to get her to tear up and cry.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did anything to you or something, I don’t know. If I did, please let me know so I can change that.” Percy stopped talking when Y/n moved up to hug the boy in front of her.

“You did nothing wrong, Percy,” she assured him with her head on his shoulder. When she lifted her head up, she pecked his cheek before pulling him down to sit onto her bed.

They sat beside each other the whole day, talking and becoming closer over time. The flowers shining beside them.

[em-prentiss]

I’ve got my eye on you

----

You’re really in no shape to be at work. Aaron coaxes you home.

Cw: fem!bau!reader, reader is on her period, newly established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no use of yn

Wc: 1.9k

if you have any Aaron requests, lmk <3

----

Your stomach cramps again as you walk out of the elevator. Wincing, you hurry into the bullpen, desperate to sit down and ease the ache in your lower body. 

Morgan looks up at you as you dump your things on your desk and sit down with a sigh. 

“Twenty minutes late, princess,” he grins. “Late night?”

“Not today, Derek.” You stuff your face in your hands, the pounding in your head intensifying. Your voice is low, strained, nothing like the usual teasing tone you take up with him. 

Morgan immediately frowns in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” He leans over the divider between your desks and takes a closer look at you.

“Fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled. You lift your head and give him a weary smile. “Just tired from last night’s case.”

He nods and leaves you alone as you turn on your computer and sigh at the stack of paperwork ahead of you. Looking up out of habit, you smile at the sight of Aaron in his office, his head bent as he works on something. 

The two of you had your first date just before this previous case. He got you flowers, specifically ones that wouldn’t trigger your allergies, and when he told you that with a flustered smile you felt yourself fall impossibly deeper. You had kissed him to stop his rambling, threaded your fingers through his as he walked you to his car and opened the door for you. Like a gentleman, you’d thought giddily, your heart bursting at the image of him in your head perfectly meeting reality.

He got you ice cream after dinner, intimately aware of your sweet tooth, and you were left wondering if it was too soon to think about marriage.

It had been a perfect night, one that left you wanting for more of him just like this; funny and relaxed and soft. You’d wanted so badly to push him into your apartment, have him take off your dress and press his lips to your skin. But you forced yourself to say goodbye at the door, his chaste kiss sweet against your lips. You wanted to take it slow, to do it right. He wasn’t going to be a quick fuck for you and you wanted him to know that. 

Because you’re in love with him, have been for years. And you’re pretty damn sure he’s in love with you too.

You’re broken from your reverie when you hear Emily approaching, a steaming mug in her hands. You give her a questioning look when she sets down the mug on your desk, the light color of the liquid telling you it’s some kind of herbal tea instead of coffee.

“You’ve got that first day period look about you,” she whispers before you can ask. You smile and pick up the tea, taking a sip and feeling the scalding liquid burn all the way down.

“That bad, huh?” You close your eyes when Emily brushes your hair away from your forehead. Her short nails scratch soothingly against your scalp and you hum, resting your head lightly against her stomach. 

“You’re a little pale,” she murmurs. “Did you eat?”

You say nothing and bring the tea to your lips again, avoiding your friend’s gaze. 

“Typical,” Emily sighs—quite boldly of her, knowing she’s no different. “Hotch won’t be happy about that,” she teases softly, her lips turning up in a gentle smile. She may or may not have given you and Aaron the final push you both needed.

You shrug as your cheeks tint pink. “I’ll eat in a bit,” you say, in no hurry to do so with the way your stomach churns. “The pain really blocks my appetite.” You scrunch your nose. 

Emily hums, all too familiar with the feeling. “I’d tell you to take some meds, but you need to eat for that.” She strokes your hair soothingly, making you lean into her touch.

“I will, Em,” you smile up at her. “When my stomach settles. This is helping by the way, thanks.” You tilt your head to the mug you’re now holding against your stomach, the heat of it seeping through your shirt.

“You’re welcome,” Emily squeezes your shoulder and heads to her own desk. 

Sighing, you tip your head back and adjust your grip on the mug in your hands, wishing you had something for your thighs too. And your head. And your lower back. 

You give yourself a few seconds before you rub your eyes and sit up straight, trying to start on your report. 

The words blur on the page in front of you and you blink, trying to bring them back into focus. You sip your tea, hoping it’ll kick start your brain into writing something, but your head pounds incessantly, jumbling up the words in your head.

The next sip of tea brings a sudden nausea with it, the liquid sloshing around in your empty stomach with nothing else. You set it down with a grimace. 

Fucking great.

Morgan and Reid are bickering incessantly behind you, Emily clacks away at her computer and Anderson is talking louder than usual, his voice piercing your head. You blow out a breath and grab your pen, forcing yourself to ignore them and look at your paperwork. You squint at the paper, the bright fluorescent lights of the bullpen like needles in your eyes.

You give up and slump on your desk with a groan, welcoming the darkness and the cool wood against your forehead. You cross your arms tightly over your aching stomach, feeling the frustrating press of tears against your closed eyelids.

Aaron leaves his office in search of coffee and catches sight of you with your head on your desk, your hair shielding your face. Your back shudders as you inhale, the ragged rise and fall of it visible even from a distance.

He hurries down to you and gently touches your shoulder, your name falling softly from his mouth. You tilt your head up to look at him, too tired to lift it from the desk. “Aaron, hey.” You give him a worn out smile. 

Your hair falls into your face. Aaron gently brushes it away and notes your crossed arms held tightly against your stomach, your nails digging into your biceps.

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, eyeing your tired face and the bags under your eyes. “You look pale. Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against your forehead, but your skin is cool.

If the cramps weren’t currently tearing your body to shreds, you might have felt the butterflies at his obvious concern. “I’m not,” you say slowly, wetting your dry lips. “I’ll be fine, my head just hurts a bit.”

A bit is a gross oversimplification, and from the look on Aaron’s face, he knows it too. “Just your head?” He raises his brows, his eyes pointedly drifting down to your stomach.

A strange heat rises to your cheeks. “I’ll be fine, Aaron.” You insist as you lift yourself up against the chair. The light shines directly into your eyes and you wince, pressing your palm against your lids.

“Clearly,” he mutters, looking at your desk and the still empty paperwork and reports you have yet to fill out. “Go home. You can finish this tomorrow.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly despite the roiling in your stomach. “I’m fine, I just—” You shut your eyes and blow out a shaky breath when you feel a sudden cramp in your abdomen, “I just need a minute.” You rasp.

Aaron eyes your dull skin and the way you tightly grip your seat, your knuckles sharp as you take in ragged breaths. He sighs and crouches down in front of you, the gentle way he says your name forcing your eyes open. 

“Please. Go home or I’ll drive you myself.” His brown eyes are soft with concern, his brows furrowed and lips tipped downward.

You want to shake your head, but a sharp pain in your stomach almost makes you gasp. You bite your lip and look down at your watch. “It’s only 11.” You protest weakly. 

Aaron shakes his head at your stubbornness, your pain clear in the way your face twists. “You’re in pain, sweetheart,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying it. Your eyes widen slightly at the nickname, but he continues, undeterred.

“Please. Go home, take care of yourself. You can be here first thing tomorrow, I promise, but you’re not well now.” He’s using the same soft, soothing tone he uses whenever Jack is sick and refusing his medication, and it seems to have the same effect on you.

You wilt against the seat and nod. “Okay,” you finally relent, the relief obvious in your voice. 

Aaron smiles slightly, dimples poking out in victory as he stands up. You don’t even have to pack anything, your purse still closed on your desk. You pocket your phone and stand, your hand reaching for Aaron’s elbow when you stumble slightly. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” he steadies you with a hand on your back. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

You don’t protest and allow him to walk you to the elevator. A part of you is surprised that he’s showing this side of him at work, uncaring of the team’s piercing gazes that you can feel following you all the way out of the bullpen. 

You lean into his side a little when you’re out of sight, the warmth of his hand on your back seeping into your skin as you wait for the elevator. 

You’re almost disappointed when it dings.

The doors open and you walk in with a quiet sigh. Aaron walks in with you too, ignoring your surprised look. You open your mouth to protest, but he speaks first.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay driving? I can take you,” he offers.

You smile. The thought does sound nice. But you shake your head, despite your aching body and the long drive ahead of you. And the crushing need to let him take care of you. “I’ll be fine.” You force yourself to say. “Thank you, though.”

Aaron nods. “Drive safe.” He smiles at you gently. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will.” Your fingers magically find their way into his hair. You push the soft strands away from his forehead, biting back a smile when he involuntarily leans into your touch.

His hand finds the curve of your waist. “Maybe I can come by later?” He whispers. 

You feel your body grow warm, a comforting glow that he always brings out in you. You smile, momentarily distracted from the pain in your body.

“I’d like that. But I won’t be much fun,” you gesture to yourself with a shrug. The elevator stops and the doors slide open into the parking lot. 

“That’s just nonsense,” Aaron tilts your face down to kiss your forehead, his palms warm on your cheeks. “Be careful, honey.” 

“I will.” You stamp a quick kiss on his lips, your cheeks warm, and head to your car. Aaron holds the elevator doors open and waits until you get in before heading again to the sixth floor.

He walks back into the bullpen, past his team gathered at Emily’s desk, including Garcia. They smirk at him and he glares back.

“Not a word.” 

[hoshifighting]

ik u have lots of request but can i request grower!dino wherein reader teases him for having no bulge when they went to the pool and he had enough of the teasing so he drags reader to the restroom and rest is history

grower!dino

WARNINGS: semi-public sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, mentions of shower x grower, dirty talk.

you lean back against the pool chair, a smirk playing on your lips as u watch him emerge from the water. chan runs a hand through his wet hair, the sunlight catching on the droplets that cling to his skin. you bite your lip, but not for the usual reasons. “so, like… is that it?” you tease, eyes flicking down to the fabric of his swim trunks. they’re clinging to him, but not in the way you were expecting. nothing there, not even a hint of a bulge. your grin widens when he glares at you, dark eyes narrowing

he’s been taking it for hours now—your playful digs, the side comments, the whispers when no one else is around. but this time, the way his jaw clenches tells you something's different. “you think this is funny?” he mutters under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone but you to hear. the air shifts, his tone isn’t as casual as before.

“yeah, kinda,” you snicker, not knowing you’re walking into something dangerous. “i mean, what’s the point of those trunks if there’s nothing to show off?”

his hand grips your wrist before you can even react. it’s firm but not painful. at least, not yet. “get up,” he commands, voice low and almost a growl. you raise a brow but don’t resist, letting him pull you off the chair and toward the changing rooms.

“what, you gonna prove me wrong?” you laugh, half-joking. but the look he shoots you makes your stomach flip. that’s when you know you’ve pushed him too far. the door slams behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before you’re shoved against the cool tile wall, his body pressing into yours.

“you wanna see what the fuck i’ve got?” he hisses, breath hot against your ear, one hand already slipping beneath your waistband, yanking it down with no warning. his fingers curl around your throat, just enough pressure to make your heart race. “trust me, you’re gonna feel every inch.”

you swallow hard, lips parting, but nothing comes out. not a smart comment, not another tease. your mind goes blank as he pulls himself free, thick and heavy now, far from what you were teasing him about earlier, it grew almost like a monstrosity, the length good enough to make you doubt if its going to fit.

the sight alone has you clenching your thighs together, but he’s not letting that slide. “nah, keep ‘em open,” he grunts, forcing your legs apart with his knee. “you’re not getting out of this.”

and god, you don’t want to. his hand slips between your legs, fingers finding you already wet, and he smirks against your neck. “knew you were all talk. let’s see how much you can take before you start beggin’.”

you’re not prepared when he pushes in—rough, no warning, filling you in a way that leaves you breathless. your hands fly up, gripping at his shoulders, his neck, anything to keep yourself steady as he slams into you again and again, each thrust harder than the last. you bite down on your lip to stifle the moan rising in your throat, but he’s not having that either.

“don’t you fuckin’ hold back now,” chan grits, pulling your hair back enough to expose your throat, leaving your voice no choice but to slip out, louder this time. “you wanted this, right? all that teasing, just to get me like this?”

you try to form words, to say something smart, but the way he’s hitting that perfect spot, over and over, leaves you stuttering. “fuck… chan…”

“thought so,” he sneers, fingers digging into your hips as he picks up the pace, each thrust making your pussy drool around his cock. you’re a mess, barely able to think, let alone talk back now. the tiles are cool against your skin, but your body’s burning up, you feel light-headed by how fucking deep he is.

“still got somethin’ to say about my dick now?” he asks, voice dark with satisfaction, each word punctuated by another rough thrust. you shake your head, moaning his name again, feeling your body start to give in, trembling under his grip. he’s relentless, not letting up, chasing that last bit of control you’ve been clinging to.

“good,” he grunts, one hand snaking between your bodies, fingers finding your throbbing clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. your breath hitches, back arching, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, his name spilling from your lips in a breathless moan. your legs tremble, barely holding you up, but he’s not done yet.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, thrusting into you a few more times, his pace rough, almost punishing. it’s too much and yet somehow not enough. when he finally lets go, it’s with a sly, moan sound, his grip on your waist tightening as he spills into you, hips jerking with the force of it.

for a moment, all you can hear is the sound of your own ragged breathing, the world spinning slightly as you try to catch your breath. chan presses his forehead against your shoulder, both of you panting, bodies slick with sweat and chlorine.

“still wanna tease me about it?” hhe asks after a beat, voice low, but there’s a smirk in his tone now.

you laugh weakly, barely able to find your voice. “fuck no…”

[norrizzandpia]

if we're adding more to the Oscar verse can we please get a peek into the time when they weren't together but everyone could feel it coming 🥺🫣🥹 ALSO BESTIE OUR BOYS POSTING ICE BATH PHOTOS HAD ME KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING

BRO I KNOW EXACTLY WHICH ICE BATH PICS YOURE TALKING ABT AND WHEN I TELL YOU THOSE CAME OUT AND I DIED, I. DIED.

I love McLaren so much for that post

ANYWAYSSSSS this is from my older Oscar social media au titled best friends to benefits to lovers.

It’s basically a prequel because it takes place before they got together and were just bsfs with benefits

Just Benefits Right Now (OP81)

Summary: It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.

Warnings: fluff, pining, YEARNING, sexual conversations and innuendos, Oscar and yn being dumbasses, language

Note: this is very much casual by Chappell roan and risk by Gracie Abram’s coded

“Can I be honest?” Oscar asks from the other side of the table at breakfast. Y/n sits staring at him, a certain feeling in her stomach that gnaws uncomfortably at her insides.

She nods, “Always.”

He takes a deep breath and it almost feels as though her body is anticipating something she’s always been waiting to hear. What she’s meant to be anticipating, she has no idea.

“How would this be a good idea?” His eyes avert from hers and her stomach finally settles. Oh. Her discomfort was linked to the massive, life-changing scenario she presented Oscar the night before. Friends with benefits. What could go wrong? They loved each other and hadn’t slept with anyone in months, it was getting to the both of them. They wanted the best for each other and each could lend a helping hand to the other’s problem. No strings attached. That’s what she had said.

She shrugs, “We’re both antsy from not getting laid. This could take the edge off. It might even help your racing.”

He laughs and Y/n smiles, “Can I think about it?”

“You asked that last night and I agreed. That hasn’t changed.” She reaches over the table and lays her hand over his. Her soft thumb rubs over his skin and his whole body warms.

The warmth makes him give in, “You know what? I’m down. We’ve been friends for years, nothing could change that.”

She nods and smiles, but there’s an unsettling hesitation to her agreement. Pushing it aside, Y/n giggles as she asks him when they should fully go through with the new plan. There’s a slight blush to their faces as they discuss and they deduce it’s from the unusual topic.

The stirring stomachs and slight relief filling their bodies is not something their minds decide to address.

—

Lando hears the giggling from down the hall. His light chuckling as he stands completely alone makes him look insane as engineers pass by him, but the man has never been one to shy from social anxiety.

His knuckles rap against the door softly, trying not to disturb the friends in their fun. The volume decreases after a few seconds as Oscar’s heavy footsteps meet the threshold. It opens and Lando shoves his way through, Y/n rolling her eyes at him.

“Come on in, Lan.” Her tone is dry and sarcastic, but Lando sees the sparkle in her eye. Sure, the sparkle was usually bigger when directed at Oscar, but he knew that was a sign of her adoration nonetheless.

He plops down next to her, his arm around her shoulders, as Oscar closes the door. Amidst their greetings, Lando misses the way Oscar’s face contorts into something akin to jealousy at how cuddly his friend and his best friend seem to be. He shakes it off. Y/n is single despite their plans to find each other in white sheets. If she wants to flirt with Lando, so be it.

It still irks him though.

“We have an interview to get to, Osc. PR is making me come to summon you. They seem to think I’ll be able to lure you away from Y/n quick enough.” Lando explains, his eyes drifting between the two. Something about the way Oscar’s hands twitch at his sides and Y/n’s fingers pick at the skin around her nails tips him off to the tension. Tension between Oscar and Y/n is not surprising considering their confusing relationship, but this is more sexual. It’s not even as if that’s surprising, Lando’s just never seen it play out in front of him before. Drunk Oscar is quite open about how attractive he thinks Y/n is, there’s no doubt he’s had suggestive thoughts about her. Same goes for Y/n. Drunk words are sober thoughts, no?

He’s almost contemplating the possibility of them having found each other on an alcohol-loving night, leading to clothes on the floor, but the strained nature of the two makes him second guess it. If they would have had sex together, Oscar would’ve never let her go. Lando knows that.

What’s this then? What’s with the new wandering eyes and brighter smiles? Or the recently discovered confidence to make their feelings so obvious?

Lando practically wipes the drool off of Oscar’s chin as he stands from the couch in the corner of the room, untangling himself from Y/n, and grabbing Oscar’s arm to lead him out of the room.

“Have fun! Be quick!” Y/n shouts as they leave. Oscar nods and smiles at her before the door closes fully, yelling back about how fast he would be.

The exchange is too flirty compared to the usual Oscar and Y/n. The cheeky grins and reassurance on how short of a time they would have to be apart makes Lando question Oscar immediately.

“Did you two fuck or something?” His hands are up in the air, completely lost at the two. Lando has always wanted the friends to wake the fuck up and confess how much they’ve always loved each other, but this doesn’t feel like that. This feels lustful and not at all like how he would expect the two to act after having found out about love shared.

The dreaded words leave Oscar and Lando almost claws his eyes out, “No, we didn’t. But, we’re talking about, like a friends with benefits type thing.”

Lando halts, “No, Oscar. You guys can’t be friends with benefits.”

Oscar’s eyebrows scrunch together and he puts his hands on his hips, “Why not? Who are you to tell us what we can and can’t do?”

Lando groans, “Because! I’ve been where you are, in love with someone and taking anything I could get to be closer with them. It never ends well. Especially friends with benefits.”

“Who said anything about being in love?!” Oscar’s eyes practically bulge out his head, his arms flinging out by his sides.

Lando goes quiet and his head cocks to the side. No words are spoken, none can be said. Lando refuses to tell Oscar how he feels, but he also refuses to lie. It’s a look of plea, please be serious right now, but that’s as far as they get. Oscar turns around, clearly frustrated, and walks down the stairs to where they’re needed. Lando lets him go, putting space between them, and stares at the picture of them hanging on the wall beside him. Taken in Suzuka with their trophies, their smiles are so big. Lando wants Oscar to be that happy and stress-free again, but, then again, when was Oscar ever?

Y/n and Oscar have known each other for years, this cycle having always existed. No matter how many times Lando could try to say it, try to make Oscar wake up, he wouldn’t get it. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t come to terms with it.

Because of that, this friends with benefits plan was destined to fail miserably.

—

The door slams shut behind them and quiet fills the room. Y/n and Oscar stand side by side in his apartment, a translucent look to their skin.

They shuffle to his room, careful not to wake his roommates. The next slamming is Oscar’s personal door, solidifying the start of their attempt at sleeping together. His hand gently finds hers, but neither dare to look at the other. They stare at his bed and link fingers.

“What do we do now?” She whispers. It’s a stupid question, she knows that and so does he, but he doesn’t say it. He simply squeezes her palm and finally turns so his body stands in front of hers.

His long fingers play with the sleeve of her shirt, “Can I take this off?”

HIs deep brown eyes bear into hers, helping her get more comfortable with the situation, and she nods.

“I’m gonna need words, Y/n.” His lips kiss her ear, his voice soft.

Her breath is hot against the skin of his neck, “Yes, Oscar.”

And with that, the first item of clothing falls to the floor. Neither of them is prepared for whatever transpires between them. From the way Oscar holds her to the gentleness of their eyes, things stray away from what they had prepared.

No strings attached. Casual. Friends with benefits. This is what this was. That’s all. But, they were beginning to find out it was hard being casual when the other was someone they had cherished for so long, someone who had taken residence in the other’s heart. Oscar admired her and her strength. She admired his sympathy. Now they admired the way the other touched, the way the other sounded. At their most vulnerable, the friends found a gray area. A gray area that had always been there, but was only now so obvious with how naked they were.

Nonetheless, they were still friends, and still claimed the title as friends with benefits. Casual, no strings attached was some sort of chant in their minds when they both agreed it was best if Y/n didn’t sleep over, that she leave the minute they were done. And when he closed the door on her, hearing her walk down the hallway and out of the building, Oscar closed his eyes and breathed.

The weight on his heart made it hard to continue the mantra.

—

This was the weirdest Lando had seen Oscar and Y/n. Their touches were fleeting as if once their skin met, they realized what they were doing and pulled away. Usually, they drank in the softness of the other like it was something that would be gone tomorrow. Now, it’s like they’re nervous to cross some sort of line.

It clicks in Lando’s mind.

The line’s already been crossed, forcing them into unknown territory. His warnings and pleas for logical thinking went ignored by Oscar. Friends with benefits it was.

He looms over the two, “Oscar, I need to talk to you.”

Y/n and Oscar exchange a look, something harsh in Lando’s tone, but he goes with the man anyway.

Lando drags him by the arm to a small room out of the way, closing the door and turning around to stare at Oscar.

“What?” He asks, but he already knows. He’s sweating under Lando’s glare.

Lando folds his arms across his chest, “You’re not dumb, Oscar. You know this isn’t going to go well.”

Oscar scoffs, “You don’t know that! It could go anyway! We’ll stay friends. It’ll be fine. Once one of us finds someone else, we’ll stop.”

“And what happens then? When you have to see her with another guy, knowing what it’s like to have her that way? Or vice versa?” Lando counters. He takes a step toward Oscar.

Oscar takes a step back, “It wouldn’t be that way.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’d stop having sex with her and then you’d just completely go back to being platonic with her? You’d know what it’d be like to have her that way and all of a sudden, you think you’d be able to turn it off? On top of everything that started before this?”

This time, Oscar doesn’t argue or act stupid when Lando mentions the supposed feelings he believes Oscar to have. At this point, Oscar can’t bring himself to admit to anything. He can’t say he doesn’t love her nor can he say he does. He can’t say they’re just casual nor can he say that they are. It’s been a few weeks of having her naked under him and it’s all he can think about. He loves knowing that side of her, having her trust him enough to give him that side. Though, he doesn’t know how serious it all is to her because of her lack of interest in staying after. He wants her to, doesn’t want her to feel as though he’s using her, but she’s so adamant.

It’s fine, he tells himself. They’re just friends, she can leave whenever she wants.

Still, Lando’s words cut into his skin, sharp and painful. He’s right, Oscar won’t ever be able to unsee her unraveling with him, but he wants to believe he can. He wants to believe that he still wants them to be just friends as they get into all of this, that he’s fine with continuing to be friends with benefits.

The idea of her being with another man, not just in bed, makes his skin crawl. To experience and be forced to be cordial with a man that has what’s hi- what he knows now isn’t something he thinks he could do.

In all his stubbornness, Oscar can’t let Lando be right. “Yes. It wouldn’t be that hard.”

It’s already hard to say goodbye to her now. Saying goodbye to her completely in that sense sounds impossible.

Lando looks at him as if he knows it too. He sighs, “Alright, fine. I believe you. But, if you ever need someone to talk to, if you’re ever confused…”

The two share a glance and Oscar nods, “I know. You’re there.”

When he emerges from the room, Y/n is staring intensely at the door. He sits down next to her and she leans forward. Her perfume replaces the rationality in his head.

“What was that all about?” She whispers, looking up at him with her kind eyes.

He smiles, dimples deep and permanent around her, “Just racing stuff. Strategies we need to keep quiet and all that.”

She nods and it seems as though the perfume hasn’t completely left him mentally helpless.

—

“Fuck, Y/n.” Oscar pants as he rolls off her. Their fingers lace together under the blankets and Y/n’s face turns to the side to smile at him.

She doesn’t move from her spot, giving Oscar hope she won’t leave, but when her body slugs over the side of the bed and begins getting dressed, his actions forget to check in with his head.

His hand grasps hers tightly, holding her from getting too far away. She looks down, her eyes to their hands before moving to his eyes. They’re dilated and big, puppy-like.

She runs her other hand through his hair and he sighs, “Please, stay.”

The two words are soft and hang in the air around her. They’re daunting, suggesting a break in the meticulous rules they set to protect themselves. She’s so close to saying no, to completely running from the situation and Oscar himself, but he holds her so tight, like he knows she’s slipping away, it’s hard to reject him.

Her gaze moves to the door and Oscar holds her tighter, “Y/n, it doesn’t mean anything, remember? I just don’t want to be alone after the race.”

Ah, the race. For fucks sake. Of course, he only wants her to stay because of the bad race he had. How could she be so stupid? It doesn’t mean anything. This isn’t supposed to mean anything. It doesn’t to him. He only seeks comfort in his best friend, the one person he’s always looked to when things didn’t go right. Y/n falls back into his bed, defeated. Some part of her, even though it had been scary, wanted him to want something more. She wanted him to break the rules with her. Yet, she lives in a world where the only way she can get close to Oscar in the way she craves is through this. This horrifying, painful excuse of a relationship, a friendship. Whatever you wanted to call it. When all is said and done, he’ll go back to dating women he loves and she’ll live with the memories of him above her, pleading with her to stay for reasons she hates.

To know she had been the one to suggest this, to get herself into this complicated situation, hurts the most. There is a world where she doesn’t know this. A world where Oscar doesn’t hold her in the way he is or touch her in the way he does. That world seems less cruel.

Though, she finds herself here. Oscar’s chin on top of her head as his breathing evens out, sleep finding him. His arms are wrapped around her body and his chest meets hers every time it expands with air.

What she wants is to not be here, not experience him in this way, but it’s too good to give up. To stop all of this too soon would be denying her heart something she’s wanted ever since she met him years ago. She couldn’t ever bring herself to do that.

So, she keeps her eyes open, fighting off the sleep she wants so bad, so when he ends this, she’ll remember what it was like to sleep next to him.

—

Small snippets of music from TikTok play from the phones of Oscar and Y/n as they lay against each other in his room. A video of a couple laughing together as they kiss and cook in a kitchen loops itself on her screen. She stares at them, wondering if that’s what people see when they see her and Oscar. Knowing what her friends and family have said in regard to the way Oscar and her act toward one another, she pictures him looking at her with this much love.

Surely, she always tells them, if he looked at her with such care, she would notice. What she can’t tell them is that the way he looks at her is pure lust, something that’s self-explanatory as they find each other every night to feed certain urges.

“You’ve been watching that for a while.” Oscar says, his hand trailing from her arm to her hair and pushing it out of the way. She sits up, his touch being so hard to stomach with the thoughts rushing in her mind.

The noise from his phone stops as he turns it off and throws it to the side, suddenly concerned for how stoic Y/n is. He sits up next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Again, his touch is too much to take, so she moves from the bed and stands at its foot.

Now, Oscar’s really worried.

“What’s wrong?” He clambers over to her, sitting in front of her and staring up at her nervous face.

It all comes out like word-vomit, “What if I’m never loved?”

She doesn’t even know where that notion comes from, but it’s a genuine worry. It always has been for her, just one that’s gone unsaid.

Oscar reels back, “Don’t say that.”

She huffs, “Why?”

He’s very clearly speechless, his mouth hanging open as he scoffs. “Because.”

“Why because?” She tries again. For some reason, knowing Oscar still doesn’t want her in the way she does him even when he has her sexually makes her panic that no man could want her if one has her body and still doesn’t choose to love her. It’s drowning and stressful, but, at this moment, all Y/n sees is her best friend, not the man she sleeps with, and she seeks his reassurance.

Oscar takes a breath, “Because, of course, you’ll be loved, Y/n. It’s easy to love you. You’ll find the one and it won’t be hard for them to love you.”

What if I don’t want the one, she thinks.

“How do you know that?” She counters, tears pricking her eyes.

Oscar visibly softens, his words coming out faster than he likes, “Because I love you.”

The three words are something she’s heard from him multiple times, but now, with the frequent benefits, she finds herself searching for more meaning. Three words she has wanted so badly to shift away from platonic and to romantic begin to with the way he looks at her. It’s as if the world falls away and what is left is only her. She watches the brown eyes dilate completely, only black color being left to be seen. She watches him stare at her with the utmost respect and sincerity.

This can’t be friends, can it?

“You love me in a friend way, Oscar.” She clarifies, hoping for him to give her something that suggests what’s unfolding in front of her eyes.

He hardens immediately, “Yeah, but I still love you. If I love you as platonically as I do, it won’t be hard for someone to love you romantically.”

She stares at him. He mistakes pain for confusion.

“Think about it like this,” He begins, “You love me platonically. But, it’s easy for you to see someone loving me romantically because of how much you love me just as I am. Platonic love can easily find itself to be romantic love.”

She misses his last sentence and the underlying meaning of it because she’s too hung up on the one component he misses in his analogy.

That she loves him. Not platonically, but romantically.

—

The next week, Y/n can’t bring herself to see Oscar. Multiple excuses of being busy or having some sort of appointment to go to, she dodges his every try to see her. Her realization that she’s fully in love with him hit her hard and it must’ve been clear to Oscar with the way he pestered her after she fled his apartment that day. In a heap of tears and anxiety, Y/n mumbled some random excuse about needing to leave and practically ran from Oscar when he tried to question her. He was confused, but tried to leave it at the fact that she probably got upset over her emotional confession and just wanted to be alone. He tried, but he still found himself wandering to the possibility she got upset over the fact that he was focusing so heavily on his (made up) platonic love for her.

Remembering the one person that had warned him about the mess he would find himself in, Oscar calls Lando.

After two rings, the British accent fills the speaker.

“Is everything okay?” Lando asks, as if he already knows.

Oscar is quiet for a moment before calmly speaking, “I haven’t seen Y/n in a week.”

There’s a small sigh on the other end of the phone, “Why do I need to know that, Oscar?”

“Because you told me you’d always be there for me if I ever got confused.”

“So, you’re confused?”

“Yes.”

“About her?”

“I love her, Lando.”

What once seemed to be the whispered gossip of the paddock is now a firm fact as Oscar finally admits to something everyone had always suspected.

Lando tries to hide the smile in his voice, but Oscar hears it anyway. “And what do you want to do with that information?”

Oscar rubs a hand over his face, “I don’t know.”

Lando grunts, “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. The last time we spoke she ran out of my apartment after I had spoken about how much I loved her platonically. That could either mean she got upset that I seemed to only love her platonically or she noticed the way I was adamant in that I loved her just as a friend that she realized I did love her romantically and panicked. She either loves me or she doesn’t and I can’t tell.” Oscar rambles. His palms are sweating and it almost feels as though his entire life is falling apart in front of him. Admitting what he just did either means losing the one person he values most in his life or finally getting to experience love the way it should be.

Lando smiles, thinking how cute this all is as he witnesses a massive love story for himself, “I think you should just tell her, Osc.”

Oscar laughs, “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? That’s the advice you promised you’d always be there to give me when I was fucking completely lost in my life?”

Lando nods, “Yep. Now follow it. Thanks.” He ends the call before Oscar can grill him on why he’s so confident in Y/n loving him back that Oscar’s only action to do is tell her how he feels.

The man is left to stare at his phone, his Lock Screen to be more specific. A picture of Y/n and him after his sprint win. The sparkles in her eyes, the ones he always loved from afar, are the most prominent here compared to every other time he’s gotten them photographed. It’s the reason he set it as his background.

His inner monologue, reminding him of why this photo sat proudly on his phone, is what pushes him to pick up his coat, rush from his home, and delete his train ticket.

The ticket that was meant to get him to the city where the hotel he would be staying at for the SIlverstone Grand Prix was. The ticket that ensured he raced, did his job, gone from his phone.

In the back of his mind were the texts Y/n sent him, telling him they shouldn’t meet because he needed to prepare for the race. Knowing she used that as a way to distance herself from him, whether that was because she loved him or didn’t, he needed to know why. If she didn’t love him, at least he tried but, if she did, what a world he would get to be acquainted with.

After all, he’s always had to fight for the things he loves.

—

The pounding on her door makes Y/n grab a knife. It’s so late at night, the only person who would reasonably be at her door is Oscar but, after all her deflections, she knows it’s not him.

Or so she thought.

Oscar stands with his head held high, but it plummets when he sees her grasp on the weapon.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n! What the fuck?!” He yelps, jumping away from the door with his hands up.

She scoffs, “What do you mean?! What’re you doing here? Your train leaves in like five hours! You should be asleep or packing!”

She’s panicked. He can’t be here. The majority of her is so susceptible to just giving in and telling him how much she loves everything about him. Being around him means jeopardizing what little she has.

Oscar shakes his head, “I deleted my ticket. I’m not going.”

The knife clatters to her feet and Oscar screams out. She shushes him before ushering him inside whilst looking outside, making sure he didn’t disturb any of her neighbors. When they’re comfortable inside with the door closed, she whips around and jabs a finger in his chest, “Why did you delete your ticket?!”

He grabs her wrists, stopping her hitting, “Because I needed to see you. You’ve been blowing me off all week.”

She rolls her eyes, “Because I didn’t want to blow you off all week.”

He gapes at her, loosening his grip on her. She moves away from him, picking up the knife and putting it back in the drawer.

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Everything was fine until that day in my room when you started talking about not being loved.” He says, a hand over his face in despair.

She shakes her head, “It’s always been not fine, Oscar. You just never noticed.”

He meets her eyes and he snaps, “What do you mean?!”

She turns around, another sign of her rejection of him, “I’m not prepared to have this conversation with you.”

“Not prepared or just scared?” He counters, hands on his hips as he stares at her back.

She doesn’t respond, giving him the moment to explain why he’s even here in the first place.

“Well, I’ll let you know that I’ve always been scared. Scared of the way you make me feel, of what it means to be around you and love you as much as I do.” He breathes for a few seconds, letting the previous tension dissipate as she turns around to look him in the eye, “I love you, Y/n. Sleeping with you, being friends with benefits, was always just going to be a way for me to get a taste of you that way until you decided to end things. And, now, it feels like you’re trying to end things and all it’s done is make me realize just how gone I am for you. I kept telling myself that once you decided to be done with our casualness, I would be able to turn it off, but that time has seemingly come and I can’t do it. I love you too much.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Y/n smiles softly, “You love me too much?”

He nods, taking a step toward her, “Not platonically. Very much romantically. I think I always have.”

She meets him in the middle and his arms find her waist, hers around his neck, “Oscar Jack Piastri.”

He smiles down at her, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.”

Her fingers tangle at the bottom of his hair, forcing his head down to meet her lips. They move together softly, the first kiss that’s openly filled with love. When they pull back, Y/n whispers against his lips, “I love you so much.”

His eyes closed, relishing in the moment, he whispers back, “It’s never been hard loving you.”

“I wasn’t blowing you off this week because I didn’t want to blow you off.” She giggles, he does with her, “I just thought I would never have you the way I truly wanted and I couldn’t deal with it.”

He moves his head away from her slightly, catching her eyes quickly. They dilate as they look at her and Y/n is finally able to know it’s with love.

Oscar cradles her face, “You’ve always had me the way you wanted. You just never saw it. But, now you do, and you’ll never not have me the way you want. I’ll always be yours.”

And she would always be his.

[kinichwife]

hi everyone smut headcanon time bc i said sooooo

verse! idia shroud x sub! fem! chubby! reader

cont: cosplay?? dress up???, toy usage, blindfolds (reader + idia), sadomasochism, degradation (idia recieving), breeding, idia is obsessive

warnings/notes: everything is consensual!!!! if anything this is just mutual obsession. there's like a SPRINKLE of sub idia in here but i'll make a seperate post for that.

he totally buys you cute outfits n lingerie sets.

loves making you wear cow lingerie<333 he's obsessed with how your tits are so snug against the bra and you might as well not even be wearing panties with how much of your ass it out. but he loves it, all of your curves, rolls, n soft edges.

MAID OUTFIT. MAID OUTFIT. MAID OUTFIT. with the headpiece n everything. (sometimes he uses it as an excuse to make you clean up his messes) (and he totally gets off from it) he got the skirt tailored so it ends jussttttt beneath your ass. every time you bend down to pick something up he has to resist the urge to knead your ass like dough,,,,,

he doesnt like buying dildos because it makes him feel insecure, but he's more than willing to buy you (or make you??) a vibrator. he LIVES to see you writhe and whimper while he uses a wand on you. sometimes he even ties your hands behind your back so you cant hide yourself.

he's also really into sensory deprovision. on you and him.

when he's doing it on you he loves to make everything intense. putting his hands all over you, inside you, there's not one moment where he's not touching you. he just loves seeing how you jump and squeak in surprise, completely as his mercy.

when it's on him, he'll ask you to go slow. he's not used to physical touch of any kind, so you have to take it step by step. starting with his face, kissing on his jawline and the corners of his mouth. just feeling your lips on him is enough to make him twitch.

when you go lower to his chest, his breathing starts to get heavier. he's squirming, desperate to touch himself but he knows you'll stop touching him if he does. his breath hitches every time you press a kiss to his skin, he's hot to the touch.

as dominant as he is, it's so easy to get him to be sub! just put a blindfold around him and then go to town. he'll be putty in your hands immediately.

MASOCHIST IDIA I AM STANDING ON THIS!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!! when he's fucking you he cant get enough of how you rake your nails down his back. the burning sensation just makes him wanna go down on you harder.

SLAPHIM SLAP HIM SLAP HIS FACE WHILE HE'S ON TOP!!! he's so into it. smack him and tell him to go faster, harder, tell him to do it better.

he loves when you degrade him. hearing your tone of disapproval just makes him wanna do better, do you harder.

and GOD he's so obsessed with you, how could he not fill you up every second he's alone with you??? literally 65% of the time you're together he's pinning you down on his bed and stuffing you full.

he especially loves when you beg for it. hearing you beg for him to breed you makes him feel so warm n fuzzy inside, like ME?? you want ME TO FILL YOU UP??? WHAT AN HONOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

not only that but he loves it because it makes him feel closer to you. he loves you so much, he just wishes you could be a part of him<3333 and that's the closest he can get.

[mattslolita]

SLEEPOVERS WITH BFF!MATT (😏🙂‍↕️)

GIGGLINGGG oh yes cuddles, movies, & snacks that somehow turn into something more....

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

bff!matt . . . who would open the door to see you excited and giggling, holding a bundle of snacks as well as a tote bag filled with various movies. he can't stop the grin that stretches across his face upon seeing you so happy and excited, and he discreetly lets his eyes travel down to your bare legs, only having been covered up by the over sized sweater ( his, of course ) you chose to wear.

bff!matt . . . who'd say, "looks like really thought this out, didn't you?" teasingly, as you come inside. you're immediately rambling about all the movies you have picked out, but matt can't stop his eyes that wander down to see your ass which swayed with every step you took. but sweet little you didn't notice his hungry stare, undressing you with his eyes as you led the both of you into the kitchen.

bff!matt . . . who's peering over your shoulder to look at your snacks, trapping you from behind with both of his hands on either side of the table. from the way you start to stutter slightly and shift, he smirks because he can tell that his hot breath fanning on your neck has some type of affect on you. "cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" you would roll your eyes and elbow him, causing him to clutch his stomach as you giggle and bound over to the couch. gosh, you were such a fuckin' tease.

bff!matt . . . who's sitting down next to you on the couch, having already rested his arm behind you, pulling you closer to him. his touch lingers and leaves goosebumps on your skin, causing you to clench your thighs. matt notices this, which he's definitely gonna tease you about.

bff!matt . . . who would whisper, "what's got you so worked up, huh?" condescendingly, his breath tickling your neck as he leans towards you, and you let out a huff of air as you squeeze your legs — he absolutely loves seeing you squirm under his touch, and he's eager to see how else he can get you going.

bff!matt . . . who would discreetly dance his fingers along the bare skin of your uncovered thighs, sensing your eyes that linger on them — you'd make no move to stop them of course, which would pull a grin from him as his hands dance closer and closer towards the . . . lace thong?

bff!matt . . . who almost growls at the sight of you not wearing any shorts under the sweater. "s'like you wanted me to see you wearin' these, huh?" you whimpered as you guided his hand towards where you needed him the most, his fingers grazing the wet patch on your underwear teasingly.

bff!matt . . . who nearly wanted to take you right there when you tell him, "need you matt, please," you said in a sultry tone, biting your lip as his fingers expertly pulled your panties to the side. he gathers your slick on his fingers and rubs small, teasing circles around your clit, eliciting a gasp as you moan lowly — the movie was long forgotten as matt sped his movements up, quiet moans leaving your lips as he kisses along your neck and jawline, nipping at the supple skin there.

bff!matt . . . who already feels you clenching around his fingers, pulling a groan from him as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. "s'close, matt...gonna cum..." you whimper out, arching your back to meet his pace. the sight alone makes the bulge in his pants very constricted, but he refrains from doing anything about it, as he wants to tease for as long as he wants.

bff!matt . . . who's grunting in your ear, "c'mon baby, let go f'me...such a good girl..." as your orgasm crashes over you, your release spraying all over matt's fingers. he's enamored by your fucked expression, his eyes clouded with lust as he watches you ride out your orgasm.

bff!matt . . . who licks your arousal clean off his fingers, as you watch him with a breathless expression — but oh, he's far from done with you for the night. "get on your knees f'me, sweet girl. guess we won't be doin' the sleep portion of this after all."

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 17] || [Chapter 19]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Soap is cute.

Chapter 18: Picnic

It’s 11 A.M. on Sunday when you wake up to your phone ringing. Normally you wouldn’t sleep in so late, but it’s a Sunday and you’ve got no plans, so you’re tucked into bed, lightly dozing off and feeling comfortable.

You roll over and hiss at the cold sheets next to you before you grab your phone from the charger and take it to your ear without looking at the Caller ID.

Clearing your throat, you greet a rough: “Hello…?” and rub your eyes. 

“Oh, someone’s sleepy, huh?” Johnny asks from the other end. “Did I wake ye, sweetheart?” He asks you, amused.

“Yeah… What time is it..?” You ask as you roll back to the warm side of your bed.

“11 A.M..” He tells you with a chuckle. “I’m bored and alone… You mind if I come over?” He asks you.

“Sure…” You reply softly. “Just give me like… 20 minutes to get ready…” You tell him,

“About that…” Johnny replies and then you hear your doorbell ringing through your flat. “I’m downstairs.” He chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Johnny!” You groan. “You can’t show up unannounced like this! The flat’s a mess and I’m not dressed! I need to shower ans all…” You trail off.

“It’s not ‘unannounced’, I called you to announce myself!” He replies and, by the tone of his voice, you know he has a smile on his lips. 

“Besides, I don’t mind if you shower… Hell, I’ll join ye.” He says with a mischievous chuckle. “Get you all lathered up in the shower, soapy skin and all, hm?” He continues.

“You know what?” You say as you snuggle into the blankets. “No.” You say directly. “You’re going to stay down there while I get ready.” You tell him.

“Wha-?” He asks in surprise with a gasp. “But… It’s pishin’ out here.” He tells you.

You turn to look out your bedroom window and sigh at the sight of the cloudy grey skies and rain hitting the panes.

“Well, tough luck! I’m not dressed so I’m not letting you in yet.” You reply. “Hope you’ve got an umbrella.”

“I’ve brought food, mo leannan, it’s going to get cold!” He announces.

“Goddamn you.” You grumble as you toss back the blankets and get up, rushing across the flat to buzz him in at the intercom.

“Thanks!” He adds as he hangs up the call. 

-

“You know, most people would say thank you for getting to have warm food picked up by their boyfriend and spend an afternoon being lazy and having a picnic in the living room.” Soap quips and nudges you with his elbow while watching you eat the soft shell taco he bought you.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, using the coffee table to hold your meal and drinks. You’ve noticed that you barely use your actual dining table for what it’s designed… Especially since the boys entered your life.

Johnny sits across from you wearing a pair of navy joggers that cling onto his bulky thighs way too much, and a grey Henley shirt that clings to every muscle of his arms and torso and leaves his collarbone exposed, since the buttons aren't done up.

“Excuse me?” You retort. “A) You’re not my boyfriend,” You begin to say as Soap quips “Yet.” halfway through, which causes you to shoot him a look for interrupting you.

“And B) You didn’t give me time to get ready. I need a shower…” You grumble, to which he, also, has a reply ready. “Ye can shower after. We can even have a nice bath together.” You shoot him another dirty look.

He knows that you’ve noticed that he thinks with his lower head more often than not… And the way he’s smiling at you, all impish and mischievous makes you roll your eyes.

“And C) this hardly counts as a picnic!” You finish as you finish your taco and reach to grab a new one from the box.

“I disagree. It’s food you can eat with your hands and you’re sitting on a blanket on the floor.” He replies. “That’s a picnic.”

“Is not, a picnic is meant to be had in nature.” You retort as you take a bite of your new taco.

“Oh? You’d rather be out there in the pouring rain to make your point?” He retorts with a playful smug on his lips as he points out the window.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “No.” 

“Then it’s a picnic.” He retorts. “And my point still stands that you shouldn’t complain so much.” He adds.

“You’re impossible, Johnny.” You tell him.

He smirks at you and continues eating, his blue eyes watching you closely as you eat the meal he’s bought you, a soft smile on your lips despite the fact you’re a bit annoyed at him.

“Ye know…” He says as he reaches for his can of Coke and takes a sip. “Ye make Simon and Kyle really happy.” He tells you.

Your eyebrows rise as you keep chewing your food. “I do?”

“Aye.” He replies as he leans his elbow on his knee to keep looking at you. “Simon doesn’t talk much about it, but I see it in the way he looks at you. The way he touches ye. Never ever seen the L.T. be so gentle with anyone.” He explains.

“And Kyle… He’s usually upbeat and all but he’s more… well… unbothered, ye ken? Doesn’t fuss about things, always relaxed, chill.” He continues. “Haven’t seen him smile as much as he does as when he bounces up from his chair at the end of the day and rushes out to go pick ye up.” He admits.

Your eyes soften a bit and you find your whole face getting hot as you hear him so you shovel the rest of your taco in your mouth so you can’t say something embarrassing.

“And, to be honest, I get it.” He replies. “I see the way ye light up when you see them…” He admits. “Ye’re so bonnie when ye’re smiling… And yer jokes and banter just put a smile on my face too…” He trails off.

Swallowing your food, you take a greedy gulp of your own soda to try and process what you want to say and you just end up blurting out a soft “I’m just me…”

“And ye’re great.” He replies and smiles as he goes back to eating his food, as if he hadn’t just said something so… sweet and deep.

The rest of the meal is spent talking about other things, less important, less deep things. You look at him with interest and intrigue, as if trying to figure him out, as you two talk about inconsequential things and make banter.

He shows you a couple of his art pieces on his phone, causing you to coo at them, especially a page he’s been working on that’s just got little portraits of everyone he works with. Ghost, Gaz, John… But also some other people he introduces to you. An ‘Alejandro’, a ‘Rudy’, a ‘Nik’, an ‘Alex’... And a ‘Farah’ and a ‘Laswell’. 

You come to realize that he’s… interesting, fun, easy to talk to, silly... Despite how stupid and silly and boring his profile on Tinder made him out to be… Soap’s… great.

Once the meal is done, you tidy up the living room a bit. He takes the trash to the bin, while you fix the pillows and blankets and run the roomba over the kitchen and living room… And, once you’re done, you turn to look at him while you both stand by the couch.

Biting your lip, you look up at him. “So… about that bath?” You whisper.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

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[angelisverba]

bug

in which harry is spider-man, and y/n happens to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time

word count: 4k~

pairing: spiderman!h and y/n

warnings: sexual assault. danger. angst. kissing. grinding. kinda mask kink?

author's note: i know i said i was gonna work on florist... but let's be honest, when have i ever done what i said i was going to do? he just grabbed me by the throat okay? i'm sorry.

Harry… he’s not like everyone else. 

He does things he doesn’t always enjoy doing, but he does them because he has to. Because if he doesn’t, then who will? These aren’t things he can hide, and he’s judged for them. Not everyone likes what he does.

But it’s fine. It’s part of the job. 

Being Spider-Man isn’t easy. 

The moment he was aware of what he could do, Harry accepted his fate of fighting crime, defending those that couldn’t with superhuman abilities which came from the bite of a radioactive spider at the lab he interned for. 

He felt so alone, so alienated under the harsh newspaper headlines that labeled him a demon, a criminal, a havoc, that sometimes he wondered what separated him from the bad guys he caught so violently with. It was a struggle to keep in mind his end goal: keep his city safe. To fight for good. To protect. 

Some nights, like tonight, he was so numbed by the repetitive nature of his days, the brutal fighting over and over again that seems to never end, that as he stooped on the ledge of a tall building, he wanted so carelessly to damn it all to hell. Why him? Why, why, why? 

Harry was tired, having not slept more than eight hours in the past week, and he the strain on his senses is noticeable. Every sound makes his breath catch in anticipation, any movement agitating his hyperfocused irises. He felt like a thread pulled tight. So tight, he was beginning to fray, to snapping. Normally, the suit he wears goes unnoticed. But tonight? He felt it on every inch of his skin. Harry wanted to rip it off. 

He’s playing with the fabric, snapping it against his skin, when he hears it. 

“No, please. I don’t have any money, please stop touching me, I’m begging you.”

The voice was female. Sweet and innocent, but filled with fear. It didn’t sound right. He swung off in the direction of the yelps before he even knew what he was doing, why he was doing what he was doing. 

“Oh, we know that,” a man laughed and there was a rustle telltale of struggle. He was a drunk, Harry knew by the phlegm in his tone, “you’ve got something much better than money.”

He was getting closer by the second, could almost feel his webs sticking to the girl’s assailant. All the fatigue from earlier melted off him as he entered the necessary headspace to fight someone. 

“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting me!” The mystery girl was crying now, panic taking full control of her voice. 

“Quit moving, girl!” Harry could tell by the increased scuffling that her attacker was getting frustrated, his movements more aggressive. 

He was a blue of red and blue as he swung into the alley where a large bearded man had cornered and was pawing a young girl. He saw flashes of skin and clothing, and didn’t hesitate to kick the man off her. 

“She told you to stop,” he chastised. The webs shot out of his wrist at their own accord, wrapping around the man’s ankles and wrists and clamping over his mouth. He was on the floor now, thrashing and trying to regain some sort of balance, but Harry knew he had fully incapacitated him. 

The dim light leaking in from the flickering street lamp sprayed on the girl as she crouched in the corner, shivering with wide, wet eyes, and Harry’s heart broke. 

“It’s all right now, sweetheart,” he said softly so he wouldn’t scare her anymore than she already was. He knew what the media thought of him. 

She flinched at the sound of his voice, so he tried again, “I’m not going to hurt you-“ 

A loud grunt interrupted him, and a prickly feeling of irritation ran down his spine and jerked him into action. Harry picked the man up by the collar, grumbled out a shut up, motherfucker and knocked him out cold with a punch. 

“Sorry about that,” he huffed once the man slumped down silently, “did he hurt you?” 

The girl tilted her wobbly chin up, and it felt as though he had fallen from the tallest building in the city and smacked down on the ground back first, all the breath from his body vanished. She shook her head and shivered again, sniffling. 

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, whispering. Hoping that the smile hiding underneath his mask was audible. 

“Y/n,” she peeped, side-eyeing him like she was testing him, “and yours?” 

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat, “you know my name.” It wasn’t a question, but y/ nodded anyway. He thought the name was cute, fitting. He thought she was cute even in her disheveled state. Hair a flurry around her, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks pink from the chill of night. “Say it.”

It came out like a prayer from her lips, and he’s sure that he wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his superhuman hearing. A thrill ran though him, his body tensing as if preparing to fight  “Spider-man.”

“That’s right,” his nod was a mere chin dip. He cocked his head, crouched low so they were at an even height. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.” 

“Good. How ‘bout I take you home? Spider-style.” He sprung up and held out his hand, waiting, hoping, for her to take it. 

She was tender in his palm, soft. Wrapping his hand around hers securely, he helped her to her feet and slung a web towards the bags she had dropped in the midst of her fighting. She tried to pull back, but Harry held her still and shook his head. 

“This won’t work if we’re not touching, you that right?” 

He watched as the realization set in, her eyes widening and her pouty lips parting. 

“We’re-?” She gestured loosely at him and the buildings, and he chuffed. Yeah, she was cute. 

“Yes. We are. Unless you want to walk?” 

“No.” 

“Good. Come closer. Closer,” she steps timidly forward until her mary janes are touching the tips of his booted feet. “I’m going to grab you now,” he warned. 

“Okay-“ looping an arm around her waist, he clutched her close. She was cold, smaller than him. Y/n was shaking, her heart beating fast. He could tell that she was still running high on adrenaline, and that it would only spike further. 

“Where do you live?” 

She rattled an address he recognized as one of the semi-safer parts of the city. 

“Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for the full yes to leave her mouth, and together they leave the ground. They swung between buildings, Harry reveling in the way she held on to him and squealed in his ear. It felt a lot like sharing, and when she laughed, he felt a little less lonely for the first time since all this happened.

When they land on her fire escape, he tries not to think about how erotic it feels to have her slide down the front of his body, or how her palms glide down his chest. Or how her breath hitches when he involuntary leans forwards. 

Instead he holds on tight to her goodbye, letting her sweetly mumbled “night, spidey” lull him to sleep when he gets home. 

And that was the first time they met. 

****

The next time, it’s burglars. 

It’s two guys in ski masks throwing bricks through the glass window of a romance bookstore, and a shrill scream that halts everything to a stop and sends him leaping down and swinging from light poles to get to the shop. The sun isn’t even all the way down yet. 

And Harry knows she’s there. His sense doesn’t pick up on people, but he knows because a funny feeling kicks it’s way through his gut and his heart beats a little faster. 

These guys have empty backpacks and thick jackets, heavy duty boots. Briefly, it occurs to Harry that out of all the places to rob, this is the most stupid. 

But it doesn’t matter how stupid the crime is, because it’s still dangerous, and she’s still in danger. 

From his vantage point behind the guys that didn’t even hear him land, he can see that y/n has taken a place behind the register and is on the phone- with the cops most likely. There aren’t any customers inside because- as the signs on the door says- they had just closed. So it’s just her. 

Harry waits for them to actually trespass (another crime to keep them behind bars) before actually doing anything. He shoots a web at one of the guys feet and another at his hands quickly, silently. The first, now on the floor, is yelling so that his partner, deeper in the store, gets a warning. 

“Fucking get the girl, Sly!” He shouts. 

Sly, the other guy in the store, takes one look over his shoulder and does as he was told. He jumps at y/n, and suddenly there’s a gun in his hand. 

Suddenly, Harry can’t breathe because it’s pressed against y/n’s temple. She’s in a chokehold at his chest, clawing at a meaty bicep and choking back tears of fear. 

“Now, Sly,” he held his hands out in front of him and slowly walked forward. “There’s no need for all this. Let the girl go.” 

“Shut up! Shut up! I need to think,” Sly’s eyes were wide beneath his mask. He’s frazzled and huffy and Harry’s so scared he’s going to act irrationally. His senses are peaked, eyes tracking every minuscule movement in search of an opening. Y/n is trying to make eye contact with him (or at least as much as she can through the mask) to gain some kind of reassurance, and it’s crushing him that he can’t look at her. 

Sly fucks up, using the gun to scratch his head while thinking, and Harry steps in, webbing his hand to the nearest fixture in a move that knocks the weapon out of his hand. The other however, is still around y/n, so he’s running forward to snatch her away while he’s busy glancing at his hand. 

Once she’s safely deposited on the side somewhere- and he doesn’t miss the way her hands follow him as he falls away, as if mourning the loss of his touch- Harry eagerly pummels the guy. 

“Fuck you and you’re thinking,” he grits out, clocking him once, twice, and three times before he’s unconscious on the floor. 

His chest is heaving, his fist flexing out from its clench. Turning and stepping over the body, he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?” 

“You remembered my name,” she said. She stood up, walking towards him as he did the same. They’re chest to chest, and she lifts a hand. Trying to touch him. 

But he can’t bear it. Can’t bear her touching him because he knows it’ll break him. So he catches the and holds it mid-air. Tries to appease her by combing her hair back with his free hand, and it works. 

“‘Course I did, sweetheart,” he’s taken by the way she leans into his touch, nuzzling his hand like a puppy. In a trance almost, one that’s broken by the distant screech of cops. “I have to go.”

He lets her go, and- “Spider-man, wait!” 

But he couldn’t wait, the sirens were just around the corner. 

****

The third time it’s by accident, and she doesn’t even know it’s him. 

The brush shoulders at a coffee shop, and the distinct smell of her perfume making turn around, like those cartoons with the pie, to watch her walk down the street through the window. Harry is mesmerized by the swing of her hips and is surprised by his Victorian fascination over the swish of her skirt against her ankles. Teasing. She has a tote bag slung on her shoulders, and a book in one hand while the other brings her iced tea to her lips. His eyes lock on her tongue swiping up a droplet of her drink, and his teeth clench. He can’t do this. Not with her. He can’t lust after her. She’s too sweet. 

He frowns and shakes his head because she’s reading while walking, and in the city that’s just begging for an accident. 

He glances down at the title. 

And then he goes to buy it at the bookstore she works at. 

**** 

So it’s the fourth time now. Not even two days after he saw her at the coffee shop. And again, she doesn’t know it’s him. 

He understands why she got hired at the pink romance store. He’s walking around like a creep, an isle over as she makes her way through the customers, asking if they need help and recommending her favorites (all of which he memorizes) or whatever might fit their inquiries. Her voice sweeter than all the times he had previously heard it. She has a very interesting way of talking about sex in books, very innocent. And suddenly, Harry realizes she isn’t. 

He finds the book she was walking around with the other day, and is flipping through it when she stumbles upon him. 

“Oh!” she stutters, skirting to a stop and glancing down at what’s in his hands. He keeps his gaze locked in her face, notices the way her skin flushes when she notices what he’s holding, and how she struggles to maintain eye contact with him as she says, “that one is- it’s uh- really good.” 

Just to fuck with her, he tucks the novel under his arm and cocks a hip against the shelf. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” She rolls her lips in her mouth and flicks her eyes over to the shelf next to him, then back to the book under his arm and her face turns red. 

Harry attempts to hide his smirk, and fails. “Got any other ones you liked as much as this one?” 

Nodding, “A few.” 

“Great, I’ll take them.” 

She rings him up, bright red, and stutters her way through a conversation about what it’s like to work here, if it’s safe, if the rumor about the robbery was true. 

And he’s so, so pleased, when she said, “spider-man took care of me,” with the dreamiest smile dawning on her angelic face. 

**** 

The fifth time he can’t stop thinking about her. 

He’s incredibly surprised at her explicit choice of reading material. 

Two out of the three novels explore mask kinks. 

Who do they both know wears a mask? 

Him.

In the novel she was so caught up in she couldn’t even put it down as she was walking down the street, the female heroine is rescued my a masked vigilante whom she later has very kinky sex with. Mask included. 

And… well, Harry just can’t but think that it’s such a coincidence that she picks up this book after their interaction. That she’s so consumed by it she can’t leave it alone, not even while she’s walking, and then she blushes at the mere mention of his name. Could it possibly be that… she was thinking of him? 

No. 

No it couldn’t be. 

She was too… too sweet to be reading this absolutely filthy things. Too pretty. 

He’s confused, and maybe that’s why he finds himself pacing the roof of the building across from her in the dead of night, staring at her fire escape like a total weirdo. The newspapers would have a field day with what he was doing, and y/n would run for the hills screaming if she knew what he was thinking about. 

Flashes of all the indecent things he wanted to do to her ran through his mind like a torture montage. His head between her thighs with only the bottom half of his mask pulled up. Kissing her while she’s completely naked, sitting in his lap while he’s still totally dressed in his suit. 

He wanted to-

There was a flicker of light at the window he knew was hers, and everything in him stilled. He watched like a peeping tom as y/n opened her window and crawled onto the fire escape. She was in a flimsy pair of shimmery shorts and a t-shirt that just barely grazed her belly button. 

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and from his vantage point he could see the peaks of her nipples poking against the fabric, taunting him. 

Harry groaned, low in his throat. 

And then she looked at him. 

Eyes wide, lips parted, her hands clenching and unclenching against her thighs that were pressed together and-

A breeze swept through in his direction, and carried the scent of arousal. 

Her arousal. 

She mouthed hi. 

And then he was on her fire escape, standing right in front of her. His body was tense, ready to spring into action. Silently, he crouched at the opposite end of her, the space between them small on the rickety fixture. 

“Spider-man,” she whispered, as if testing the waters. There was an eagerness in her tone, and Harry had an idea of why that was. He felt it too, hard in his cock. 

“Hello, y/n,” he rasped. 

“What are you doing here?”

“You know. You know why I’m here.” He tilted his head and beckoned her, “come. Sit.” Harry pointed at his thighs, and sluggishly, y/n got up and straddled him. He could feel her thighs quivering around him, weak from nerves or lack of balance, so he placed his hands on her hips and guided her so their centers aligned, and they were looking right at each other’s face. 

“I don’t understand,” her lips were pouty, shiny under the mooonlight. He wanted to bite them until they were swollen.

“Don’t lie,” he pinched her thigh in punishment and then soothed it with a soft caress. “Lift up my mask.” 

Her shaking hands crept up his chest, feeling, and he groaned, absently thrusting up into her. She gasped, but her hands continued to move, wrapping delicately around his throat in search of the seam. When she found it, she pulled the mask up, but stopped so it rested at the bridge of his nose. Just as he knew she would. 

Chilly fingers skittered on the line of his jaw, over his lips. Her eyes dazed, memorizing, “What’s going on?”

“Will you do as I say, y/n?”

“Yes.” 

Their mouths came together in a rush, wet and lacking any order. Like they were picking back up in the middle of a make-out session. She tasted like mint, cool and fresh and dulcet. Her tongue was timid, submissive to his, but equally as curious. His teeth grazed her lips, and she purred. Her core felt molten hot even through his suit, and he knew without even having to touch her that she was so wet for him. 

 Harry pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, their chests heaving as they greedily suck in air, “take what you want from me. I’ll give it to you. But don’t ask questions. And don’t take off my mask. Understand, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good. Now sit,” to emphasize, he pushes her down on his thick cock and rubs her back and forth, “in my lap and grind your sweet little pussy on me until you come.” 

Y/n flushes at his vulgarity, and leans back in to kiss him, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she begins to move just how he showed her. The weight of her pussy on him engulfed him, and as she dragged up against him, slowing down and pausing at the head of his dick and swiveling so he could feel her clit, stars exploded behind his clenched eyes. Y/n was already whimpering, hot mouthfuls of air puffing into his mouth so it was clear she wasn’t breathing right. He pulls back and dips his head so he’s able to kiss down her throat and to her chest, bringing his mouth to the plushy mouth of her tits. 

“That’s it,” he praises against her nipple, “that’s it, sweet girl, you’re almost there.” 

Her moans fill the air, increasing and climbing until she shatters and Harry fucks up against her like it’s the real thing. A wet spot darkens the front of her panties, and he’s sticky inside his suit. They’re both spent, heaving as they clutch each other on the fire escape. 

Y/n nuzzles against him, “will you come back?” 

“I’ll try, sweetheart,” he whispers kissing her forehead and standing with her in his arms so he can place her safely back inside. 

He doesn’t follow, doesn’t cross the threshold.

Because if he does, their night won’t end just yet.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Satoru refuses to let go of his little sorcerer girlfriend when he becomes a vessel: Sure things have changed a bit.. Okay, a fucking lot. He's been put on a temporary leave by Yuji and the others till they can figure out a reverse. Which unfortunately for you means he's got all that time in the world to focus on your guy's relationship. "Y/n!" The unanticipated shout of your name almost makes you jump out your fuckin skin, quickly scarfing down a scolding hot piece of bacon so you don't choke. Dammit, you thought you could enjoy a nibble of breakfast before having to appease your master boyfriend. You pray to any God with a heart that Satoru wasn't too pissed at you for not being by his side when he awoke. From the goosebumps creeping down your neck and eerily sudden silence surrounding you, it's an obvious useless hopeless wish. "Why the fuck weren't you next to me when I woke up? Did I not say havin you by my side at all time keeps me from becoming.. Murderous?" The sudden presence and growled query compels you to spin around, starin up at him with wide frightened eyes. He's shirtless, gazing back with an unreadable expression as his magnificent morning wood bulges obscenely. "T-toru, I -" His hand damn near teleports to hold you firm around your slender brown neck. "Know what? I don't really feel like hearin whatever pathetic excuse is about to fall from those cute lips, baby. On your knees." He tells you, pushin you down with one hand while pullin his dick from his dark grey joggers with the other. You comply, eyes teary at how he glares down at you menacingly. "Better not disappoint me twice this morning, y/n. No tellin what I might do.." He warns, head falling back as he slips his dick into your mouth with a sinister smile on his pretty face.

corrupt!Gojo monitors the fuck outta who you talk to and where you go: If he can't have you near him 24/7, he NEEDS to know 1. Where you're goin; 2. Who's gonna be there; and 3. When the fuck you're comin home to him. "You're late. Fuck are you, little girl?" You're never gonna get used to the snarl that consistently stains his tone, even when he's not irritated. You're late coming back from what was supposed to be research on a curse, so Satoru calls you. "Just by a few minutes. I'll be there soon." You assure him, pullin your cell from your cheek briefly to check the time. "I didn't ask how late you are; I asked where you were." You don't waste a second droppin a pin. There's a bit of shuffling over the phone before he speaks again. "I'm on my way to pick you up. Stay where you are. Better be alone like you said, y/n." The line clicks dead as you heave a heavy sigh, makin sure not move an inch till you see Satoru pull up.

corrupt!Satoru doesn't do well with anyone besides himself being mean to you: Slamming your front door shut upon entering, you stomp towards your bedroom as tears of frustration leak from your eyes. You don't make it past the couch in the living room before Satoru's sittin down on it, perching you in his lap. "Who fuckin did it, baby? Huh? Tell me! I'll rip their fuckin head off." His gruesome words don't match the soft imploring look in his piercing eyes; you miss that look so much that the truth spills from your lips without a thought. "I thought I'd make it to Grade 2 today.. It didn't happen. They brought in someone new. Some jerk that failed me cause I wouldn't let him touch me." Your hands slap over your mouth, the last sentence accidentally comin out before you can think. That unreadable expression graces his features before you end up face down in the couch, panties swiftly pulled to your thighs as he eats your poor unsuspecting lil puss from the back. "What the fuuuuuck? Toru, ah! S-satoru, wait. Please just- ohmyGod!" Ofcourse he ignores you. Slurps ya cunt so good that you cum in under a minute. Only then do you get a response. "Get the fuck up. We're goin back up there. Gonna have a lil chat with Mr. New Guy." He commands you, landing one more lick up your slit and a harsh slap to your ass. You leveled up that day. And Mr. New Guy was gone by the next. Yuji and the others don't bother standing in Satoru's way.

corrupt!Satoru loves marking your body and staking his claim: He doesn't think a day should pass before he's adding a new one to the collection. So he corners you when you're in the kitchen doin the dishes. "Hey gorgeous. Wanna make you cum real quick.." He mumbles, pressin up behind you. His hard cock humps your backside slow and firm as he fingers you through your itty bitty shorts. The first swipe has you poppin your ass back on his dick, keening Satoru's name like a fuckin banshee. "That the spot, princess? Yeah it is.. Know all your spots. Just like Daddy should, huh?" His tone is so cocky but you know better than to disagree and nod to his question anyway. "Yeeees, only you can make me feel like this. Always make me feel so goood, Toru." He soaks in your praise and at this point it's a givin that you've completely abandoned your task. A damp hand slides to the back of his head for a handful of his soft snowy locks as he nips and sucks at your neck. His sensual lips are one of your weaknesses; never fail to make you whimper like a bitch in heat. "Satoruuuuu.. Daddy please. Want some dick.." He chuckles at you, wonderin if you can even handle it- not like that would stop him. Still, your knees are already so you weak he has to hold you up, arms slung around your waist to plaster your back to his front. "Fuck baby, so pretty when you beg for my cock. Look even prettier when you let me claim you like this." Fine, he'll give you what you want. But first.. He pulls his lengthy dick out, your small shorts down, and slips it between your plushy brown ass cheeks. Your boyfriend's eyes nearly cross at the tight warm hold of you. Satoru pants and huffs, quickly starting off with short strokes that numb his mind. "I'm gonna fuck this perfect fat ass one day, y/n. Thats right, and you're not gonna be able to stop me. You can beg and cry and scream all you want.. Mmmfuck- but Daddy's not gonna listen, baby. Not one bit. I'm gonna keep goin till you squirt all over me from the feelin of it." Precum assists him slidin back and forth with ease, but his filthy words aid the throbbing in your clit and flutter in your gushy cunt. You only moan back in response to his dirty admission. Its okay. Satoru knows you always get like this: speechless when you're about to cum. Goddamn you turn him on so fuckin much. He bites at the sensitive spot on your throat, locking his teeth and groaning like a wild man. It makes you clench around his dick, him in turn pressin his digits with an accuracy that forces you to cum so good. "Good fuckin giiiirl, baby! So proud of you. Takin my mark and cummin on my hand- fuuuuuck. I own you, princess." Your quick wordless whines spur him on, fingers still yanking his hair viciously as your arousal spills to the kitchen floor. The sting of the pull has Satoru howling while he cums buckets in you. He's licking messily at the fresh bite on your neck as he smears his nut all over your plump ass. Fuck, you always make him buss so fuckin so hard! He's breathing fast, eyes flickin between where he paints you, your new bite mark and how fucked out you look even though you haven't had his dick yet. Speaking of, why the hell is he still so goddamn rigid? But you.. "You're so fuckin wet.." Satoru spears you on his cock without a second thought, your loud stunned cry makin a warmth shoot up his spine. He doesn't know when your hand joined the other in his hair, just cherishes how tight you grip at him when he fucks the rest of his cock into you. Appreciates and adores any and everything you have to offer. 'Shit.. Guess its time to put a baby in you.' Satoru thinks as he holds you round your waist and drills your lil puss as you shout out in surprised pleasure. Christ, he loves you so fuckin much and he's never letting you go.

corrupt!Satoru In layman's terms: He shows you that he is very fuckin possesive and owns you in every conceivable way.

[judes-hoe]

Tough Love ~ JB5

Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x oc

Summary ~ Emilia is 21 and has signed up for Love Island. She’s seen and watched their previous seasons, and she’s tried of not being able to find and good stable relationship. So she signed up for Love Island to find real love, but it’s gonna be tough to get this love. Maybe possibly win also.

Warnings ~ none atm

A/N ~ this is gonna be in 2024 but with the season 5 people:)

A/N pt.2 ~ Emilia is gonna be considered different from the other girls!!! She’s gonna have a bit more stomach(like a little pudge) and thick thighs and curves.(am not body shaming or anything I want my oc to look like that!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emilia arrived at the villa alone, she looked around and couldn’t believe she had been picked to come on love island. She was wearing this light brown bikini that fit her natural tan skin.

Emilia was about 5’6, she was born and raised in the UK but had Italian in her. She’s got a bit of a pudge stomach and thick thighs with some curves. She does work out so she’s a bit strong.

As she’s walking into the villa she sees three girls standing and talking with champagne in their hands. “Hiii girls!” Emilia said as she walks over towards them. “Oh you are stunning!” One said. “Oh look at that body.” Another said. “Oh man I want you over the boys.” The last said.

She smiles and walks over to them. “Hi, I’m Emilia.” She said standing next to them and giving each a hug. “I’m Amy.” The blond said. “I’m Amber.” The curly hair said. “I’m Anna.” The tall girl with blackish brown hair said.

“So tell us about yourself?” Amy said pouring Emilia some champagne. “Okay well, I’m 21, I’m from Stourbridge, and I’m a painter and drawer.” Emilia said taking a sip of her champagne. “What’s your type?” Anna asked. “I’m honestly not picky at all, I just need a guy with a good personality, kind, loving, trustworthy, and caring.” Emilia said with a smile. “I think that’s what we all want.” Amber said taking a sip of her champagne.

They all chat and the girls tell Emilia about their selves. They moved over to the sofa drinking their champagne. They were all chilling when they heard noise coming from the hall where they entered. This pretty black girl with wavy hair walked in. “Hiiii girl you’re so pretty!” They all said complementing her.

She sits down and introduces herself. “Hi I’m Yewande.” She said and sat down tell us about herself. After she introduced herself another girl walks in. “Heyyy girls!” She said and walked over to the sofa. “I’m lucie.” She said and sat down.

They all chat for a bit, and go quiet when they hear walking again. The hostess, Caroline, walks in with a jean dress on. She comes over to them and sits in the middle of all six of them. “So ladies let’s talk love.” She said. “Anna, why are you here?” She asked. “Well I got my heart broken and I’m here to find love.” She explained.

Caroline asked everyone why there were here and what there type was. “Alright ladies let’s get you coupled up.” She said and walked us over to the six dots on the grass. “Okay so one boy will come out, they introduce themselves. I then ask if you fancy and then you’ll step forward and he’ll get to choose who he wants.” She explained.

All the girls nod and wait for the first guy to come out. This muscular, white, brown hair guy comes out and he has a Scottish accent. He greets Caroline and stands, she explains the way it works to him. “Girls this is Anton.” Caroline said, “so please step forward if you fancy Anton.”

It was a few moments and Amy steps forward. The next guy was a black guy named Sherif. Caroline introduced Sherif and nobody stepped up for him but he ended up picking Amber. The next guy to come out was a light toned, curly hair, and tattoos. His name was Michael, he was cute and had a scouser accent. Emilia and Lucie both step forward for him.

“Oh wow, Michael, you have two lovely girls, lucie and Emilia.” Caroline said. “You can pick any of the girls even the ones coupled up.” She said. “I think I’ll go with lucie, she seems lovely.” Michael said.

Emilia just nods and steps back. “Emilia, who do you feel for not getting pick.” Caroline asked. “I mean it’s whatever yeah, he picks what he wants.” She said and shrugged. Next up was a white guy, wavy hair, and blue eyes. His name was Joe. Lucie stepped up saying sorry to Michael, and Yewande stepped up.

Joe ended up picking Lucie and Michael went and sat on one of the chairs to the side. The next guy was a little more toned than Micheal but he was about 6ft, his hair was a little curly. His name was Jude. Emilia, and Anna stepped forward. Jude ended up picking Anna.

“Emilia, second time you’ve not been picked after stepping forward how do you feel?” Caroline asked. “Hey I mean, they guys want what they want and I can’t change that.” Emilia said just being honest.

The last guy came out and he was white with a little tan, he hair kinda went to the side. His name was Callum. Amber was the only one who stepped up and left Sherif behind. Callum picked Amber and Sherif sat next to Michael on the side.

Emilia and Yewande have not coupled up. “So Michael and Sherif, you can each pick one girl to couple up with.” Caroline said. “I’ll pick Emilia, she stepped up for me and she’s really pretty.” Michael said. “I’ll do with Yewande then, I mean she’s pretty she looks nice.” Sherif said.

“Now that we’ve got all six couples, you’ll be facing challenges, getting to know each other, living together, making’s decisions together, and even sharing a bed together.” Caroline said and they all cheer. “In the next 8 weeks the people will be voting for their favorite couple, that couple will be granded £50,000 and the winners of 2024 love island.” Caroline added.

Caroline left and they all started chatting. “Michael would you wanna go get to chat alone over there?” Emilia asked the scouser pointing towards the couches. “Sure let’s go.” He said taking her hand and leading her to the couches.

“So tell me a bit about yourself Emilia?” He asked getting comfortable. “Well I’m a painter, I’m 21, I’m a bit of an animal lover, and I’m just a normal girl.” Emilia said with a small laugh. “Oh you’re a painter?” He said. “Yeah so people will sometimes send me pictures and stuff to paint, I’ve gone to a few weddings and done like first kiss and painted while the wedding happened.” Emilia explained. “Sounds like you must be a good painter.” Michael said.

Everyone chats a bit together, before they head to get dressed more appropriately. All the girls were getting ready in their room while the boys were looking around the villa.

“So Amy how do you like your Scottish guy.” Amber asked. “Oh he’s so lovely and I already know what I’m wearing to bed tonight.” Amy said holding up a sexy pj. “Ooooo.” All the girls hoot.

As they get ready Emilia is the first one done. “Girl your already done?” Anna asked doing her makeup like the other girls. “Yeah I am, I uh don’t wear makeup.” Emilia said smoothing the front of the silky red dress she was wearing.

Everyone gets a class of champagne and they dance for a little and drink. They then all settle down on one of the beds and just chat together. But then Anton ask Lucie to talk.

They all keep chatting before the boys do their thing and the girls all talk and Lucie comes back. “Yeah so Anton just talked to me, and basically just said he fancy’s me, but that like he respects me and Joe but he just wanted to let me know he fancy’s me.” Lucie said in a hushed voice so the boys didn’t overhear.

Emilia seemed to not being able to keep taking glances at Jude, she just wish he picked her, but he picked what he picked and she can’t change that and she’s not wanting to start drama.

Another hour past by and they all move to the long couch. They start to play never have I ever. “Okay never have I ever had sex in a night club.” Callum said. Emilia looks around before taking a small sip of her drink. “Hey hey hey, Emilia drank!” Jude said notice the movement. “Girl what!” Yewande said. “I got a little drunk after my favorite football team won and I was at a club…one thing led to another and I was in the bathroom.” Emilia emitted with a little smile on her face.

It went silent and there was a sudden ding from a phone. “Oh?” Everyone said. Amber pulled her phone out. “I got a text.” She said. “Islanders, it’s time for the real games to begin, please welcome the new arrivals #double trouble, #box-fresh, #hot to foxtrot.” She read the message. “Two of them?” Yewande said. “Ohhh.” Was heard all around.

All the guys were not happy. The girls were confused a little scared as the guys were. Soon two guys come out and walk over. They introduce themselves as Tommy and Curtis.

They both tell them about themselves, Tommy was related to Tyson fury’s, and was a well known boxer in Manchester. Curtis was a Latin dancer.

They all chat and ask questions to Curtis and Tommy. Then Curtis got a text. “Islanders, in 24 hours, Curtis and Tommy will each couple up with a girl of their choice, leaving two boys single and vulnerable, #the gloves are off, #takes two to tango.” Curtis read.

Well this was interesting now. Now it’s up to Tommy and Curtis to choose…..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N ~ wow this took forever to write…anyways enjoy pt.2 next week hopefully! And please comment or dm to be added to taglist!

Taglist: @adarkskinarchives @jungkookssheekscar @sinners-98-world @judesthighveins @inlikea-coolway @hananabelle @mrsaronnorrisbearman

[eupheme]

fallout masterlist

cooper howard x reader

screenshots: [ghoul] | [cooper howard] | [wallpapers]

— into the fire | series | 21k | complete

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.” His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(When you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

— mine, all mine | request | 4.4k

Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

— yours, all yours | request | 2.3k

Cooper can’t help the bark of a laugh when he realizes, disbelief woven into the sound that spills from him.

Goddamn. His little wastelander might just be jealous.

— on target | request | 1.8k

Two times the Ghoul tells you to spread your legs, and two times that you listen.

— drinkin’ in sunshine | request | 1.8k

You find yourself having to rethink your strategy, when you’re suddenly struck with feeling for the man you’re supposed to be hunting down.

— he’s a demon, he’s a devil | request | 850 words

the ghoul + cockwarming

— good rocking tonight | request | 1.5k

“You don’t know nothin’, sweetheart.” His eyes burn into yours, “But you can try. Go on, let’s see what you got.” | sub!cooper vibes + riding

cooper howard x lucy maclean

medieval!au | western!au

— keep a knockin’ (but you can’t come in) | 1.1k | ao3

“What did you just say?” It’s snarled out. Not too far from the sounds of the ghouls he just cleared.

“I said you were no Cooper-”

“No Cooper Howard. That’s what I thought,” He snarls, finishing for her - voice as deadly as a bullet, “And what the fuck do you know about him?”

— i can dream, can’t i? | one-shot | 1.4k | ao3

Lucy had grown up dreaming about Cooper Howard. She’s not sure why. How her mind can piece things together. Little snippets that feel real, flickering in the swirl of ordinary dreams. | soulmate!au

— don’t let the stars get in your eyes | one-shot | 3.3k | ao3

Can’t say he ever expected this. He hadn’t been with anyone since before, those memories long tucked away. Old wounds, those faded scars still healing.

And yet here she is, pretty little Lucy MacLean, crawlin’ into his lap & practically begging him to make her come.

john hancock x reader

— whole lotta shakin’ going on | one-shot | 5.8k

It’s a dangerous thing to have feelings for the person you’re traveling with. Too much can go wrong in an instant and yet, here they are. Steadfastly ignoring the something that’s been building, thick enough to taste. 

Luckily, an incoming rad storm might just be the push they need. 

— a good, good neighbor | request | 2.8k

when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you

— made for me | request | 1.5k

You need him. Not just tonight, but always - and Hancock is all too happy to oblige.

edward deegan x reader

— only you (and you alone) | request | 800 words

an exploration of deegan's feelings towards sole!reader

[the-prettiest-teardrop]

🍄‍🟫 and 🕷 with luke castellan maybe? Have a good day! ❤️

“REALLY?”

Pairing- Luke Castellan x reader

Warnings- Kissing, angst, crying, hiding emotions, hurt/comfort.

A/n- Sorry if this feels a bit rushed, I was struggling with trying to end this!

“C’mon, you gotta admit it, you and Y/N would make a good couple.” Chris comments. Chris, Luke, Clarisse, and you were all hanging out on the dock. Luke was layed down beside you, propped up on his elbows, head occasionally resting on your side. The comment caused your heart to flutter, your unspoken feelings for Luke coming to mind.

“No offense, but I’d never date her, we’re friends, and I wouldn’t want anything else.” Luke says with a light scoff, causing a pit to form in your stomach. Your sudden upset must’ve been somewhat present on your face with the way Clarisse immediately raises her eyebrows and then looks between the two of you in a knowing gesture. You quickly stifle a laugh, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t upset.

“You sure? Not like you’re pulling all the ladies.” You tease in an attempt to hide how upset you truly were.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He shoots back, making you sit up right, Chris and Clarisse also now paying more attention. “You know the new girl? Emma? We’ve been talking and I think we might start dating.” The news shakes you. It was one thing if he didn’t reciprocate feelings, because then he’d treat you as he always had, but a girlfriend could change your relationship. 

“Dude, that’s awesome, took you long enough.” Chris finally says, breaking the seconds of silence that had fallen over the group. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you’ve got someone now.” You say with a laugh, hoping he doesn’t hear the sadness in your tone.

“Aww, you happy that you’ll finally get to be alone for once?” He jokes back, push you lightly, causing you to rock a bit. You laugh, not quite knowing how to react.

It was hard watching the two of them walk around, the way she looked up at him, smiling at his laugh, hands on his chest. It burned, watching her get to do everything that you should be doing with him. He had been ignoring you in favor of her, acting as if you didn’t exist.

 Well, that was until a knock came at the door of your cabin. It was just you in there, sitting on your bed, reading your book. When you open the door, you’re met with Luke, his face red, hands shaking lightly.

“Can I come in?” He asks quietly, a tremor in his voice.

“Um, sure.” You reply, tone matching his own. The two of you move to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

“She- she said we couldn’t ever be together, I wasn’t good enough for her.” He says, turning to wrap his arms around you. You could tell he was trying not to cry, which broke you.

“Luke, I- I’m so sorry.” You say quietly, you wanted to be mad, but with how sad he was, you didn’t have it in you.

“I thought someone finally wanted me.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck as you held him in your arms. You could feel the tears warm your skin as he cried.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here for you.” You soothe, but you desperately wanted to pour out your feelings to him, to tell him you loved him, wanted him. 

“Can I just lay with you?” He asks timidly, picking his head up to look at you with glistening eyes. You nodded softly, moving to lay down in the small bed with him, tugging a throw blanket over you two. 

As you laid there, you began to find some sort of confidence, pulling it from somewhere inside you to finally tell him.

“Luke- I- fuck, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this out loud, but I- I love you.”

“I love you too.” He replies, not understanding the depth of it.

“No- I love you, like, more than a friend.” You breathe out, finally saying what you’d waited so long to say.

“What?” He says, moving away from you in bed and sitting upright. Your heart stops as he moves away from you.

“Listen- just forget I said anything. It just hurt to hear you say that you didn’t think anyone wanted you when I’ve wanted you for years and years.” You explain, also moving to sit up and meet his eyes, searching in them for some sort of reaction.

“No, no, I’m not mad at you, I- I just didn’t think you’d feel the same way.” He says, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“Really?” You ask in breathy tone, not believing him, even as he moved forward, placing his large hands on your cheeks. He moved forward, and finally, his lips pressed to yours, all the love, sadness, and anger the two of you had been to poured into the way your lips moved against each other. The feelings hidden for years finally revealed.

[sturnihoelo]

Passenger Princess/M.S

summary: you and matt are on a late night drive and things escalate quickly from the sexual tension of the both of you finally alone.

‼️: smut, fingering, dom!matt, degrading, dirty talk, fem!receiving/giving, masc!receiving/giving

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

it was about 11pm when we left the house. nick and chris were planning video ideas when matt had the idea to go on a late night drive with me alone. we were driving around aimlessly for about 20 minutes when matt puts his hand on my left thigh, starting in the middle and slowly making his way up to what is now my growing heat.

at this point, matt’s hand is teasing and tugging at the fabric of my waistband. i can already feel myself getting wetter by the minute. moments later, matt’s hand is down my shorts, rubbing slow circles on my clit. soft moans exit my mouth as he picks up his speed. “take off your seatbelt.” he demands. i do as he says without hesitation as i am craving his touch.

i position myself so that im hovering over his crotch. i start to play with and palm his bulge before undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, exposing his throbbing cock. spit uncontrollably dripping out of my mouth saturates his tip that oozes with precum. without hesitation, he pushes my head down into his cock and i wrap my dry lips around it.

he pushes on my head, bobbing it up and down while pulling on my hair. “you like gagging on my cock huh?” “you suck that cock so good you little fucking slut.” i respond by separated moans escaping and sucking even harder and faster. “ffuuucckkk” he groans followed by sucking in air through his teeth.

he pulls over to a dim lit parking lot. “take your shorts off.” he demands me while tears run down my face from the constant abuse on my throat and tongue. “yes daddy” i say in a low voice. “im sorry what did you say princess? i couldnt hear you.” he says in a taunting tone with a strong grip on my throat. “yes daddy” i say while moaning and loosening my shorts. “thats a good girl” “already so fucking wet for me” he smacks my ass so hard it leaves a handprint. he forces me onto my back and spreads open my legs. he takes off his seatbelt to get closer to my heat.

he licks my pussy so gently. treating me kindly before torturing my clit with his tongue. it didnt last long before his face is fully submerged into my cunt, tongue-fucking so hard my moans are uncontrollable. i was so horny i was about to explode and release everywhere. i could feel my orgasm creeping up on me, inching closer by the second. “fuck matt dont stop ur gonna make me cum!” his tongue somehow goes further into me and his nose is rubbing against my clit.

*BZZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZZ*

*incoming call from nick*

“FUCK!” we both say while moaning. “dont make a fucking sound got it?” i nod innocently while trying not to moan. “what do you want?” matt answers in an annoyed tone. “where the fuck are you its almost 2am?!” nick says concerned. matt plunging his fingers deep inside of me while on the phone. “i know we’re on our way back right now chill out”. “what the fuck is up with you? whatever, me and chris want to show you something”. matts fingers increase speed driving me absolutely crazy while his cold rings hit against my skin. i break a little and a few quiet moans manage to escape my desperate mouth. “we’ll be home in like 10 minutes” “okay hurry” *matt hangs up*

matt now pushing full force into my pussy with his glistening fingers. “i tell you one thing and you cant even fucking obey” “do you want me to have to punish you when we get back to the house?” “im sorry i cant help it daddy! you make me feel so good” i said while moaning. matt steps on the gas and speeds the whole way home, still fingering you at full force. “FUCK MATT IM GONNA CUM!” he ignores me out of anger. “MAAATTTTTT” i said whining in a high pitch voice. he looks over at me and i release all over his fingers, earning loud groans from him as he sucks my juices off of his fingers.

🔗

HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST SMUT THAT IVE EVER WROTE💀IDEK WHAT POINT OF VIEW ITS IN😭 anyways i hope someone sees this and enjoys it. lmk if u want more😖