#i have been sitting on this for so long and i still didn't properly finish it but w/e LMAO

[solarsturniolo]

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: in which Matt is failing his classes and at risk of having to repeat the semester, and his tutor is the reason behind it.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗: This is a collaborative story that me and another person started on, but I was given permission to edit and continue it, and I am in charge of it now :) All characters in this story are of age. None of the characters are minors. All previous parts are linked beneath the word count.

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: cursing / smut / switch!matt / switch!fem reader / male masturbation / wet dreams / use of good boy / virgin!matt / p in v / oral (fem receiving) / oral (male receiving) / overstimulation / breeding kink / praise kink / mommy kink / scenes mentioning anxiety

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 8145

Previous parts: Intro / One / Two / Three / Four

X O X O X O

No lights glowed outside as Matt slowed to a stop, gravel crunching under the van tires. The house seemed empty and devoid of life. He opened his phone and checked the message again - 1209 Cherokee Parks - I’m in the right place…

She started typing and his breath hitched in his throat. Does she know that I’m here? How could she know that? Was she watching for me? Waiting for me??

Come around the back it’s unlocked. 

His heart thundered as Matt turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, pressing the button on his key fob, the car chirping in the silence that surrounded the neighborhood like a cozy blanket on a cool evening. He flinched, the sound breaking that silence, and he made a beeline for her house, or more so the shadows to keep from linking himself to the late night disturbance. A privacy fence ran the length of the sidewalk but it didn’t take him long to find the gate, and less time to slip through it, the rusty hinges groaning softly as he pushed the wooden door open. He made sure to secure the door shut, taking the time to lock it properly.  

“Get inside.”

He jolted, whipping around to meet her face to face, but his heart thundered as all he was met with was the eerie shadows of the night. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, terrified by the voice from the darkness. She stepped out of a shadowed doorway and tilted her head inward. “Come on.” The moonlight glimmered in her eyes, her hair reflecting beams of hazy gray light. Her face held no emotion, and Matt swallowed. He was in a lot of trouble, and he knew it. 

Matt obeyed, silent as the grave. How do you apologize to someone for…what I did? ‘Hey sorry I’m a horny freak with zero self-control, hope we can still be friends so my grades don’t plummet and my life doesn’t blow up in flames’. As he silently monologued, she led him through a maze of hallways and furniture, graceful and careless all at once. She stepped through a door, ushered him in, and closed it behind her. Matt realized three fundamental truths simultaneously.

One, he was in her bedroom. Two, she was in her bedroom. And the most important of the three, she and Matt were in her bedroom at the exact same time. Together.

This was an illuminating half-second for Matthew Bernard Sturniolo.

Looking around her room, Matt’s eyes flickered between the butterfly tapestries, pulled straight from a fantasy, to a basket of laundry on the floor. A pair of panties lay atop it, pink and soft-looking. What material is that? Silk? Matt blushed a deep shade of embarrassed, but she didn't even notice. “Sit,” she said, settling on the bed and opening her laptop. “Work.”

Matt took a deep breath. “Please, I’m so-”

“Finish your paper. Then talk.”

Matt knew there was only one option. He logged into his Google account on her laptop, pulling up the google doc that he had spent the past week working on. It should have been completed hours earlier, with her sitting across from him or even possibly beside him, laughing at something stupid he had said. But instead she stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, an unimpressed look on her face. Matt’s stomach twisted up, an ache growing in his side. He got right to work, not wanting to waste a single second. Each moment he had right now was precious. And every moment that he could save by bullshitting the rest of his paper, meant more time being spent on her. Apologizing to her. Begging for her forgiveness. Pleading for her to give him one more chance. To prove that he wasn’t this perverted creep with no self control…

The minutes passed quietly, with her music playing somewhere in the background. He liked her taste - a mix of artists he enjoyed and music he’d never heard, but liked in the moment. He wanted to ask if he could download one of her playlists. He figured that could be a conversation for later.

 She got up at one point to let her cat in, and Matt paused for a moment to reach out a hand. With signature feline airs, the animal ignored him completely, her fabulously fluffy tail flicking at him as she turned away from him. The cat rubbed up against her ankle, meowing softly. Shrugging, he returned to his paper. Matt’s focus kept slipping, but the desperate need to explain himself—to somehow apologize to her—pushed him on. Within the hour, he’d cobbled together something vaguely resembling an essay, or at least a rambling apology wrapped in questionable punctuation.

“Okay, I’m done.” Matt leaned back, straightening out of the hunch he’d assumed.

She beckoned with her hand, and he bashfully passed the laptop to her, remembering how this very same interaction had played out mere hours before. If she recalled anything similar, she didn’t show it. She read over his essay in total silence. 

With nothing to occupy his brain, Matt looked quietly around the room once more. Fucking laundry basket, he growled inwardly, trying his damndest to avoid even a glimpse at the underwear lying atop it. What does it look like on her? Does it go up to her waist on the edges or does it sit right on the side of her hips? His cock stiffened at almost the speed of light, and Matt grasped the nearby pillow, subtly moving it to his lap. The brisk friction caused a jolt of pleasure to burst through his synapses, and he mentally cursed himself for choosing to wear sweatpants. The first rule in the goddamn book: NEVER wear sweatpants unless you know they’re coming off. He pressed the cushion down with a little more force, desperate to conceal his, now fully loaded, weapon. 

She reached the end of his work and gave a nod. “It’s fine.” Her tone was unimpressed. Almost…bored?

“Okay. I mean, is there anything I need to-”

“Get up.”

“Huh?”

“Up.” She waved once with her hand, brows raised in dawning incredulity.

Matt hesitated, his fingers clenching around the frilly pink pillowcase. He laughed nervously, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

“I really don’t think you want that…”

He smoothed out his shirt, nervous energy sparking through him - he wondered what in the world she was doing. He refused to meet her gaze, already knowing that his cheeks were the same bright red as the tip of his aching cock. Humiliation swirled around him, and Matt began to drown in it.

“Matt,” she warned.

Matt finally looked at her and he sighed. He shoved his hands into his pockets, adjusting himself subtly, before standing up and looking at her, shame written across his face. He knew what was coming, and he needed to brace himself for it.

Here it comes. ‘Matt, you’re a disgusting perverted creep and I never want to see you again. I told everyone what you did, and everyone else thinks you’re a gross hormonal pig too. You should look into being homeschooled, it’s not like you’ll be making it to graduation with your grades anyways.’ 

She took a deep breath and began to speak. “You freaked me out today. I wasn’t expecting to see porn on your laptop, much less porn like... that. I mean, everyone has their own tastes but I just…didn’t expect that from you.” She rambled, running her fingers through her hair, a rosy tint rising to her cheeks. 

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed what she had said, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in his stomach. “You had expectations about the porn I like?”

Strangely, she began to stumble over her words, the blush deepening in her soft skin. “N-No, I just- I just meant that-”

Matt interrupted her abruptly. “Listen, I’m really sorry that I made you uncomfortable, I seriously didn’t mean to, I want to keep my grades up so I graduate on time, and I just-” he sighed. “I’ve been under a lot of pressure, I keep beating myself up over every little thing I do, because all I keep doing is messing things up. I never wanted to put you in that position, I feel like a fucking pervert, I know how uncomfortable it made you and I’m so-”

She cut him off with a series of words that stunned him into speechlessness. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. You made me curious.”

Matt blinked. She continued.

Her fingers began to fiddle with her hair, twisting it around before inevitably untwisting it. “I’ve never met a guy that watches porn like that… usually they just want…I dunno…crazy stuff,” she said, moving her laptop to the other side of the bed, allowing her to sit down on her bed. Her eyes never left him, staring straight through him. She licked her lips slowly, Matt was almost sure she was doing it on purpose, and his dick twitched in his pants. He prayed that she hadn’t been able to see it. Her gaze finally released him, her eyes now admiring the elaborate pattern of pinks and whites on her bedding, her fingers toying with the pillowcase that Matt had previously been using. Her eyelashes fluttered, and suddenly her eyes met his again. “But now there’s some stuff I wanna try.”

Matt choked on nothing but the air in his lungs, his breath catching like it had betrayed him. He took a step back without meaning to, as if distance might shield him from whatever this was—this impossible kindness radiating off her like sunlight on a grave.

This is a trap. You know it’s a trap. No sane person would act like this—not after what he did. Not after the damage he left behind. She should be furious. She should be a storm. She should be tearing into him with words sharpened by rage, calling him names he wouldn’t even contest. He wants that—no, he needs it. He needs her hatred to make sense of his guilt; needs her cruelty to validate the punishment he’s already been living on a loop in his mind.

She should be shouting while he drops to his knees, not in some grand gesture, but because the weight of his shame makes standing feel dishonest. She should mock him while he agrees with every insult, letting her reduce him, rename him, strip him of even the illusion of redemption. He would take it—gladly, greedily—because maybe then he could believe there’s still a chance to make things right. Maybe then, her disgust would feel like attention. Maybe then, he could stop trying to claw his way back into her life through every waking thought.

But instead, she stood there—calm, composed, unreadable—and it terrified him. Because kindness felt like a trick. Forgiveness felt like a lie. And worst of all, some pathetic part of him still hoped it wasn’t.

Her voice sliced clean through the noise in his head. “Apologize to me, Matthew,” she said, softly—almost tenderly. Her lashes lowered, veiling her eyes like she already knew exactly how this would go. “Apologize, and do it properly.”

The calm in her voice wasn't mercy—it was precision. She didn’t need to raise her voice. He was already unraveling, and she was offering him the privilege of obedience. Her gentleness wasn’t forgiveness; it was power wrapped in silk, and he felt it coil around his throat like a ribbon.

Matt didn’t want to believe his ears. He must have misheard her—twisted her words into something they weren’t, something he wanted too badly to trust. She couldn’t have meant what he thought she meant. No. Impossible. This had to be a test. A cruel, careful test. She wanted him to prove himself—to piece back together what he’d shattered. That was all this was. It had to be.

Because the alternative made no sense. Because the alternative terrified him. Because in what universe would she still want him?

And yet, even as doubt gnawed at his mind, she kept looking up at him—silent, composed, unblinking. Her lashes cast delicate shadows across her cheeks, and her fingers toyed absently with the frilled edge of the pillowcase, twisting it with a slowness that felt almost rehearsed. Purposeful. Effortlessly cruel.

She didn’t need to speak again. Her eyes said everything: she knew. She knew he was already unraveling. She knew she had him. And worst of all—she knew he would give her whatever she asked.

Because he was hers. Not in some romantic, poetic way, but in the raw, desperate sense of a man who had already surrendered, clinging to the hope that his suffering might somehow still earn him a place beside her again.

At her feet, if that’s where she wanted him.

His throat constricted painfully, a ragged, desperate gulp tearing free like a silent scream trapped inside him. The weight of her seriousness crashed into him with the force of a tidal wave, relentless and inescapable, washing away every fragile hope he’d built. She was serious. Dead serious. “Yes, ma’am,” he croaked, voice cracking under the unbearable pressure, knees shaking like fragile glass ready to shatter beneath his weight. Each trembling step toward the bed was a surrender, a leaf caught in a storm, drawn irresistibly closer to the fierce eye of the hurricane—her.

Slowly—agonizingly slowly—he sank to his knees, eyes locked fiercely on hers, drinking in every flicker, every shadow, as if tracing constellations in the dark expanse of her soul. His lips parted just enough to steal in a breath, fragile and trembling, like a moth hovering at the edge of a flame, knowing full well the danger but unable to pull away. His entire body was a live wire of longing and reverence, humming with the electric ache of finally standing—or rather kneeling—before the sun that had burned its mark into his heart.

His heart thundered so loud it threatened to burst through his ribs, pounding out a frantic rhythm like war drums signaling surrender and devotion all at once. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this moment would come—never thought she’d glance his way, let alone allow him to be this close, kneeling here like a pilgrim before a cathedral of light and shadow. His pulse hammered in his ears as every breath he took was a prayer, every inch of him aching to dissolve into her gravity, to be swallowed whole by the orbit of her presence.

He steadied his breath, forcing himself to meet her gaze through thick lashes, the air between them crackling like charged lightning—an invisible current pulling him deeper into her spell. And then, voice raw and trembling, he whispered, “Is it okay if I…”

“If you what?” Her smile bloomed slow and lethal, but all Matt could feel was the wildfire raging inside him—an uncontrollable blaze that scorched reason and left only raw nerves exposed. His heart was a cage of frantic wings beating against bone, desperate to escape but trapped by the weight of everything he wanted and feared. Her voice—soft, teasing—cut through the storm in his chest like a blade, leaving him shattered and aching in its wake.

His cheeks burned with a shame so fierce it threatened to drown him, a shame tangled with a desperate hunger he barely understood himself. Every glance she cast his way was a flame that stripped him bare, exposing all the cracks he’d hidden beneath layers of doubt and guarded hope. He was caught in the pull of her gravity—helpless, unraveling, utterly undone—each heartbeat a battle between longing and fear, between wanting to rise and knowing he could only fall.

He knelt there, trembling beneath her gaze, lost in the chaos of his own making—an electric storm of need and vulnerability, worship and self-doubt, burning brighter than he could bear. And in that silence thick with unspoken truths, he realized he was no longer in control. She was the storm, and he was nothing but a broken soul willing to be swallowed whole.

“If I touch you,” he whispered. “Please let me make it up to you.”

The words clawed their way out of him, trembling and torn from someplace deep—deeper than longing, deeper than shame. It wasn’t just a plea. It was surrender. His voice shook with the weight of it, with the frantic need coiled so tight inside his chest it felt like it might break him open. He didn’t know if he wanted forgiveness or punishment—only her. Only her.

She smiled, her eyes glistening with a devilish gleam.

Slow, deliberate, dangerous. That grin carved into him like a blade dipped in honey. She reached for him, and when her hand touched his cheek, it was like setting fire to an already scorched earth. He leaned into it with a reverence so desperate it bordered on madness. His breath stuttered, eyes wide and drowning in the sight of her. She was everything—salvation, damnation, and the space in between.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” she murmured, and the sound of it, that voice—warm and wicked, sweet like poison—had his stomach knotting, coiling tighter with every word. It wasn’t just praise. It was control wrapped in silk. It was a chain he didn’t want to break.

“Go ahead,” she allowed.

Her fingers trailed down beneath his chin, light as silk and twice as devastating. It wasn’t just her touch he craved; it was what it meant. It was permission. It was presence. It was power—and he would have followed it into the dark. Her gentle fingers traced his jaw, soft and lingering, like a promise he hadn’t earned. As her hand began to pull away, he followed without thinking, like gravity itself was tied to her skin. His head moved with her hand, desperate not to lose contact, like she was the only real thing keeping him tethered to this earth. Her touch was oxygen, and without it, he was already starving. Matt whimpered.

X O X O X O

With both hands, he took reverent hold of her calves and pressed his forehead to her knees, panting. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing the soft skin on the inside of her legs, “I’m so sorry.” Shame flooded his cheeks, but it was a distant thing now—drowned beneath the urgency of his need. His mouth was reverent, desperate, moving over her skin in slow, trembling strokes like he could write a liturgy there with kisses. Every breath he drew was an invocation. Every exhale, a confession.

And she laid there, silent. Watching. Not stopping him. Her fingers twitched at her sides but didn’t move. Her throat bobbed, once, like she’d swallowed something heavy, and her breath caught in the back of it. She should have told him to get up. She should never have put him in this position, where he felt guilted into begging for her forgiveness. But those sudden realizations were worthless.

Because somewhere in the darkest corner of her heart, where no light ever touched, she liked it. Needed it. Needed him like this—ruined for her. She liked the way he trembled. The way he crumbled. The way he clung to her like salvation with a heartbeat.

He knew it was wrong. So wrong. To adore her like this—like a deity, like damnation in a dress. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to. She was the sin he chose every time. The altar he bled on. The fire he walked into with open arms.

Unbeknownst to Matt, the woman before him used every single iota of self-control she possessed to restrain herself. He carried on with his adulation, nosing the space behind her knees, where her thighs tapered down into slender calves, gentle lingering kisses brushing across her soft skin, holding her leg with sweetened hands. 

“What are you sorry for?” She murmured, remembering her place in the current dynamic. In control. She would not let him take control. He had a lesson to learn, after all. 

Matt looked up, eyes wide and wet with pleading, and the fluttering in her gut turned violent. “I freaked you out,” he whispered, forehead pressing against her leg as if seeking absolution through skin-to-skin contact. “I—I didn’t mean to. I left it open—on my laptop—I didn’t think you’d see—” His voice cracked, hands trembling. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He breathed the apology like it hurt to say, like it was being torn from him.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, swallowing a groan. Was he trying to destroy her?

Then his lips were climbing higher, kissing a slow, fervent path up the inside of her thigh, curls tickling the other leg with maddening softness. “I won’t do it again. I swear,” he murmured, frantic now. “Just don’t give up on me, please. Don’t walk away. Don’t leave me—please…”

She stayed silent—because if she spoke, she’d break.

He shifted to her other leg like it was sacred, leaving heated, trembling kisses in his wake. His breath shuddered across her skin, turning warmth into goosebumps, into want. “Please,” he begged, forehead pressed to her shin now, his voice fraying at the edges. “I can’t lose this. I need this. I need you. I’m trying—I’m trying so hard, but my brain just won’t shut up, it’s always spinning and buzzing and—and every time that I see you, I just…” he breathed out, his hands growing clammy as the heat radiated off of him and melted into her skin. “I get so distracted…”

He broke off, panting, lost in it.

She watched, breath caught somewhere in her chest, as he clutched her leg like a lifeline. His hands, gentle and sweetened with guilt, clung to her leg like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“Distracted by what, Matthew?” she asked finally, her voice sharp yet sweet. 

His eyes fluttered open, glassy and frantic, and the way he looked at her—like she was salvation and punishment all in one—made her knees ache to give way.

He gulped. “You.”

She hissed—a sharp sound of warning—and shoved him back. The contact was light, but to Matt it landed like a blow. His hands fell away from her skin, trembling and empty. His chest constricted painfully, heart shriveling as though she'd torn it straight out with that single gesture. He stared up at her, stunned, breath frozen.

Then she moved.

It took him a beat to realize what was happening—her fingers sliding down to her waistband, pushing her pants over her hips with a smooth, measured finality that made his vision blur. He barely had time to think. Instinct seized him.

His hands flew to help, yanking the fabric the rest of the way down with a frantic reverence, like it was holy cloth he had no right to touch. His breath came in ragged, gasping waves, chest rising and falling as if he’d been underwater for minutes.

Then—skin.

Bare. Warm. Real.

“Please,” he whispered, voice cracked and breathless. “Please, please… please get on the bed. I’ll make you feel good, I swear—I need to, I need to—please let me, let me—” His hands cradled her waist as if she was the most fragile thing in the world. 

He kissed her skin with trembling lips, frantic, hungry, worshipful. His words spilled in a feverish rush, barely coherent between kisses: “I’ll be so good—I’ll take care of you—fuck, just let me—I’ll ruin you right, make you forget every second you were mad at me—please please please…”

He was shaking. Not from fear—but from pure, unbearable longing.

“I can’t—” he choked, breath stuttering. “I can’t think when you’re like this, I can’t breathe—please just let me have you, let me show you—anything, anything you want—I’ll crawl, I’ll beg, I’ll break, just say it, please…”

He clung to her like a man unraveling, burying his face in her skin, like he could inhale her, drown in her, cease to exist and call it peace.

She was already scrambling backward across the bed, breath ragged, lips parted with aching need.

“Apologize, pretty boy.”

The words struck him like lightning—commanding, sharp, and so goddamn hot it nearly undid him.

Matt climbed onto the mattress with no grace, no hesitation, crawling after her like he was starving. His hands found her thighs, spreading them open with trembling reverence, his chest sinking between them as he laid himself low—offered himself.

A strangled whine tore from his throat, desperate and raw. “Come here,” he breathed, almost pleading, voice thick with worship and ache.

His fingers slipped under the waistband of her dark blue thong—so soft, so unfairly pretty—and he dragged the delicate fabric down her hips, over her thighs, past her knees, all the way to her ankles. He let it fall to the floor like it was nothing—because compared to her, it was nothing. Everything else blurred into irrelevance the moment she was bare before him.

And then he saw her.

The breath left his lungs in a single, broken sound.

Glistening pink, folds slick with arousal, her wetness catching the light as it shimmered between her thighs. Matt’s vision blurred. His throat closed. He blinked once, twice—trying to convince himself this was real. That this was for him. That she was for him.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

Not in dreams. Not in fantasies. Nothing he’d imagined came close to the aching perfection of her, wet and open and wanting.

She gasped, a noise of surprise getting caught in her throat as Matt’s strong hands grasped the underside of her thighs, yanking her closer towards him. His patience had fled in mere seconds, he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to taste her. Even if it was the last thing to find itself on his tongue, he would have died a happy man. 

He couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth—not when she threw her head back into the pillow like that, not when her fingers tangled deep in his chestnut curls, clutching him like she needed something to anchor her to this plane of reality. His breath trembled in his chest, heart stuttering hard against his ribs as her hips jolted upward, chasing the heat of his breath like it was the only air she could breathe.

He blinked once, dazed, then leaned in—lips pursed—exhaling deliberately over her soaked heat again, just to feel her react. Another buck of her hips. Another desperate twist of her fingers in his hair.

“God, please don’t tease—”

Her voice. That voice.

It cracked something inside him.

His head spun, the sound of her plea short-circuiting every thought in his mind until all that remained was need.

He didn't waste another second. The space between them disappeared in a heartbeat as he leaned in, cradling her thighs with care, reverence. Her arousal painted the inside of her thighs, shining in the low light, folds swollen and pink and perfect. He blinked, dizzy with need, and then dropped lower—his chest flat against the bed, his arms hooked tightly under her thighs like she might vanish if he let go. He dragged her closer, as close as he could get her, nose brushing the soft, swollen heat of her folds.

His tongue pressed flat against her slick, swollen folds, and the world simply vanished.

A deep, guttural moan rumbled from his chest, half-broken by how overwhelmed he felt. Her taste—God—her taste was everything. She wasn’t sweet like candy; no, she was better. She was fresh-cut fruit at a summer cookout—lush, ripe, dripping with juice. The kind that stains your fingers, makes you greedy. The kind you go back for again and again and again.

Seconds. Thirds. Fourths. Forever.

He groaned against her, tongue gliding slowly, purposefully, savoring every second like she was the only thing that had ever mattered. His self-control unraveled, thread by thread, lost to the way she trembled under his mouth.

He lapped at her with aching tenderness, every motion an offering. A devotion. A promise.

He wasn’t here just to make her feel good.

He was here to worship.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me. You don’t know—fuck—how long I’ve wanted this, how many nights I’ve thought about this, about you.”

Another moan. Another flick of his tongue. Her taste spread across his tongue like it belonged there.

His eyes fluttered shut. His hips ground helplessly into the mattress as he worshipped her. Every sound she made, every twitch of her thighs, every tremble in her breath—it was breaking him down, reshaping him into something new.

Something hers.

Matt’s mouth was everywhere—open and eager, sucking gently on her skin like he could draw her pleasure straight into his bloodstream. He moaned into her flesh, every sound raw, needy, helpless. He didn’t know where his body ended and hers began. Didn’t want to. He was lost in her, in the warmth of her thighs, the scent of her arousal, the pulse he felt with his lips and tongue and fingers.

His hand slid away from her thigh, shaking slightly, and found its way between her legs—fingertips brushing over her slick heat in slow, reverent circles. She was wet. Dripping. Not just a little. She was soaking. For him. The realization hit him so hard he almost forgot to breathe.

Matt gasped softly, grinding his hips into the mattress below in helpless rhythm. He couldn’t stop it. His body was responding to hers like a tether had been tied between them—his pleasure directly bound to hers. But this wasn’t about him. It never was.

Every moan that spilled from her lips, every small twitch of her hips, every broken sound she tried—and failed—to bite back, lit his nerves on fire. He knew the sounds women made when they were pretending. He knew what it looked like when it was performative, for show, for ego. This wasn’t that.

This was real.

She was coming apart for him. And it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed.

His eyes flicked up to the bedspread beneath her—soft pink, patterned with bows and cherries—and the sight nearly undid him. The fabric was already darkening beneath her, soaked with her need, a testament to what he was doing to her. What she was letting him do. And Matt thought: Nothing in the world could ever be more sacred than this.

More sure now, more devoted, he let his jaw go slack and buried himself between her thighs. His tongue moved with purpose, no longer timid—worshipping her with every stroke, every flick, every trembling kiss. He kissed like it was prayer. He licked like it was penance. He moaned like he could cry, overcome by the taste of her, the heat of her, the knowledge that she was letting him do this.

Her gasp shattered the air between them like glass.

His entire body froze, then shivered in reaction.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked and low, his hands tightening against her hips, holding her like she might disappear. “I’ll do this all night if you keep soundin’ like that…”

He meant it. God, he meant it.

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked, and Matt whimpered—not from pain, but from pure, unfiltered need. He would’ve thanked her for it. Begged for more. There was nothing she could do to him that he wouldn’t want, as long as it came from her.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, grinding her hips into his mouth like she was using him—because she was. And he loved it. “Never stop.”

Matt groaned in response—deep and throaty, the sound vibrating directly against her clit. “Yes ma’am,” he panted, almost frantic. 

He slipped two fingers into her with the softest, most reverent care, and the moment he felt her walls clench around him—tight, warm, pulsing—he nearly sobbed.

His mouth latched back onto her clit, tongue stroking and flicking with a new intensity. Not rough. Never rough. Just intentional. Worshipful. Deliberate. Like he was spelling her name in devotion with every movement.

She tugged harder at his hair and he moaned again, voice broken, almost delirious. If she told him to stay like this forever, he would. If she wanted to leave marks, to scratch, to bruise, he’d take it all with thanks in his mouth.

He was hers.

To use.

To own.

To control.

And she—she was his to worship. His to serve.

Her pleasure was his purpose. Her moans were his reward. Every twitch of her hips, every whimper, every breathless command—it all carved deeper into his soul. He wasn’t just making love to her with his mouth and hands.

He was offering himself.

And he hoped, desperately, wildly, that she’d never stop taking.

She writhed beneath him, breath catching in broken gasps, and something in Matt fractured. It wasn’t just need anymore— this was pure, unfiltered obsession. His hands slid up her thighs, not to roam, but to anchor—to bind her to him, to hold her in place like he was terrified she might vanish. And maybe he was. Her body trembled against his, and instead of letting it pull him back, he held firm. Made her feel every moment of what he offered, every movement a wordless plea: stay. feel. don’t leave me.His chest burned. The aching, terrifying sense that if he let go of her for even a second, he might fall apart entirely. As much as she tried to move, he held her still, making her feel every second of pleasure that he offered to her. Every deliberate and direct flick of his tongue over her sensitive bundle of nerves had heavenly sounds pouring out of her, a fountain of praise spilling from her lips in sickly sweet mewls. Each whimper that escaped her lips carved itself into him like scripture.

His breath caught as he pressed his forehead into her, as though seeking absolution. “God…” he muttered into the hush between her sounds, his voice trembling with awe, like her pleasure was something holy and he was barely worthy of witnessing it. He opened his eyes and looked up at her—this sacred, luminous thing sprawled before him—and something broke open in his chest. His gaze flickered down, taking in the sight of her beautiful temple before him. A sacred thing that was, at least for now, in this moment, all for him. This is what worship feels like.

She whined, a sound so beautiful and light that it made Matt feel like he was floating. She could ask anything of him in that moment, and he would do it without thought. Tear open chest and snap off each individual rib. Offer up his soul. Disappear, if she willed it. His fingers gripped onto her thighs as if he was afraid he’d be torn from her in seconds. His tongue traced patterns over her sensitive clit, hymns and prayers of praise and worship soaking into her. She let out a gasp, a broken cry, a moan that had his bones aching, his body trembling. “Don’t stop - God, please… don’t s-stop-” she choked out, her back arching off of her soft pink sheets. She tried to move her legs, to wrap them around him and pull him impossibly closer, but he kept her thighs tightly pinned down to the mattress. “Oh my god, Matt-” she panted. 

He heard it again—his name, soft and soaked with breath—and it nearly undid him. She had said it before, countless times. But now it was different. Now it was a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, and he clung to it with everything he had. A sound had never shaken him to his core quite like she managed to do so effortlessly. He gripped her thighs tighter—not to restrain her, but to steady himself. To hold onto the edges of this moment before it passed. His whole world had narrowed down to the sound of her voice, the curve of her body, the way she clung to him like he mattered. Like he was all that she needed.

Her release was building—he could feel it in every inch of her, like a tide swelling under the surface. Her stomach tightened beneath his hands, her breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts, and her entire body began to tremble with anticipation. She was unraveling, coming apart—and taking him with her.

Matt’s pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything except her. The way she clenched around him, as though her body was trying to hold onto him, to keep him inside her orbit, to refuse the very idea of distance between them. He wasn’t just touching her—he was being taken in. Consumed.

He let out a shaky exhale, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the realization hit him: she was swallowing him whole—not just in body, but in soul. He was disappearing into her, cell by cell, thought by thought, until there was nothing left of him that hadn’t been reshaped by her.

He no longer knew where he ended and she began.

The connection was more than physical—it was existential. His identity, once something he held onto so tightly, now slipped away like sand through trembling fingers. All he could feel was her. All he wanted to be was hers. To be absorbed into her completely, like he was meant to be nothing but a part of her design.

She was rising—he could feel it in the air, in the rhythm of her breath, in the way her body pulled tighter around him like a fist made of silk. His chest ached with something greater than need. It was reverence. As if her climax was a sacred rite and he, trembling and overwhelmed, was the willing sacrifice.

“Please…” he whispered, forehead resting against her. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Her release. Her grace. Her forgiveness. To be allowed to stay in this moment just a little longer, before the universe pulled him away from her.

And when she finally shattered, he felt it as though it happened inside him. Like her pleasure had cracked something in his soul wide open—and he welcomed it. Gladly.

Because to be undone by her was the only way he ever wanted to fall apart.

When her body collapsed beneath him, still trembling with the echoes of release, Matt rose slowly—like surfacing from deep water, breathless and disoriented. He kissed her thighs, her hips, her stomach, reverently, his lips soft and wet with the taste of her. Each kiss was a quiet benediction, a whispered thank-you pressed into skin.

She lay still, panting, her gaze unfocused and pinned to the ceiling like she was somewhere far from the world. Something in Matt’s chest twisted painfully. Was she okay? Did she regret this? Had he gone too far? His heart lurched and tumbled downward, helpless and heavy.

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice thin and unsteady, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned over her.

She blinked, then smiled—soft and dazed, still catching her breath. “I’m great.”

Relief hit him like a wave. His body sagged with it, and he let himself fold downward, resting his head on her stomach like it was the only place he belonged. His arms wrapped around her, holding her like something fragile, like if he didn’t ground her with his touch she might drift away into the ether.

He didn’t want to let go. Not now. Not ever.

There was no lust in the way he clung to her now—only reverence. A quiet, aching sort of awe. As if this moment had redefined something fundamental in him. She had opened herself to him, let him see her undone, vulnerable, divine—and now he couldn’t remember how he’d ever existed apart from her.

Matt closed his eyes, pressing his ear to the soft rise and fall of her breath. If he could, he would have crawled inside that rhythm and stayed there forever. Not to take anything more—but just to be. Near her. Part of her. Anchored in her gravity.

He didn’t say a word. There was nothing to say. She had already given him more than language could ever hold.

X O X O X O

Matt traced slow, reverent circles on her skin, his thumb trembling with every pass. His breathing was uneven — shallow, restless — and not from exertion. It was the ache. The ache of being so close, of giving so much of himself and still wanting to give more. His arousal throbbed beneath the thin fabric of his sweatpants, but he said nothing. He wouldn’t ruin this. Not with need. Not when she was letting him stay. Not when he felt, somehow, like he belonged.

Her fingers brushed through his hair again — slow, rhythmic strokes that scratched gently at the nape of his neck, a place no one had ever touched with this kind of... claim. A shiver rolled through him, full-body and involuntary.

She noticed. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” Her voice was soft, not mocking, but curious — like she was peeling back another layer just to see him.

“I’m... I’m sensitive,” Matt whispered, hiding his face in the crook of her waist. The confession made him burn from the inside out.

“Oh yeah?” She almost hummed the words, the noise vibrating through her ribcage.

Matt nodded, a little breathless.

“Roll over.”

His head shot up. How am I supposed to hide this fucking boner now?

“Strike one,” she said, her voice hardening with each word. “Roll. Over.”

“Yes ma’am.” Matt’s brain tangled up into itself, and he scrambled awkwardly to obey, lifting his hips so she could see the shape of him, hard and helpless beneath stretched fabric. There was no hiding now. The gray sweats betrayed everything — the way his body pulsed with need, the way his mind unraveled the moment she spoke to him like that.

“Oh, Matty...” she sighed, her fingers ghosting over his thigh. “You’re aching, aren’t you?”

He swallowed. “...Yeah.”

When her hand brushed lightly over the front of his boxers, Matt gasped, hips twitching toward her. “God... that feels so good,” he breathed, voice cracking.

She worked slowly, tracing the outline of him with intention, watching every twitch of muscle, every flutter of his lashes. Matt was barely holding it together. His fingers gripped the sheets at his sides like they were the only things keeping him tethered to the earth.

“You're shaking,” she observed softly.

“I... I can’t—” he tried, voice breaking. “I just... I want you so much. I need to be good for you. Please tell me what to do.”

She paused, watching his chest heave, his face flushed and open like never before. There was no ego here. No control. Just Matt — raw, exposed, and aching to please.

“Then listen,” she said gently. “Be still. Breathe. Let me take care of you.”

And he did. Because in that moment, Matt wasn't afraid of submission. He craved it. Not out of weakness, but from the overwhelming desire to be seen, to be wanted, to be enough.

He was hers to guide. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel lost.

She smirked, eyeing Matt like he was her next meal. Like he was a wounded rabbit, cornered by a ravenous wolf. His heart raced in his chest, his body trembled, his breathing became unsteady and scattered. Despite being her prey, Matt had never felt more drawn to someone in his life. He had never felt more safe. “Take them off, baby,” she purred, her tone dripping with venom disguised as something sweet. She licked her lips, slow and deliberate, eyes fixed on him. Matt’s breath hitched. There was something in the way she looked at him—like hunger, but not just for his body. For power. For surrender. For the soft, desperate pulse of his heart beneath her hand.

His legs trembled. His fingers twitched at his sides. He didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“Matthew,” she murmured, her voice dipped in something syrupy and sharp all at once. A coaxing cruelty. A promise. A trap that he wanted—no, needed—to fall into.

Matt didn’t breathe. He just stared, wide-eyed and dazed.

Her voice dropped an octave, velvet wrapped in steel. “Strike two.”

That did it.

Matt’s fingers fumbled and tripped over each other as he desperately tried to loosen the knot in his drawstrings. Once they were undone, Matt met her gaze again, hesitantly pushing his sweatpants down to his knees, blindly kicking them off onto the floor of her bedroom. The tip of his cock peeked out below the faded blue waistband of his boxers, his own arousal oozing from his tip. He looked up at her, awaiting judgment, his chest rising with shallow, uneven breaths. The air between them crackled.

“Good boy,” she whispered, drinking in the immensity with her eyes. Matt’s bulge was prominent, a thick rise with deep valleys on either side. Without thinking, she reached out to touch him. Her thumb brushed over his exposed skin, his body lurching forward involuntarily at the contact. 

Matt’s jaw dropped as his lips parted, letting out a quiet yet delicious, “Ohhh….fuck….” He watched the movements of his lover’s hands with whoreish lust, eyes hooded and dark, chest rising and falling like tumultuous ocean waves as she stroked him over the soft fabric of his underwear. From caressing his tip to using two fingers to apply pressure on both sides as she slid over his length, from base to head, she hunted for which bundle of nerves elicited the best noises out of her toy. As she reached the head of his cock with her thumb and index finger, his chest hollowed out with a powerful exhale. 

She didn’t rush. She studied him—how his body responded, how his breath stuttered, how his eyes flicked upward, pleading for something he couldn’t name. Her fingers moved with purpose, seeking out every place that made him tremble, made him whimper, made him submit.

“You like that, sweet boy?” she murmured.

“Yes,” he gasped, voice thin and desperate. “Yes, I do. Please don’t stop.”

But she did. Just like that.

The silence that followed was deafening. He twitched, hips shifting forward helplessly, as though his body refused to accept the absence of her touch.

“No, please—Mommy, I’ll be good, I’ll be so—”

Silence fell like glass shattering.

Matt froze. The word had slipped out of him like breath, like instinct. And now it sat between them, shimmering and dangerous.

He reeled back in horror, eyes wide, fumbling for his clothes as if shame might be something he could cover. “I-I’m sorry—God, I didn’t mean to— I, I can go, fuck, where’s my-”

“Matt.”

“-never do that again, I’m so sorry, I need my pants, where the hell-”

“Matty.”

“-did they go, oh here they are, I-”

“Matthew.”

Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. It cut through his panic like a hot blade.

He stilled, one leg in his sweatpants, his chest heaving.

She tilted her head slightly, the air around her shifting. Gone was the teasing smile, the playfulness — in its place was stillness, something sharp and commanding behind her eyes. “Did I say you could leave?” Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t have to.

Matt froze. His breath caught in his throat. That single question struck him harder than any shout could have. He stood half-dressed, trembling, the fabric of his sweatpants tangled around one ankle. Shame and heat rushed through him all at once, but beneath it — or maybe because of it — something deeper unfurled. A kind of devotion that cracked open his ribs and spilled him bare.

He looked down, eyes wide, heart thundering like he’d been caught doing something sacred the wrong way. “No,” he whispered. “You didn’t.”

Her gaze didn’t waver, but it softened. Just enough. Like she knew exactly what she held in her hands — and how carefully it needed to be treated. “Then why are you trying to run, Matthew?”

He couldn’t answer. The knot in his throat was too tight. All he could do was shake his head — once — and step back toward her. He let the last of the fabric fall from his leg with a muted thud, and knelt before her at the foot of the bed. Not out of instruction. Out of instinct.

She reached forward and touched his jaw, tilting his face up to meet her eyes. “You get scared when you feel too much,” she said, so softly it barely carried across the room. “But I already see you. I see all of it.”

Matt’s hands found the edge of the mattress like a lifeline. His whole body was trembling. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he said, almost like a confession. “I’d do anything right now just to stay close to you.”

“Guess you better obey then,” she said quietly.

Matt swallowed. “I guess I better,” he agreed.

X O X O X O

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[everythingne]

little miss wingwoman (3) - ln4

You meet the Norris family, Penelope drops by for a surprise visit, and luckily Christmas Eve goes off without a hitch. Thanks to your amazing skills in everything that comes with being a nanny.

warnings/notes: I, once again, am posting christmas after christmas and i don't care <3 happy hanukkah by the way!! also shout out to my brother who inspired the whole 'athena falling asleep' bit here bc he did this w my baby cousin on christmas eve

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Lando is welcoming in his siblings while you're in the process of finishing up a quick little Christmas Eve dinner. They'd requested nothing crazy, so you'd scoured the internet to find a simple chicken dish, and had Lando go out to buy some games to play with the family. His siblings had all been on the same flight, but with a little rain systems coming through Monaco, his parents flight had been delayed a few hours.

Meaning, you got to be eased into meeting your roommate of barely a weeks family, and spending the holidays with them.

As you finally set down some tin foil over the last few sides, sliding them in the oven on a preheat setting to keep everything warm until Lando's parents arrived, Oliver and Flo poke around the corner to look at you.

You don't notice them studying the way you flow through Lando's kitchen, you're too busy counting over the names Lando had told you--Oliver, Flo, and Cisca, his siblings, you think in that order with Lando ahead of Flo. Then, Savannah, Lando's sister-in-law, and his two nieces Mila and Athena. His parents, Cisca and Adam, though you can't imagine calling them anything other than Mr and Mrs. Norris.

"Oh, guys," Lando's tone is full of smiles, proudly waving an arm to you as you turn around and discard your oven mitts onto the counter, "This is my roommate, Yn."

"Ah!" Oliver smiles, Athena in his hands sraring up at you with wonder in her eyes, "This is the roommate I've heard so much about."

"Oh, god, I hope all good things?" You step around Lando to properly greet each sibling, Savannah, and the girls.

"Lando talks about you a lot." Cisca teases softly, looking over at her brother, who flushed and quickly asked what everyone wanted to drink--safely deterring the conversation. Above everyones scurrying heads into the kitchen, you meet Lando's eyes, and find you can't look away as he crinkles up in a smile before turning to find cups for everyone.

A bit later, Lando runs out to go collect his parents from Nice's airport, leaving you with the siblings. Mila and Athena have taken to exploring the living room under their parents watchful eye as you scour for a good Christmas movie for them--settling on the Grinch after a while, just to have it on in the background. You can tell Athena's getting ready for a nap, but with so much excitement and noise, she seems to be struggling to settle down. Savannah seems a bit flustered, so you take a seat with her on the couch while Flo and Cisca sneak some cookies in the kitchen and gossip.

"So," Oliver starts, "We spent so long catching up with Lando, I never had a chance to ask anything about you."

"Oh, Sorry!" Savannah calls, turning to place a hand on your knee, "Don't want you to feel left out!"

"Don't apologize, it's alright! He's your brother and you said, Savannah, the last time you saw him was Goodwood, which was--what, July?" You say, watching as Cisca and Flo come to the living room, sitting down with their nieces and their toys by the big windows. Savannah offering the girls a thankful smile for taking them off her hands for the time being.

"Yeah, it's been a while." Flo hums, "And Cis and I didn't even see him at Goodwood, we saw him at Silverstone."

"He's so busy with racing, I see why but I still worry for him. He's still just the boy he was when we were young and running amuck through the woods in the middle of nowhere. He had no friends back then, and I worry he isolates himself here too, just blames it on being busy." Oliver leans back, running a hand across his head. You can see the worry for a baby brother he's watched grow clear in his eyes, and Savannah soothes a hand across his shoulders in comfort.

You hum softly, "He's got Max. And Oscar, Charles... Carlos, Alex and George, though I guess George is in London now... a lot of the drivers live close--we actually bought them presents for Christmas. He's got all of Quadrant too."

"And you," Flo prompts, looking up from where Athena tries to grab onto her hair.

"Yeah," you breathe out, turning to Oliver, "And me."

"How'd you meet?" Savannah asks and you smile.

"Max Verstappen, his 'bonus daughter' Penelope is the girl I nanny. I've worked for Kelly since Penelope was maybe three or four months, actually. Just an extra set of hands for her, but now I'm sort of like a housekeep? I watch the apartment when they're gone, cook, clean, help them keep track of everything--the two of them are also so busy." You laugh softly, watching as Athena uses the table to toddle her way over to her parents, Savannah picking up the sleepy toddler and laying her on her chest.

"But, with their baby on the way, the room I was living in is turning into a nursery. They didn't want to move, especially with a whole baby coming, so they helped me find a new place to live. Luckily, I knew Lando... kinda... we never really spoke much before but Penelope adores him so I've been out with Penelope at races or even in Monaco, and run into him."

Savannah watches as Athena scoots out of her hold and climbs across the couch, the curious toddler now taking up space in your lap as you wrap up your explanation, and a place a hand on her back, "So, Lando let me move in. I've pretty much transformed his entire apartment in exchange for the rent he's covering for me."

"I was going to say, it looks a lot better than the last time I was here." Oliver chuckles, Savannah countering with, "Yes, it does. A woman's touch was needed for sure."

"Lando kept asking us all about how to live with a girl," Cisca looks over her shoulder, watching as Flo and Mila move to join you on the couch. Little Athena snuggling into the warm of your hold as you move back.

"I told him it was just like living with sisters," Oliver rolls his eyes, "but he was insistent there was a way to do it wrong."

You laugh softly, imaging the way that he had probably begged for some sort of advice over the phone with his siblings, gently rocking a fussy Athena--who has been refusing her nap since she'd gotten into the apartment almost two hours ago now.

You speak softly, to keep the girl from waking up as she nearly is sleeping, "There really isn't, and I've been moving around so much my whole life I don't really have a set way to live. I kinda just adapt."

Before you can say anything else, the front door opens, and Lando announces he's back. Savannah lifts Athena, who whines, clinging to your shirt, and you shake her off, "I can take her, if it's okay."

"Sure, if it's fine. I wouldn't wanna wake her so close to her falling asleep. Athena loves to cuddle, she's a clinger," Savannah laughs softly, brushing her daughters wild curly hair back. You nod, holding her the way Savannah instructs--missing when Penelope used to be this tiny in your arms.

Lando's parents--Adam and Cisca, are happily talking with their children when you round the corner into the kitchen. Everyone turns with your presence, smiling at the sight of Athena curled in your arms, Mrs. Norris audibly aweing at the scene as you smile.

"Hi, it's really lovely to meet you both," You say softly, stepping over so they can give you hugs and greet their granddaughter who refuses to come out of the comfort she'd found nestled in your chest.

"I'll get the food out," Lando says, "I imagine you're all starving,"

"God, please." Flo whines, Oliver going to help his brother. You linger with the Norris parents in the hall, smiling softly as Athena lets out little snores against the warm fabric of your sweater. Savannah long gone after being dragged off by Mila.

Mrs. Norris moves into the kitchen, laughing as she scolds her sons for stealing bits of food while they bring everything out. The stack of bags and gifts flow down the hall now, the jackets and shoes overflowing the racks, and you can't help but smile at the liveliness of the once empty apartment.

"You're a real charmer," Adam says after a second and your attention is drawn to Mr. Norris. He grins, "Haven't seen Lando this organized in years."

You laugh softly, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Athena's back, "It's the least I could do for him, considering he won't let me pay rent. He's been really kind to let me live here."

"That's Lando for ya," Adam looks at his son in the kitchen, helping Mila get seated at the table, "He'd give you the skin off his back if he could."

As if sensing you both looking at him, Lando's head perks up, scowling as he comes over. He takes his father's jacket out of his hands and urges him to go get a plate of the food you'd 'slaved over' making all day in the kitchen. You can't help but giggle as he shoos away his father's knowing smile and wave as he goes to join his wife and kids.

"Thanks for saving this whole holiday," Lando looks over at you, catching the way you're already looking at him. A soft smile gracing your lips as you sway the toddler in your arms.

"Your family is lovely," you reply softly, "I'm glad I could do something for them."

Lando's quiet for a moment, the both of you just watching eachother. Turning back when Flo and Cisca start cracking up over some teasing thing Mrs. Norris is saying as Oliver scowls and rebukes whatever she's saying.

"Do you want a plate?" Lando says, "I can get mine last."

"No no, wouldn't want to wake Athena. I can always heat it up after she wakes." You wave a hand, and Lando nods, stepping closer to wipe a crumb off your cheek and brush a piece of hair back into place before Flo calls him over. You wave him on and he goes, making a spectacle about making his way back to the group.

Slowly, you make your way back into the living room, slowly sinking down on the couch and getting comfortable with Athena still snoring in your arms. And as the Norris' carry on in the kitchen, you can help but lay your head back on the cushions, cuddling in to the comfiest position you can find.

You fall asleep around the point Martha May announces her love for the Grinch, and right before Flo brings out Uno for the group at the table to play.

Lando comes over about twenty minutes later, pausing when he sees you knocked out. The rest of the family peeking around the corner as Lando grabs a blanket from the chair in the corner and walks over to where you are--Athena still snuggling into your hold. He gently drapes the blanket over the two of you, grabbing a pillow to lay under your head so your neck isn't killing you in the morning, and just takes a pause to sit next to you.

His eyes travel down your hair, to your closed eyes, parted lips, the soft breaths that leave you. The way Athena has tucked herself against your chest like she just knows you're safety, that you know how to take care of her. He lifts the blanket a little higher, resists the urge to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, and stands.

No one moves fast enough for him to not catch them staring.

"Looked like you were gonna kiss her for a second," His father chimes. Lando feels heat rise to his cheeks as his siblings laugh and he just waves away their comments as he comes back to play the game with them.

When Athena stumbles in to cuddle her mom about thirty minutes later, he peeks out to see you still asleep on the couch and tilts his head. Oliver leaning on the wall leaning into the living room as Lando steps forward, tucks his arms underneath you and carefully lifts you. It's not graceful by any means, but when your eyes flutter and you settle in as he holds his breath, Oliver bites his lip to keep himself from laughing at Lando.

"I'll get the door." Oliver says, nodding his head to where the spare bedroom is. His whole family pretends not to see him nearly whack your head into the wall when he brings you into your room and lays you on the bed. Mrs. Norris does come to ensure her son has you tucked in properly, with the blinds lowered to block out the setting sun as you curl up in your bed.

"Poor thing, she's absolutely knackered." She hums, waving Oliver out of the room as Lando sheepishly rubs his neck, walking over to her.

"She cooked all day, and we've spent the week decorating everything," his voice is soft as he looks over at your sleeping form in the bed, before his mother pulls him out of the room to shut the door.

"Well, she did a wonderful job." She winks knowingly at him, earning a shy laugh from Lando as she brings him back over to the table to keep playing games.

You do manage to get up and freshen up around nine, after his family has left to sleep off their jetlag. Lando's sitting on the couch with--surprisingly to you, Penelope.

"Max dropped her off, he and Kelly have dinner with their parents and P was supposedly exhausted." Lando pokes the girls cheek, but you can see she's clearly wide awake, sheepishly smiling up at you as you chuckle to yourself.

"I'm sure she was," You chime, sitting down at the counter as Penelope climbs up to sit next to you, leaning on you and looking up at you through her long lashes.

"I just didn't wanna go." Penelope admits softly, "All everyone's been talking about is the baby. I don't care about the stupid baby, I wish it was just me again, and I didn't have to fight this little thing in my Mommy's belly for some attention."

You hum, rubbing a hand up and down Penelope's back. She'd been complaining to you about the baby since you'd gotten back to Monaco, and you'd brought it up to Max and Kelly already. From the time spent in their apartment with them, you knew it wasn't their fault Penelope was feeling this way--after her first complaint. They'd both apologized to her, and explained it to her, and after that Penelope had been fine for a while.

But having every single person in your extended family fawning over the unborn baby in your mothers stomach--buying him tons of gifts and clothes, things Penelope was used to be doted onto her, the shift had to feel weird.

"Max and Kelly still love you," it's Lando who chimes from the couch, groaning as he stands up and stretched out his shoulders, "It's been hard for them with the baby coming, and you know how much the baby needs."

Penelope nods and you pout. Usually, Christmas Eve was reserved for the Verstappen-Piquets to spend the entire night together. But it seemed every one of their traditions had been tossed aside.

"How about this," you say softly, "I have some stuff left over to bake. Why don't you, Lando, and I make some cookies for Santa, hm? We can leave them out at your apartment when I drop you off."

Penelope does light up at that and agrees, so as Lando helps her get supplies, you finish shoveling your dinner into your mouth before standing to help them with baking.

By the end of it, after Penelope's roped you and Lando into a flour fight you know is going to be a disaster to clean up, you and Lando end up carrying up a sleeping Penelope and a plate of cookies. Max laughs softly at the sight of the three of you covered in flour, and Kelly thanks you both for staying up later to watch her.

When you return to Lando's apartment, the two of you elect to finish watching whatever movie is playing on the tv. And the quiet moment, broken by occasionally showing each other something on your phones or asking questions about this absolutely absurd 80s christmas movie, just fills the home with a sense of warmth you aren't expecting to feel.

It almost makes you not want to go to bed, but alas, the Norris' are coming back over in the morning, so you two duck off to bed eventually--hesitating to part due to the invisible magnet that holds you close.

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general tag list (open, tagged in all my fics, will not update for this series. If you'd like to be added to my general list FOR this series, let me know and I'll tag you in the comments!

@d3kstar @justalittlejess @tvdtw4ever @llando4norris @daemyratwst @piastri-fvx @sltwins

series specific tag (closed BUT SEE BELOW!!)

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TO BE TAGGED IN COMMENTS OF EACH NEW CHAPTER:

@celestrablack @hadids-world @keij0h @annimausi

(thank you to all the new people (and my return readers ofc), and everyone who has left such kind words!! happy holidays to you all <3)

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Hello, I hope you're fine!! If you are open for requests, how do you think the lads men would react to mc telling them her period is late?

Hii, so sorry for the delay. Uni and work have been crazy and I finally managed to sit down to write

Soo let's start with Zayne. He tracks your period so he knows it's late, hence he doesn't even seem fazed when you burst into his office panicking.

"Yes, 8 days to be exact. You've been under stress these two weeks and don't even eat meals properly. Although, I suggest taking a test and in case of pregnancy I'll schedule and appointment with the gynecologist in our hospital"

You can't help but look at him shocked by his calm demeanour.

"Of course, I would tell all of these 2 days ago if only you didn't ditch our appointment. Now, if you excuse me I have a patient waiting for me in surgery room"

He rose from his chair heading to the door but stopped in front of you.

"I hope you know, in case of pregnancy you don't have anything to worry about"

You just nod your head still dumbfounded and he left the room with a kiss on your forehead.

I imagine Sylus also tracking your period and he wants you to be pregnant so bad. He is the one to tell you that you're pregnant, actually. One night, when you're in the kitchen deciding on late night snack he stands beside you with his arms crossed.

"Your period is late"

He brushes off your question about him tracking your period, instead repeating his statement. You make a mental calculations and just shrug.

"Only by 3 days. It's no big deal"

He clears his throat.

"It might become a big deal. You should take a test just in case"

"It happens sometimes. Like I said, no big deal"

"Take a test, just to be sure"

"First of all it's too early. Second of all, we use protection-"

"We know it doesn't protect 100% of times"

"Oh, stop worrying, will you? I'm not pregnant"

You finally decide on strawberry yogurt.

"I think you are mistaken, sweetie. I do not fret over the possibility of you being pregnant. Quite the opposite, if we are being honest..." he mumbles the last part under his breath but you squint at him.

"Sylus"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you want me to be pregnant or something?"

A small smirk pulls on his mouth

"I am definitely not opposed to the idea"

You shake your head standing on your toes to peck his cheek but he turns his head to kiss you. Even after dating him for so long this small gesture leaves you blushing mess.

"I'll be in our room" you tell him and he nods still with the lovestruck look on his face. Once you leave the room he pinches his nose mumbling about canceling the order of baby-proof items.

Poor Rafayel doesn't know what hit him. Sure he has imagined having a family with you but didn't expect it to be so soon. What do you mean there might be a baby? He's the baby. There's going to be another person you'll love as much as you love him? He has to share now? This can't get worse. And as you look at him nervously he realises you're waiting for his answer.

"Late... okay, cool cool cool...  how late?"

"7 days"

He scoffs as if it's nothing.

"7 days is nothing, right? It's- uh did you take the test?"

"Yes-"

"It's negative, right?"

His hopeful tone makes you scrunch your eyebrows.

"It is" you say hesitantly "but it's still too early to be sure. I'll take another one tomorrow"

"Yeah, of course. Okay"  He seems to calm down

"Umm Rafayel... do you not want me to be-" you clear your throat "what if I'm pregnant?"

It just hit him that he's making this worse for you.

"Oh, cutie. It's not that. I want to have children with you... someday" he avoids your eyes "it's just... yourattentionwouldbeonthemallthetime"

You just give him a look that hints you have no idea what he just said. He sighs, giving up.

"Your attention would be on them and you'll cast me aside and I'm not ready for that" He admits blushing.

"Okay well, if I turn out to be pregnant..." you trail off not knowing, or not wanting, to finish your sentence.

"I'll be there, all the way. That's my kid too, ya know"

You crack a small smile

"You're weird"

"Well, you're not perfect either" he scoffs "nevermind, you are perfect"

You just laugh at him.

Xavier is so confused

"It's late. That's amaaaziiing....lyy bad..?" He tries to construct a sentence based on your expression but fails miserably "can you tell me what that means?"

"Well I don't know. It might be nothing serious but there's a chance I might be pregnant but we always use protection so I don't know how..." You sit with your head in your hands "I'm scared"

Xavier falling silent doesn't help your panic at all.

"Please say something"

"I'm going to be a father?"

You let out a confused laugh.

"I don't know. Probably not, but you might. I have an appointment with doctor Zayne tomorrow so maybe we'll know"

"I'm going to be a father"

You start to think you broke him

"Xavier... we don't know yet"

"Yeah, of course. But I would like to have a child with you"

He closes the distance, placing his hands on your hips

"Do you not want to..."

"I wasn't planning on it yet, but I'm not against it"

He smiles gently.

"Don't get your hopes up yet, though"

"Of course"

But as you leave the room you hear him saying "I'm gonna be a dad" to himself.

One evening, Caleb comes home and lets out a sigh when he enters kitchen.

"Okay, why is the breakfast I made for you still untouched in the refrigerator? We agreed you'd eat meals properly y'know?.. Pipsquak?" He calls out in the end when he receives no answer from you. He finds you in your bedroom sitting on the bed with your knees to your chest.

"What's wrong?" He's alert.

"My period is late"

"Oh my god" He starts laughing sitting beside you and pulling you into a hug. "No wayy, did you take a test? Are we gonna have little you and me running around? I'm definitely teaching them how to shoot a gun"

"Shut up for a minute" you grumble in his chest "I didn't take a test. It's only 5 days, I don't think test would show it if I was pregnant"

"I'll buy them anyway. Bunch of them, so you can take one everyday till it shows positive"

His ridiculous statement pulls a giggle out of you.

"Glad to know you're okay with it"

"Try ecstatic"

You look up at him and spot a mischievous grin on his face.

"You know... you'd be a milf"

That earns a smack on his chest

"Idiot"

"This idiot is going to be a father of your children, so be nice"

"I might not be even pregnant"

"I can take care of that"

He laughs at another smack he receives.

[ohmygraves]

once, you tried to hide from your husband simon.

it wasn't your first attempt, of course. he's very observant and would notice you missing if you were out of his sight for like five seconds. you two are basically joined to the hip, so it's really, really hard for you to just somehow disappear from his sight. you're thankful that somehow he didn't even set up security cameras for the house himself.

of course, that doesn't discourage you from pranking your husband.

simon was away on a deployment for a few months, and you have been planning all of this from start to finish. you've seen lots of tiktok and reels and whatever about seeing how long your spouse will go look for you if you went missing, and you're kind of curious as to how long it takes for him to go look for you. clearly, you weren't thinking that far ahead.

you went and set up cameras yourself, since it's high time that you need to install one anyway. you told simon before he left, he completely trusted you to deal with it. he's most likely going to check everything when he comes back anyway, making sure that you did everything properly. but that's how you find yourself sitting impatiently, waiting for him to pull over the driveway of your shared home.

after setting everything up, you make sure that the cameras are working around the house. one by the front door, one in each room (except the bathroom), one in the garage and overseeing the driveway, and one facing the backyard.

this was flawless. this was amazing. he's going to laugh and find you in five seconds as usual.

you quickly hide yourself in the closet after you hear him pull over, making sure to keep your voice as low as possible. you giggled as you saw him call for you as he walked into the house through the security camera. but you weren't ready to see what happened next.

simon kept calling for you, looking around nervously as he couldn't find you. he dropped his duffel bag on the floor, kicking his boots off in a rush as he looked everywhere for you, getting increasingly agitated and anxious since you didn't respond. you can clearly see how panicked he was, how scared he is. his voice cracks as you could hear him pass from room to room, his hands flipping through your entire house to find you.

seeing how panicked he was, you felt really bad.

you quickly leave your hiding spot, calling out to simon. he was holding a knife in his hand, a panicked look on his eyes as he turns to you, eyes blown wide. his breathing is irregular.

"simon! i'm sorry! i was hiding and—"

you couldn't even finish your sentence before he hugged you, dropping his knife as he held you close to him. his body shook silently as he pressed you against his chest, not wanting to let go. you could feel his heart beating fast, his fingers trembling against the small of your back. you could feel wetness dropping against your skin, but you're too scared to say it out loud.

"... don't do that again..."

"i'm sorry, simon..."

he didn't say anything, simply holding you tighter in his arms. he wouldn't leave you alone for a few days afterwards. you're sure he's still mad at you after what you did, but he didn't say anything, too busy holding you close to him hoping that somehow he could glue the two of you together so you wouldn't wander off.

you learned that you probably shouldn't try and scare him like that again.

[izzyy-stuff]

TXT and their smut head-canons

txt x afab!reader

word count: 400-600 for each member, 2.4k in total

warnings: use of "my girl" in yeonjun's, oral, vaginal fingering, pet names, established relationship, edging, dirty-talking, overstimulation, mirror sex, unprotected sex, plushie humping I might have missed a few things, but hopefully that's all

SOOBIN

He gets very pussy drunk, always wanting to have his head in between your thighs.

“Pretty please,” he begged, his puppy eyes staring into your soul. “Soob, it's been a long day. I am tired,” you shook your head, sighing. “You don't have to do anything, bun. Please, I just want to make you feel good.”

And just like that, you give in again, unable to resist your pretty boyfriend as he begs to taste you. You find his head in between your thighs almost immediately, sucking on your clit lazily.

He could go on for hours, not letting you go even after you cum, keeping his tongue in your cunt as he licks every last bit of your orgasm, his nose buried in your clit. “You taste so good,” he mumbles against your pussy, kissing your inner thighs, looking up at you.

Before you two started dating, and even at the beginning of your relationship, he was shy, unsure of what he could and couldn't do. But after you two had sex for the first time, he turned out to be a big pervert.

“Soob, I am working,” you complained right after he picked up your call. “Mhm, need you here with me,” he'd only groan in response, making your eyes widen as you hear the lewd sounds. He was actually masturbating and not just texting you to tease you.

You quickly hanged up on him, making sure no one heard what you did. You looked at your phone again, going to curse him out for not warning you sooner when he sends you a message first. A video attachment. You don't need to click on the video to realize what he had sent you, turning off your phone immediately. He was an asshole for texting you those cheap things and then even sending you a video while you were working.

Just like the last one suggests, he loves teasing you over the phone and sending you nasty texts, while he sometimes can't even speak properly when you start dirty-talking to him in person.

“I thought you said you'll ruin me?” You smirked, sitting on his lap, facing him, his pretty eyes wandering all over your face. “I- mhm,” he tried to answer but shut his mouth right away, unable to say anything now that you were in front of him. “What was that?” You smiled innocently, your fingers playing with his hair as you felt his cock hardening under you.

“You said you wanted to fuck all the stress out of me. And that you would eat me out well,” you reminded him, watching as his cheeks turned red. “I still want to do that,” he nodded quietly. You chuckled, cupping his cheeks as you pressed your lips on his. “Then don't just sit here and do what you promised.”

YEONJUN

He has a full-body mirror opposite his bed and knows damn well how to use it.

You sat on his lap, your head thrown back against his shoulder, moans escaping your lips. “What did I say, love? Eyes on the mirror,” he proclaimed while his two fingers thrusted into your pussy, that was already leaking with your cum. It didn't stop him when you finished, and you knew the “just five minutes, please. You look so good,” he said before wasn't even close to the truth. It had already been fifteen minutes, and he was nowhere close to being done.

“I can't,” you answered, your eyes closed. “You can. Come on. Look at how pretty you are with my fingers in you,” he whispered, his breath landing on your ear, sending shivers all over your body. “It's- too much,” you gasped as you felt his thumb on your clit. “Jjunie,” you moaned out, slowly opening your eyes just to see him smirking in the mirror, his eyes on your naked body. “God, I can't wait to fuck you.”

That alone was enough to make you cum on his fingers again. “Please, Jjunie,” you cried, trying to get off his lap. “What does my girl want, hm?” He asked, sucking on your neck to keep you in your place. You moaned at his touch again. “I need your dick, not fingers.”

“Say less,” he whispered against your skin, kissing you one more time before he took his fingers out. “But to get what you want, you need to listen to me too. Eyes on the mirror, baby.”

He is obsessed with the sounds you make when you're with him. All the moans, whines, and begs for him are pressure to his ears.

"Don't hold back." "Let me hear you, pretty." "God, do that sound again." Those were all words you heard that night and many nights before. Yeonjun wasn't the best at hiding what he liked. You always loved that, and you loved doing things he liked. You enjoyed dancing with him, wearing dresses that were his favorites, or listening with him to his favorite artists, but this was different.

You put a hand in front of your mouth as you felt like the pillow under you wasn't enough to muffle your sounds, doing your best to stay quiet. But Yeonjun had a different idea, thrusting into you even faster to make you moan for him. "C'mon, love, put that hand away," he groaned, his hands firmly on your ass, holding you up. "Please, pretty. I need to hear you," he begged, leaning closer and kissing your back.

"They are right next to us," you managed to answer without being too loud, pushing your head into the pillow again. His four band members were in the living room, watching some movie Kai was picking up as you two left to go to Yeonjun's room. And before you could realize it, you ended up on his bed, your ass up for him so he could fuck you. "Who cares? Let them hear how good I am in making you feel good."

BEOMGYU

Beomgyu refuses to admit it, but he has a favorite position. He cannot get enough of you on top of him, riding him.

You noticed a long time ago that he loves being able to see your face when he fucks you, but it was only recently that you realized what his all-time favorite position was. It was obvious when you thought about it. The way he moaned your name and watched you when you rode him was something else. It was driving you crazy.

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he praised you as he bit onto his bottom lip, watching your boobs bounce right in front of his face, your hands on his shoulders. His hands found their way to your waist, keeping your pace steady as he leaned closer to you, his lips placing wet kisses on your breast. "Gyu," you whined, your hand in his hair now. "Just hold it a bit longer," he mumbled against your boob as he sucked on your nipple, knowing you were as close to cumming as he was.

He is a menace, teasing you whenever he gets the chance. It's simply his way of showing affection. That's also why he loves it when you show him affection in the same way, teasing him.

Beomgyu sat in his gaming chair, tilting his head as he lost another game. Everything was going against him today. "Again?" Soobin asked. "Yeah, surely we are going to win this round," Beomgyu agreed before he muted himself, noticing you walk into the room. "What's up?" He wondered, glancing at his loading screen to assure himself he wasn't in the game yet. "Nothing, keep playing. I just wanted to be here." He didn't look much into it and turned his attention to his screen again, starting the game.

But before he could realize it, you were under his desk, your hands spreading his knees apart. He glanced at you, ready to tell you he wasn't in the mood, but when he saw you, your puppy eyes looking up with your lips slightly parted, he couldn't. But he also couldn't get off the game just like that.

To his luck, you didn't mind. You didn't care if Soobin heard his whines because the two of them were on a call or that he had his eyes on the screen, trying to focus. You pulled down his pants along with his boxers, his already hard cock slapping against his tummy. You scoffed at how hard he was. You saw the look he gave you. You knew he was planning to tell you to stop at first, so it made you scoff how his thoughts didn't align with his body at all.

"Keep focusing on the game, you need to win this round," you proclaimed with a smirk on your face when you felt his eyes on you again as you sucked on his tip. "And how exactly do you want me to do that?" He asked, trying not to make any unnecessary moans when Soobin could still hear him. "Fuck," he whispered, noticing his character dying as you took his whole length down your throat. "Sorry, Soobin, gotta go," he said quickly, not even waiting for his best friend to answer before he hung up on him, moving his chair slightly to the back so he could see you clearer. "You think it's fun to suck me off while I play? God, stop staring at me like that, or I'll cum."

TAEHYUN

No matter how responsible he is, he loves fucking you raw.

"Just fuck me without one, I don't care." When he heard the words coming out of your mouth, a part of him went crazy. He stopped looking through his drawer for condoms and came back to you in no time, spreading your legs apart to take a proper look at your wet cunt. "Oh yeah? You want me to go in raw?" He teased, a smirk on his face. You glanced at him, the visible bulge in his pants making you clench around nothing but thin air. "Please," you nodded.

It took him no time to get his pants and boxers off, giving his cock a few pumps before moving closer to you, his tip teasing your entrance as he pushed your legs up to your breast. You moaned out a lot more desperately than you would want. "Tae, please," you whined, watching as his lips turned into a smirk again. "Don't cry that it's too much later. You are the one who begged for me so beautifully."

You soon find your boyfriend's cock inside of you, not giving you any time to adjust before he starts thrusting in and out of you, fast right from the start. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock even more as he spoke.

He hates when you try to tease him while giving him a blowjob, but it's a whole different story when he is the one doing it. The way you beg for him to let you cum and the way you whine under him are his favorite parts of edging you.

"Please, please," you cried, trying to close your legs. "Please, what? Hm?" Taehyun asked, not even looking up at you. His eyes were focused on your wet pussy as his fingers pushed in and out of you. "Need to cum," you managed to answer, thrusting your hips towards his fingers, but the moment you did so, he pulled them away, watching you whine again.

You tried to get your hand to your pussy and take care of it yourself, but he had a different plan, grabbing your hand right after he saw you move. Your hands were pinned above your head right away, making you whine again. "Tae, please. Need to cum," you begged him again. "Not yet, beauty. Want you to cum in my mouth."

You found your head thrown back with your hands still pinned above you as he went down on you, sucking on your clit. "Tae!" You gasped when you felt him insert his two fingers into you again while his mouth still played with your clit.

It was your last straw. You couldn't hold back anymore even if you wanted to, squirting all over his face. "Is that all you got after all this time?" He mumbled, his head still buried between your thighs, tongue-fucking you.

HUENINGKAI

Kai has an obsession with your boobs. Whenever he sees you walking around without your bra, he gets hard, wanting nothing more than to fuck your breast.

His eyes fell on your hard nipples immediately. You had just walked out of the shower, wearing only your panties and one of his shirts. He had to gulp as he shifted in his place on your couch, unable to take his eyes away.

"Everything okay?" You asked, drying your hair with a towel. "What's on your mind?"

"You are," he proclaimed, reaching his hand out to you. You smiled at him, thinking he was in his 'sweetheart mood' like you liked to call it, but you soon noticed you were wrong. When you got closer to him, your eyes automatically fell on the bulge in his pants, making you scoff in disbelief. "Please, love, just once," he begged you quietly, his puppy eyes looking up at you. You sighed, knowing exactly what was on his mind.

You dropped to your knees, slowly taking off your - his - shirt, making him shift in his place again. "You're so-so pretty," he praised you as you held your breast in your hand, his hard cock sliding in between them immediately, his tip touching your lips. You opened your mouth, licking his tip before he started thrusting into your mouth, whining at the way you squeezed your boobs around his dick.

Whenever he feels horny while the two of you are away from each other, he humps one of your plushies, moaning out your name.

"fuck, y/n," he groaned out desperately, humping your teddy bear. It was full of your scent, and that alone was driving him crazy. "Nhm- Need you so much," he continued, his eyes closed as he imagined it was you under him, his cock sliding on your folds instead of the stupid plush toy.

His hand reached out to his nightstand, almost knocking down everything that was on it in order to get to his phone. He didn't stop his movements as he opened your and his chat, texting you to come home soon. However, the text looked a lot different than he intended to. It was just a bunch of letters when you read it, but the follow-up message made you realize what was going on. "nwwd you sm plss" was the only thing he managed to write before he threw his phone to the side, thrusting his hips against the teddy bear faster.

[lyrefromthesea]

Do you think you could maybe do the Hashiras with a dying reader? Not like dying in there arms but a reader who's so ill that they can't move and bed ridden, dying?

Remember to take care of yourself!!

Hashira x Reader - how sickening

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader, Shinobu x reader, Mitsuri x reader

content warning: angst, fluff?

Tengen:

"i'm home" he said, still both his swords in hand. he had started immediately coming home after his missions, worried over your safety.

since the doctor told you to stay in bed, he had to help you more now. he didn't mind, he would give you acts of service as long as you live.

however, when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen, he dropped both his swords, rushing towards the room.

you stood in front of the counter, trying to chop vegetables. his eyes widened, knowing that you put a toll on your body. with a swift movement, his hand was on yours as he stood right behind you.

"darling, it's enough." he told you, gently taking the knife out of your hands. he almost felt bad when you looked at him with big deer eyes. "the doctor told you to rest."

"i know, but it doesn't sit right with me. i still feel like i can do things myself. i want to be helpful." you admitted, your head lowering.

"i know, but it's important to rest at times. let's bring you to bed, I can finish this." he answered, nodding at the vegetables. he put an arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom.

listening to your words, he knew you still wanted to feel helpful - strong, but he saw how weak your body truly was.

he knew that there was a slim chance of survival. he didn't want the time you still had decreasing because you were pushing yourself too much.

Obanai:

you were asleep again. it happened more often since he came visiting you every day. his eyes were looking you over, trying to find anything out of place.

you had more bandages on your arms, probably from all the shots you were receiving. your lips have turned more pale and dark circles were slowly growing under your eyes.

he had come up with a routine when you were asleep upon his arrival, checking your body first and then placing his head on your chest.

he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your heart. the steady beat always managed to calm him down, but it has grown weaker over the past days.

he felt worry consuming the back of his mind, not noticing how your hand moved until it was placed on his head.

"Obanai.. you came to visit again." you mumbled, opening your eyes just a bit, everything else felt too exhausting.

"i promised." he answered, carefully pulling away. he knew it was stupid, but he was worried about putting too much weight on you.

"you can continue, i don't mind.." you tried to encourage him to continue, not wanting him to feel stressed. he declined your offer right away, much rather looking after you.

"i'm fine."

Rengoku:

his eyes were locked on your plate. the two of you have eaten lunch about half an hour ago. when he decided to do the dishes and found your nearly untouched plate, worry began to pool in his gut.

you hadn't eaten properly over the past few weeks, but it had been so much worse since last week. he put the plate down, not feeling like cleaning it right now.

his mind was elsewhere - with you - trying to figure out how to make you feel better.

he had already known what an untreatable disease could do to people. he had watched his mother be bedridden until the moment of her death.

and even though you've told him that you made peace with the fact you were going to die, he had at least wanted to make your days as bearable as possible.

he shook his head, trying to lock the negative thoughts out. times were hard, he needed to show you he was a reliable husband - that he still had hope.

he cleared his throat, trying to look more confident a he wandered to your room. perhaps he could convince you to eat a small treat.

Sanemi:

visiting the hospital was something Sanemi dreaded every day. he would've avoided ever seeing this place, but that meant he wouldn't be able to see you.

entering your room, he found himself swallowing down his sorrows. he did it for you, but it got harder for him with each passing day.

he stood next to your hospital bed, looking down at your face. you nearly looked like last time, but you've grown more pale.

he wondered if you could feel the change - feel anything. if he only knew that his daily visits were helping you grow healthy.

yet there was no indication of your well-being. you had been in a coma for three months now and the doctors didn't believe in your recovery anymore.

"i tried cooking your favourite, when you wake up again, i want to show you." he started, standing next to your bed. he didn't know what to do, so he decided to tell you about his day when he visited.

he knew it wasn't anything interesting, but he hoped you would hear something - anything. he hoped you would wake up and prove the doctors wrong.

Giyuu:

this wasn't fair. his sister. his friend. the people he fought to protect. and now you.

ever since you've grown sick, he has stayed by your side. he knew you couldn't move on your own so he did it for you. it was easy to carry you around, you've grown much lighter in his arms. it worried him, even the inexperienced eye could tell you weren't healthy.

"the sun will set soon." his quiet voice proclaimed, feeling your head move. he sat down on the engawa, keeping you in his arms.

"is this okay?" he asked, trying to ensure you weren't uncomfortable in his hold. he wanted you to feel at ease at all times.

"it's good, don't worry." you mumbled, placing your head against his chest. his hold on you grew tighter, he was glad you put your trust in him.

he swore to protect you, but protecting someone from a demon is different than this. he felt helpless, afraid of losing you.

he didn't know how many sunsets you would be able to see.

Gyomei:

when the first signs of your sickness started occuring and you wished to still indulge in the pleasures of life, he had supported you.

deep down he thought it would maybe make you feel better, treat what was untreatable.

however, it didn't change the number of times you were more tired than usual, passing out in the midst of a conversation or task.

"Gyomei..?" you awoke in your bed, hands slowly rubbing over your eyes. you didn't know why you were here, you had been walking through the meadow a few moments prior.

"your fever has returned." he informed you, placing a wet towel on your forehead. you shuddered at the feeling, sinking deeper into the blankets.

"i didn't notice, i'm sorry." he said, his voice having grown more quiet. he felt guilty, he should've noticed that you had grown more ill again.

"don't apologize. it's nothing we could've seen coming." you answered, a quiet chuckle leaving your lips.

he smiled, yet he couldn't unhear how weak your voice has gotten, how you had to exhaust yourself everytime you answered.

Shinobu:

"are you ready for your daily shot?" she asked you, wanting to make sure you're fine. you nodded, trying to force a smile on your face.

she glanced at your face for a short moment, then proceeded to take the syringe in her hand. you had been staying in the butterfly mansion for a while now, but you still didn't look any better.

the sting of the needle barely hurt and feeling the small amount of liquid entering your arm made a weird sensation spread throughout your body.

you wanted to tell Shinobu, but stopped when you saw her face. the smile she tried to keep up vanished every time she had to give you a shot.

you figured that he was worried about your state, not wanting it to worsen. naturally, you brought your hand on top of hers, her eyes meeting yours.

"it's going to be fine." you told her, a weak smile forming on your face. she smiled back. "i know."

she needed to leave a few moments later, telling you to rest some more. your emotional strength was admirable, but it wouldn't keep you safe this time.

how long would she be able to treat you until she gave up fighting a deadly disease?

Mitsuri:

"[name]!" Mitsuri cheered, rushing towards you after she entered your shared estate. it was the first thing she did since you had been bed-ridden.

"i brought you some sakura mochi! i thought sharing some would lift your mood!" she cheered, placing a huge plate of the sweet treat down next to you.

she smiled happily, though her face dropped when she saw your apologetic look. had she done something wrong again?

"thank you, Mitsuri, but i'm not supposed to eat sweets.." you reminded her. now she really lost her smile, looking at the plate and then back at you.

"i'm so sorry! i just wanted to cheer you up!" she whined, her hands immediately coming up to meet yours. she didn't do this will ill intentions, she had just wanted to make your day brighter.

"it's fine. i appreciate the gesture." you comforted her, gently squeezing her hands. at least that's what you tried, but your strength has drastically reduced, making the action barely noticable.

"sit down and tell me about your day. i've been worried about your mission." you said, watching her slowly sit down. she did as you asked, wanting to make you happy.

and as you two sat there, speaking for hours, she didn't notice how you had pushed the sakura mochi further to her - by the end of your conversation the plate was empty.

[leighsartworks216]

It's Nothing

Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Inspired by my late as fuck period and joking with my friend that I was the next virgin mary. Not proofread cuz I want to post it but I'm tired of looking at it

Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing

Word Count: 1,450

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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"Sweetie? What has you so distracted lately?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just, uh- thinking about work, that's all!"

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's-" You falter, searching desperately for an excuse and coming up woefully empty "It's really nothing, Sy. I'll tell you at some point, just..."

"... Just not right now." He sighs, but nods, dismissing the subject. A frown lingers on his face as he turns back to the movie. "I trust you, sweetie," he says after a long pause, when it seemed the topic had been dropped completely.

The guilt sinks down into your stomach, but you bite your tongue and cuddle further into his side. The rest of the night remains tense.

You want to tell him. Admit what's on your mind. Finally release this stress from your body. But you can't! Because... what if he leaves you? And maybe you're just being paranoid for nothing - but you can't take that risk, not with Sylus, of all people.

Your period is over a week late. That's not terribly unusual, but it is suspicious given the fact you've stopped using protection in the bedroom. Well, not necessarily stopped, since you're on birth control, but things get heated and he's finished inside of you without a condom. So... what if your birth control didn't do its job 100%? You know there’s a small percentage of it failing, so what if this time is the time it chooses to be ineffective?

Dr. Zayne is the only person you've told about your fears, when you went in for a checkup and nervously asked if he could run a pregnancy test for you. You're not sure if being your childhood friend made the next line of questioning about your sex life more or less awkward. You do know that that test came back negative... But Zayne said after the fact that it could be too early to tell.

So all you can really do now is wait until you do or don't get your period again.

You know it bothers Sylus a lot, your secrecy. You two have both progressed so far in learning how to trust each other, even with the stupid things. This just... doesn't feel like one of those stupid things. You've only just put a name to the relationship, you don't want to ruin that now when things are so new and nice.

So you hold it in. You try your damndest to put it on the back burner and show him as best you can that everything is fine and that you still love and trust him.

You wake up with your body's internal clock. With the N109 Zone being so dark, knowing when day is is a bit tricky. But, Sylus is asleep beside you, laying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He doesn't have a shirt on. A wide expanse of tan skin and rippling muscle is left exposed as the blankets all pool around his hips.

You smile to yourself, albeit a bit mournfully. You're glad he's still sleeping beside you, even if you've both been a bit rocky lately. It's all your fault - you know. You'll make it up to him somehow. You have to.

Slowly, as quietly as you can, you slip out of bed and creep to the bathroom...

"Sy!" You see him startle out of sleep, hand already wrapped around the gun under his pillow as he sits up, searching for the danger.

"What is it?" he asks sharply. You run and jump onto the bed, landing partially on top of him. He tosses the gun onto his nightstand and lifts you by the waist to reposition you into his lap as he sits up properly. "What's got you so excited?"

"I'm not pregnant!"

He blinks up at you with a frown. You grab his shoulders like an excited kid, looking at him expectantly. He feels like he’s skipped several chapters into a book and the plot twist reveal isn’t making any sense. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

You're practically vibrating in his lap with energy. It's the most light he's seen in your eyes for the last week and a half. It's... relieving. "I'm not pregnant! We haven't been as careful with protection lately and then my period was supposed to come, but it didn't, so I had a pregnancy test done, but Zayne said it could be too early to tell when it came back negative, so I've been waiting and waiting to know if I really am and-! And I'm not! I'm bleeding again, Sylus! I'm not pregnant!"

He shakes his head, brow pinched with a pained expression. "That's the 'nothing' you've been distracted by all week?"

"Um..." You grin sheepishly. "Yeah?"

He takes a moment, eyes closed and lips drawn into a frown. That guilt that settled in your stomach during your movie night returns, doubled in intensity. You got over-worried and kept secrets from your boyfriend, when you could have just told him from the start how weird it was that your period is late and how worried you are about what it could mean.

"Sy...?"

"Mmm."

"Are you mad at me?"

He finally opens his eyes. The expression eases slightly as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Have the cramps hit yet?"

You shake your head. "Um, no?"

Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around you and your world tilts on its axis. A heavy weight settles above you. Sylus's nose presses against your neck. "Good. Let's stay here for when they do."

You try to wriggle loose. He tightens his hold around you and nips at your skin sharply. You jolt, but it stops your struggling. “Why do we have to stay here for my cramps?”

“Because, sweetie,” he sighs. You’d think he’s annoyed, if it weren’t for the way he runs his nose along the column of your throat and eases his weight fully onto your body. “When your cramps start, you’re going to want a heating pad and a massage. And since you hate my massages-“

“I do not!”

“-it’s better if I just lay here and provide all the heat you desire.”

His logic isn’t faulty… And, honestly, having him so close to you again, without the barrier you built between you both, is really, really nice. So, you relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and begin playing with his hair. He lets out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

“So… you’re not mad at me?” you ask again.

“No, I’m not mad. I was… worried. Suddenly you were pulling away from me with no explanation and no warning. I thought…” You gently pull on his hair to remove his face from your neck. He follows with no resistance, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you with such serious eyes, tinged with sleepiness and lingering concern. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”

You frown at the admission. For over a week, he thought you were pulling away because you didn’t trust him… “I guess I didn’t help any, keeping my worries a secret…” He doesn’t agree, but you see a slight quirk in his brow. “I’m sorry, Sy. I didn’t… I just… This is so new. I was worried that if I was pregnant, you’d be upset or leave me or something.”

He scoffs. “I’m not so easily scared off, kitten.”

“And I know that now.” You lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut, furrow in his brow relaxing. When you pull away, they open to look at you once again. “I promise, from now on, I won’t keep secrets like that from you anymore. You’ll be the first to know if I’m worried about anything.”

He grins slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I promise to be just as honest with you.”

He lifts himself up just enough to capture your lips. Your mouths move together in a languid dance, sealing the deal you two have just made. It lasts several minutes. Neither of you really ever want it to end, but Sylus needs his sleep and you’re going to need all his love and care when your uterus decides to rain hellfire on you to make up for lost time. He pulls away slowly, trails light kisses down your jaw, and tucks himself back into your neck.

Everything feels so much more secure now. Despite all your fears, the relationship has grown stronger. And you know, you’re both going to be okay.

-

Bonus:

“Is the thought of having my kids that terrible?”

“You know that’s not why I was worried, you asshole.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey Shiesty (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: After giving her husband a much needed pep talk, we get Wifey's version of mic'd up during the Bengals vs. Broncos game

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @mirrorballgirlie25 and an anon 💕

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The level of excitement that you had when you woke up around eleven in the morning was unmatched as you sat up against the headboard for confirmation.

One of the few days that you didn't have any morning sickness.

It was evident that Joe was already awake seeing as he wasn't lying next to you and could faintly hear the shower running in the bathroom signaling that he was getting ready to head to Paycor to take on the Denver Broncos.

There was a lot riding on this game, but you had done your usual routine with making his favorite foods and giving him pep talks. Joe's bag that he would be carrying when he left was sitting on the bed and you quickly pulled out your stationary set and wrote a small note to stick in there.

You got this, Shiesty.

I love you,

Wifey

You did this before every game whether it was at home or away and Joe kept every single one and had it organized by season.

You would usually also get up early and go into the bathroom and also write notes for him on the mirror so that way he would also wake up and see them.

When you were finished, you closed his bag and was caught off guard by arms wrapping around you and a kiss being placed on your cheek.

“Good morning Mr. Shiesty.” You told him as you turned around to properly hug him.

“Good morning baby girl. No morning sickness? Did my baby actually get to sleep? I didn't hear you get up at all.”

“I actually slept for once so hopefully I'll have energy for the game.” You replied as he then leaned down to kiss you.

Joe let out a deep sigh and you immediately knew what to do.

“Okay, baby. We got this. I know how important this game is and that we want to make the playoffs, but just get through each quarter and take your time. Either way it goes today, I am so fucking proud of you. This has truly been your best season and you keep silencing the people who hate on you every single time. Like breaking records and breaking some of your own too? You were drafted number one for a reason. Now go out there today and show them why. I love you and as promised I will be in your suite cheering you on.”

The smile that broke out on Joe’s face was huge as he leaned down to kiss you once more in response.

“I just… it’s so much pressure on my shoulders. But at the same time it is what it is.”

“Baby, you’re the quarterback if you didn’t realize it until just now.” You joked with him and he let out a small laugh.

“I hadn’t noticed and I love you too. Thank you for the pep talks that you always give me. It may not seem like a big deal, but it is.”

“Of course, my love. Always going to be in your corner rooting for you.”

“And the same goes for you, it’s just in a different way now.” Joe replied as he glanced down at your leg and saw the surgical scars staring back at him as he lightly ran his fingers over them.

He couldn't think about it for too long since it would make him upset, but every day, he woke up grateful that you were still here able to do life with him. He couldn't have imagined what happened if you weren't. Becoming a widow a few months after you get married was something that was constantly running through his thoughts when you had gotten hurt.

The pain was still evident even if you didn't talk about it much, not wanting to make your husband worry. He did enough of that when he thought he would be planning your funeral.

Being pregnant, the only thing that you were able to take for pain was tylenol and some days that just wasn’t cutting it. But the last thing you were about to do was risk the health of your twins.

“Is it bothering you today?”

“So far, so good.”

“Just remember to bring some medicine with you. Don't want you sitting there in pain.”

“I'll put some in my bag, promise.”

“Good, pack some heat packs too just in case.”

“Oh, and I have a little surprise. Ja’Marr actually came up with it so you can thank him for it.”

“And what’s that?” Joe asked as he was starting to get dressed.

“I’m going to be mic’d up during the game for me and Taylor’s podcast so do your best to not give your wife a panic attack or send her into labor because it is way too early.”

Joe threw his head back in laughter because he knew how you would get during the games.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises. I can’t wait to watch it later.”

“But for now, I'll go make you some food while you get ready.”

“No need, baby. I got up early and ate.” Joe told you and in response you made a face at him.

“Baby doll, your morning sickness has been horrible lately. I wanted you to sleep. I have the ability to make myself something to eat and not burn down the kitchen in the process. Give me credit where credit is due.”

“But I ALWAYS make you food on game days when you play at home and sometimes you have dessert and eat me out before you leave. It's our thing!”

“I know, but you can make us something later when we win and I can eat you out later. That can definitely be arranged.”

“Fine, I'm holding you to that.”

“Good, now give me kisses.” Joe told you as he was now sitting down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap.

You gave him a few kisses before kissing the side of his mouth and laying your head on his shoulder.

“You're lucky you just took a shower and need to get ready because I want to bite you so bad right now.”

“AHT AHT! Baby do not start, as much as I want to, I can't rearrange your guts all day.”

“But you can do it all night.” You replied while smirking as you picked your head up to look at him.

“See? This is why you're pregnant now.”

“Don't blame it on me, you had something to do with it too.” You scolded him as he kissed the tip of your nose.

Suddenly Joe’s phone went off and he turned around to grab it and saw it was Ja'Marr calling and quickly answered.

“Stop swapping spit with my sister and let's go.”

“Damn, good morning to you too uno.” Joe replied as he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you even know what I was doing?” Joe asked and even though he couldn't see him, he knew that he was rolling his eyes.

“Joe, don't piss me off before we even get in the locker room on this nice Saturday. Yall can’t keep your hands to yourself for thirty seconds. I'll be at your front door in 15 minutes. Bye.”

After Joe hung up all he did was toss his phone to the side before kissing you once more.

“See you at 4:30?”

“See you at 4:30.”

—

Arriving at Paycor, security quickly escorted you as well as Erin to Joe's suite where you would meet up with Jim and Robin. Robin had already sent a text letting you know that they had just gotten there and the only thing on your mind was food and watching Joe and your baby brother play.

The entire episode of you being mic'd up would be recorded on your phone and you would upload it after the game was over whether the Bengals walked away with a win or not.

Once you had gotten settled and got everything set up how you wanted it, you set your phone to record.

“Hello my Woman Cave listeners. Wifey Shiesty here and you’re in for a little treat today. As you can see, I'm in my husband's suite at the game with my in-laws, and my best friend Erin and you guys are getting my version of mic'd up! I did tell Joe prior to him leaving the house this morning and I told him to do his best not to give me a panic attack, so let's see how this goes.”

First quarter

“Okay, yall have to do better than this if we want a playoff spot. Because what are we even doing right now?”

–

“Did you really just get sacked twice in a row?! O-line protect my husband, please! It is LITERALLY YOUR JOB.”

–

“Uh oh baby brother is making faces. He's getting annoyed. I am too Bam Bam, I am too.”

–

“WHAT!? The first quarter can't be over already. We have literally done nothing.”

–

Second quarter

“Baby! What are….? I gave you a pep talk this morning and this is NOT how this was supposed to go.”

–

“The babies are hungry again. Erin, can you get me more mozzarella sticks? Cheese has been my main food group since I got pregnant.”

–

“AHHH TOUCHDOWN! YEAH TEE! I guess he didn't want his mom cussing him out again. She really let him have it.”

–

“Okay, we got something going, feeling a little better. Oh, are those buffalo wings? I needed those like 6 hours ago. I don't care about the heartburn that I'm about to have after. The babies are getting some spice today. I have tums in my purse.”

–

Third quarter

“And, we're back. The babies were playing kickball with my bladder. I'm definitely going to drink this lemonade though.”

–

“Ehh, okay we're kicking. Fine, that'll get us ten.”

–

“NO! HE CAUGHT IT! NOW IT'S TIED.”

–

“Okay, we still have time. We got this. Can I have a milkshake delivered to the stadium? I want one. Never mind. Joe will get me one on the way home.”

–

“Erin, did you see Joe’s and Ja'marr's outfits today? Like WHO ARE THESE DIVAS? But I picked out Joey's last night. I wanted to bite him before he left, but he told me no.”

–

Fourth quarter

“Tee again with the touchdown!”

–

“Damn it! It's tied again. I literally told Joe NOT to give me a panic attack or make my water break and it's clear and evident that he in fact did not listen.”

–

“Oh! Is he in!? IS HE IN!? My husband is the shit yall. Get it baby! TOUCHDOWN!”

–

“Wait a minute… is he…? Is he doing the griddy? See that's the black wife effect for you. And of course Ja'Marr co-signed it. He got more rhythm when he married me.”

–

“Okay, clock is winding down. We can do this. Not that much longer to go.”

–

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!? Oops, babies don't repeat that. It's tied again!”

–

“Overtime it is. I need to pee again and I'm hungry. These children need to chill out with the food requests.”

–

Overtime

“Okay dad got me nachos. I'm okay now, we're back in business. Shoutout to Paycor. Yall have the good cheese.”

–

“I can't watch anymore and need to close my eyes.”

–

“Well that lasted for a total of thirty seconds.”

–

“OH! OKAY HE’S AT THE TWO! TEE'S AT THE TWO! Yall better not fuck this up.”

–

“HE GOT IT!”

–

“I'm happy we won, but I need to sit here for a minute before I go to the tunnel. Bottom line is put some respect on my husband's name. As of now he is literally the only person in the history of the NFL to have 250 pass yards but 3 pass touchdowns in 8 straight games. So unless you can do that, don't talk to me. And, I rest my case. Now it's time for my milkshake and to hug my husband and baby brother.”

When Joe spotted you in the tunnel, he was all smiles and quickly made his way over to you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Proud of you, babe.” You told him as you reached up to pinch his cheek.

“Your pep talk definitely helped this morning. Just took us a minute to find our rhythm.” Joe replied as he started to play with the ends of your hair, something that he did more often than not.

“Speaking of rhythm, that griddy was too clean. You should have heard me and Erin yelling.” You told him and he couldn't help but to laugh.

“It's the black wife effect. Can't be around you and your family all the time and walk away with nothing.” He casually said as he shrugged and you busted out laughing.

“And just wait until you hear my mic'd up episode.”

“Please tell me you're kept it somewhat appropriate. I never know with you.”

“Well, babe, I didn't say anything about me turning you every way but loose once we leave here if that's what you mean.” You sweetly said while batting your eyelashes at him.

“I… I guess I'll take it then.”

“BIG SIS!” You heard Ja'Marr yell and quickly yelled back at him as he was running towards you.

“LIL BRO!”

Ja'Marr promptly picked you up and hugged you before setting your back down on your feet.

“You see your husband's griddy?” He asked and Joe simply smirked at the both of you.

“He just told me that it's the black wife effect.”

“I have to agree, this man has a grill now, seasons his food, still holding onto the pumpkin pie, but I'll let it slide today. Maybe one day he'll accept that it honestly tastes like sweet potato pie with low self-esteem.” He replied and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Bye Ja'Marr!”

“What!? Did I lie!?”

“No, but I need a milkshake babe. Go do your presser so I can get one on the way home.”

“I need another kiss before I do.” He told you as Ja'Marr made a gagging noise.

“Yall make me sick.”

“Then look away.” Joe told him as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You would think that it's been forty days and forty nights since the two of you saw each other last.”

“And we're ignoring you.”

–

“Fuck! That's it, pretty girl.” Joe whispered in your ear as he had wrapped his arms around you as you continued to ride him.

The ride home honestly felt like torture with you both trying to keep your hands off one another and forget the bedroom. The two of you barely made it through the front door as clothes were thrown off and left in a pile as you were now on the couch riding him.

The two of you learned pretty quickly that ever since you had gotten pregnant and you were now obviously showing since there wasn't just one in there, but two, the most comfortable positions for you were either riding him or laying down on your side and Joe was not complaining in the slightest.

However Joe was then abruptly confused when you had suddenly stopped and proceeded to swing your legs off of him and his protests were quickly heard.

“Babe, I was close. What the hell?” He asked as you had now spread his legs to make room and got down on your knees in front of him.

“Then how about you shut up and stop complaining? I got down here so you could face fuck me, but I will gladly get back up.”

“You're going to regret getting smart with me before the night is over.”

“Mm hmm, sure Burrow.” You responded as you rolled your eyes. You had done that on purpose because the adrenaline from winning the game mixed with him getting annoyed by your smart mouth would lead to him not showing you any mercy and that was exactly what you wanted.

Doing as he was told, Joe moved closer to the end of the couch as you took him in your mouth. Your hair kept ending up getting in the way, and he decided to help you as he put it into a makeshift ponytail which also led to him being able to have a better hold on you as he sped up his pace of him moving in and out of your mouth.

“You're doing such a good job, princess.”

A mix of sweat, tears, and drool was running down your face as he kept hitting the back of your throat. Your jaw was definitely sore, but you weren't quitting any time soon and was determined to see it all the way through until Joe got his release.

Being able to finally come up for air, Joe moved your head all the way back making you lose contact with him when he leaned forward to kiss you before sliding back into your mouth.

“Come on, baby. You gonna make me cum?” Joe asked as he finally released his hold on you.

Once he did, between the use of your mouth along with your hand it was only a matter of time.

You felt the first drop hit the back of your throat and was soon followed by a string of curse words from his mouth as you were trying to swallow the full load.

“You better swallow it. The entire thing.” He told you as he lightly tapped your cheek. It took you a minute but once you did, you also ran your finger along your cheek and chin to get what had dribbled out and sucked on your fingers.

“Good girl.”

Joe then picked you back up to sit in his lap and kissed you before turning to the side and laying down while taking you by your hips to move you up so you would be right above his face.

“I promised to eat you out, didn't I?” Joe asked you as he kissed all along your thighs.

“Yes.”

“Now stay still.”

--

Liked by joeyb_9, thewomancave, taylorrooks, lahjay10_, cincinattibengals, and 867,254 others

wifeyshiesty: the black wife effect lol now put some respect on my baby's name! so proud of you pookie!

My mic'd up episode will be released at midnight!

lahjay10_: I taught him that at the cookout. they grow up so fast. taylorrooks: I can't wait to hear the episode and talk about it! erinthegymnast: when he hit that griddy, me and wifey screamed so loud we're surprised they didn't hear us out on the field joeybfanatic: OMG not wifey being mic'd up lmao I absolutely love her on the woman cave so I'm excited for the unhinged shit that I know she's about to say joeyb_9: she's been unhinged since I met her, but I wouldn't have it any other way lahjay10_: joeyb_9 bruh I warned your ass and you still married her wifeyshiesty: lahjay10_ I know where you live (3 houses down) so get yourself together before I bust through your front door lahjay10_: wifeyshiesty if you can reach the handle to get in joeyb_9: pause, let me grab a snack to watch this go down joeburrowupdates: lmaooo not joe wanting his wife to beat her little brother's ass lahjay10_: she's all talk, she won't do anything joeyb_9: uh ja'marr she just put on her slides and grabbed her keys, I would make a run for it if I were you 👀

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Warm Hugs

So it turned into a fic where the reader just cuddles with Silco, how nice and fluffy. Enjoy it while I cook up more angst :)

You shove your hands into your pockets, trying to ignore the way your body shivers every now and then as you watch the goods being unloaded. It's particularly cold today, and you had come rather unprepared for the weather. Then again no one expected it to suddenly start raining in the middle of the day.

Your fingers feel like ice and the freezing wind howls in your ears, turning your face numb. You wish you had brought your coat along, but it had been left in Silco's office. Scowling at the Piltovians who were taking their own sweet time checking the crates, you play with the lighter in your pocket, wanting nothing more than to bundle up under some shelter and warm yourself a little by the lighter's fire.

With a sigh, you look up at the falling raindrops, wondering what Silco is doing right now. You miss his warmth, the smell of cigar ash and scotch, wanting nothing more than to be next to him right now. You hope that he's at least inside and not stuck in the rain like you are. Your thoughts wander to Jinx, hoping that she too is inside, tinkering with her latest gadgets and ready to surprise you with her latest invention.

Oh how you can't wait to get home. The workers have finally finished unloading when you're on the verge of doing it all yourself. One of the Piltovians silently hands you the log, paper drenched by the rain and you scowl hard at him, causing him to flinch. His hands shake as they leave the log and he mutters something you can't quite catch before scrambling back to Piltover, leaving you, your men and the crates of firearms in the pouring rain.

"We'll move them all to the nearest warehouse first. This rain isn't doing us any favours and we don't have much time left after those preening Piltovians took their sweet time with the late delivery. I'll send a couple to Silco as samples." You rifle through the crates, selecting a few random firearms before patting one of the crates. "Any of these go missing and you'll find yourself missing a couple of body parts here and there too."

The crew scarper off with the crates in tow, leaving you alone in the freezing cold once more. You watch on, ensuring that the crates reached their intended destination before disappearing into the shadows, making your way back to Silco's office.

"Dry yourself up. You're getting water everywhere." Silco doesn't look up from the stack of papers on his desk as you step inside, shivering. You raise an eyebrow, and then spot a towel as well as a change of clothes nicely laid out on the couch. Smiling, you grab the towel and walk over to him.

"Thank you." You press a quick peck to his forehead and he grunts, swatting you away.

"Don't you dare water all over the papers."

You only chuckle, draping the towel over your head and place the newly acquired firearms on the table. "For your perusal."

With that, you head to your shared bedroom to properly dry off and change just as Jinx walks into the office, excited by the new acquisitions.

When you come out, towel hanging around your neck, Jinx has made off with all the firearms but one and Silco looks vaguely annoyed.

"She left one specifically for you." His gaze flicks over you and he gestures for you to come closer. You comply, sitting on his lap and nuzzle into his shoulder happily. He grunts, wrapping his arms around you, paperwork left forgotten and runs his fingers through your now drying hair.

"You didn't dry your hair properly." He frowns, yanking the towel from around your neck.

"Hrm?" You remain snuggled against his chest, liking your current position. He huffs, fussing as he towels your hair, muttering about how you're going to catch a cold. You grin, basking in the attention he lavishes onto you and grab his hands, holding them still long enough to slip a kiss in. He blinks, surprised, but quickly regains his composure and pulls you in for another kiss, this time savouring the moment.

You smile, gently cupping his cheeks, your thumb brushing over his skin and feel him lean into your touch. He feels so warm, so soft, you never want to let him go. You feel the roughness of his scar, feel his hand move to rest on yours, feel him move your hand off his scar and you lean in, pressing a kiss to the rough bumpy skin.

"Don't pull away," you murmur softly. He pauses, looking at you with uncertainty, but lets his hand fall away. You whisper a thank you before tracing over his scar, committing the shape to memory, feeling him flinch slightly when your finger goes near his dead eye but he doesn't pull away. He lets out a deep breath, pulling you into a hug and closes his eye.

You can't help but smile softly, pressing your forehead against his as you soak in his warm embrace. You feel safe, protected, in the arms of The Eye of Zaun, and you want nothing more than to be held by him forever. Silco threads his fingers through your hair, sea foam coloured eye gazing at you fondly as your lips meet again. You drink him in, eagerly devouring the taste that is Silco, the one you love, the one you would burn the whole world for, knowing he would do the same for you.

Silco mouths something when you break away for air and you smile back, committing the sight in front of you to memory. Your finger traces along his jawline and he hums softly, hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer.

"Don't move," he murmurs into your ear and nuzzles your hair, resting his chin on your shoulder. You close your eyes, resting your head against his and feel his breath in your ear. You bask in his embrace, knowing that these moments are hard to come by, especially since he has a reputation to uphold as The Eye of Zaun and happily hug him tightly. You love the way he always makes a noise of surprise when you hug him, the way he pretends not to like it when you cuddle with him, soaking in all the warmth you can, the way he lets you poke his cheeks and get away it, giggling all the while.

You move a hand and slip it into one of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, raising your intertwined hands to your chest, placing it over your heart. You blink, feeling your heart thundering faster as his other hand reaches up to caress your cheek. You feel the callouses on his hand roughly brushing against your skin, the long slender fingers gliding over the scar that splits your right cheek in two.

"It wasn't your fault," you whisper, taking his hand.

"It was meant for me." His eyebrows furrow and he removes his hand from yours. "You shouldn't have —"

"Nope, no more." You place a finger on his lips, shushing him. "I don't regret it and would do it all over again if given the choice."

He huffs, bringing your palm to his lips. Pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, he smiles softly at you, "if only everyone else could be as loyal as you."

"Well, then I'd have a lot of competition to fight off, wouldn't I?" You laugh. gazing at him fondly. "I love you, my Silco."

"I love you too." He hums, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Always."

"Always."

[ssentimentals]

hellloooo can u please do idol!coups x reader for sleep deprivation on cheol’s part with reader taking care of him xx

helloooo anonie, sure i can, thank you for requesting! 💜

prompt: sleep deprivation

you try not to hover. you try not to act like mother hen in fear of being annoying. you try but it's so god damn hard when seungcheol looks like a dead man standing. your boyfriend has always been a hard worker, that's one of the qualities you admire about him, but his work ethic is also your biggest worry. seungcheol is present but just barely - you are sure that he didn't hear majority of the things you said with his mind being very, very far from here, buried in new dance routines or lyrics that had to be finished. it's amazing to see how work energizes seungcheol and gives him purpose, but it's horrible to watch him crumble under pressure. slowly you reach out for his hand, giving it a light squeeze: 'cheollie, baby. you're with me?'

seungcheol blinks at your touch and it takes him few moments to sit up straighter on the seat and send you a fake smile. 'yeah, baby, sorry, i'm here. what did you say?'

god, you can't believe this man wanted to pick you up after your work. seungcheol can't be trusted with a car now, not when he can barely focus. 'i asked if yuo're sure that we should go out tonight. you look really tired, cheol.'

he stubbornly shakes his head. 'no-no, i'm good. i'm so caught up at work that we haven't seen each other much lately.'

you kind of want to strangle and kiss him at the same time. he is so good for trying to make time for you amidst his hectic workload but he is so bad for not taking care of himself properly - you sigh loudly. 'when did you sleep last time?' you ask straight to the point. thank god for traffic at this hour, so you can fully turn to your boyfriend without paying attention to the road. 'you look like a zombie, baby.' seungcheol purses his lips and you instantly understand what's the problem. 'cheollie... you can't fall asleep?'

seungcheol sags in the passenger seat, looking embarrassed and done with himself. 'yeah,' he admits quietly. 'i- it's so fucking stupid. i don't know, i'm trying everything but it's just not working.' he sighs and rubs his eyes tiredly. 'i don't think i actually slept properly in the last 4-5 days.'

this admission breaks your heart. seungcheol is running on fumes and yet despite it all, he still is here, with you, because he doesn't want you to feel neglected. without thinking you enter new address to the gps, knowing full well what can help him this time. 'instead of the restaurant, let's have a picnic,' you announce in an overly enthusiastic tone.

'at eight pm?' seungcheol asks, confused. 'i mean if that's what you want then i don't mind but-'

'that's exactly what i want.' you squeeze his hand, sending him a small smile. 'no worries, baby. we are very close.'

it doesn't happen often, but it did happen before. sleep deprivation is, unfortunately, a part of seungcheol's life as an idol and you learned hard way how to deal with it. familiar scenes of home or studio don't calm him mind down, but fresh air and water always help. you park the close as close you can to the river and roll down all windows, letting cool evening breeze in. 'alrighty,' you turn to him with a gentle smile and snatch small blanket from the backseat. 'you take this and get comfortable. i'll order us some food.'

seungcheol grabs the blanket, frowning. 'what is happening?'

'we are having a picnic in the car,' you explain, opening food delivery app. 'and you are sleeping until the food arrives, getting much needed rest.' seungcheol opens his mouth to protest and you cut him off: 'this is a date. this is our date that i want to have.'

the thing is, you don't really care about specifics of date as long as seungcheol is close. he doesn't look convinced at first, but when you start talking about your date with a quiet music on the background, he relaxes. it doesn't take him long to fall asleep - adjusted seat, warm blanket, fresh air and your hand in his do their magic. you watch quietly as his breathing slows; in sleep seungcheol doesn't look as tired. still holding his hand you adjust your own seat and lower the radio volume. seungcheol going out of his way to be with you makes you want to do the same; and if date is about you letting him finally sleep and guarding his sleep then you're not complaining, not at all.

a/n: writing this made me so soft :') pls give cheollie all the hugs and sleep he deserves!! - nini

request your own here

my other seventeen work is here

[morallygreyyn]

Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?

Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓

miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)

description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...

authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

requests are open! please read my rules!

You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down. 

As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you. 

It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time. 

By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.

It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you. 

“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you. 

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”

He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”

Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.

Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Why are you pointing that out?”

“Because I’m wondering why.”

“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.

“I know, but now it seems different.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.

“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.

Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”

Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.

With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office. 

Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.

What was bothering him?

Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”

He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.

“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously. 

Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.

“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.

Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”

Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch. 

“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”

[octoberautumnbox]

The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice. 

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt. 

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up. 

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment. 

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face. 

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up. 

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth. 

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well. 

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point. 

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze. 

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair. 

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair. 

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful. 

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control. 

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same. 

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out. 

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night. 

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night. 

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots. 

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?” 

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it– I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs. 

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you. 

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat. 

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker. 

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more. 

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense. 

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement. 

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp. 

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love. 

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much. 

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile. 

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in. 

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you. 

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives. 

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can. 

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either. 

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video. 

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it. 

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one? 

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy. 

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her. 

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours. 

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie. 

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close. 

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse. 

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion. 

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…” 

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you. 

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears. 

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask. 

[sheepispink]

New faces, New experiences ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི COD MASTERLIST Part of the Sweet As Sugar Series

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི simon riley x (afab) baker! reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི After your date with Simon, you consider what you talked over, meeting his men would be really fun. And you're right, because Soap and Gaz already have something in mind to do with you.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི WC: 4.5k

PREV NEXT

————

You hadn’t been joking when you told Simon to bring his men over, but you may have underestimated how nerve wracking it’d be meeting them. Simon had called you the day before, telling you that they’d just finished an assignment and would be driving through town on their way to base. He was planning to just stop by himself, grab his usual, but the bakery was nearly never busy at that time, and you had excitedly offered for him to bring the whole team.

Obviously, you were excited; your parents were taking over the front counter for the day, allowing you to stay in the back preparing a batch of those chicken buns you made for Simon before. From the stories you’ve heard, Johnny was likely to have a sweet tooth so you reserved some chocolate tart on sale to keep him happy. Just in case anyone wanted something a little less overpowering yet flavourful all the same, you whipped up a quick key lime pie. Of course, you have a little paper bag of Simon’s usual kept to the side; it’s practically mandatory at this point. Half an hour before closing now, and your parents have left the shop for you to clean up and handle the last few customers. You walk through, the steaming tray placed on the back counter; it’s a regular routine for you, but you’re instantly caught off guard when Simon and his team are sitting in the corner already.

“Sorry—” A half-sincere apology as you place the mug that you almost spilled in sheer shock down in front of the customer, eyes still locked on the four men that you had originally anticipated to arrive in an hour—definitely not to be here already. It’s not that you’re angry, you just had originally thought you’d be able to tidy up the place first, get all the meddlesome stragglers out and serve a fresh new brew of your best tea. But now all your plans were completely ruined; how were you even supposed to introduce yourself properly when you still had plenty of people waiting for you to serve the last pastries on the shelf? Quickly, you reach into the cabinets below to grab your spices, measuring them hastily–a sick feeling beginning to churn in your gut. 

One pot of tea, three pastries for the table by the window, a latte for the couple by the painting— oh, and Simon’s pastries you kept in the small cabinet in the back. Wait, where did his pastries go? Oh right, your dad would’ve given them to him already. Wait, did he make his coffee the way you usually did it, or the way the menu says? It’s totally different, and why is this latte taking so long to brew? It’s only February and there’s sweat on the back of your neck; damnit, your hair is starting to fall down from the hasty updo and that flour is still on your shirt—

“Sorry for showin’ up a bit too early, sweetheart.” It’s not the first time he’s caught you overthinking, and definitely not the last time either. Your shoulders jump, spinning around to see his hands planted on the counter, his cold eyes sending a shiver of warmth straight up your spine.  “Simon!” Your cheeks push up as you smile, and you instinctively step forward like you always do, always giddy whenever he comes. The anxious thoughts swirl as you look past him at his team still chatting away, your teeth nervously grazing at your lip. “I just didn't expect you so… soon.” 

The grin falters a little, and that’s what makes Simon grow more concerned, not missing how your gaze still lingers behind him before you’ve turned around again to complete the latte. You tap the spoon against the sink, resting it on the side to be cleaned later. “Can’t say I didn’t see your jaw drop.”  He says in return, watching as you walk around the counter to serve it to the couple before heading back to grab the three pastries for the window table. 

When you return, he follows you behind the counter, the glass pastry case doing little to shield you from the others. “Figured I should check how you’re holdin’ up.”

“Me?” 

You’re giving him that confused look, but it’s so cute on you that he can't help but let the obliviousness to your own anxiety slide, his hand gently landing on your lower back. “What, you’re telling me you weren’t freaking out and overthinking about how you’d meet my teammates?” Heat flushes your cheeks, rising up to the curve of your dark circles and making your hands clench awkwardly as the realisation hits you like a truck. First was that you had definitely been freaking out, and second being that he knew you even better than you knew yourself. It makes your stomach swirl with nervous realisation, partly relief, and you can't help but let out the breath you were holding.

“Okay.. Okay, I was freaking out. It’s just..” You fall silent, chewing at your lip as you try to find the right words. He already knew you struggled a little with connecting with people, especially with the constant moves your entire life, but this is the first time he’s seen you like this. It was so just so nerve wracking; what if they didn't even like you or the food the bakery sold? What if the other day wasn't even a date, and it was just a friendly hangout and now Simon was making you meet his captain because he ordered pastries? What if this was never about you, and only ever about the bakery? What if——

“We came by because we needed somewhere to sit down and discuss things. Mainly between me and the Captain, but the other two listen in.” He explains, his hand moving to gently rub your arm as your back faces the café, your weight shifting from foot to foot. “You don't have to say anything more than a hi; they won't mind in the slightest.” 

 “But I want to talk to them. I mean— they’re your teammates! I don't know why I always seem to chicken out at the last minute…” 

He watches your hands fiddle with the fabric of your apron with a soft frown across his lips, concerned as you don't seem to be feeling much better at all. “Listen to me.” Simon slips his gloves off into his pocket, before cupping your cheek with his cold hand and purposefully making you wince in surprise. It’d be a lie to say he didn't love your reactions, and he’s glad when your chest finally sinks a little just by the distraction. “Say hi, talk a little. If you tell me you forgot to turn the oven off, I'll tell ‘em to keep their heads straight, and you can carry on as normal, okay?” Nodding along, you’re about to make a rebuttal when he rubs your arm again.

 “If you don't want to speak at all, it’s fine. I haven't told them anything; they're not expecting anything. It’s fine–there’ll be plenty of days.”

It’s such a good solution it makes you blink,your heart warming, and you’d hug him if not for the mohawked man from last time standing by the counter, staring longingly at your sweeter pastries. He glances up at the two of you, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Oh? Lt, are ye a baker now?” 

 “Shut it Johnny.” Simon groans, and you can’t help but smile, making the man you’ve heard is also called ‘Soap’ turn towards you.

“And I remember you, miss rookie who mysteriously gave the Lt lunch. Say, you’ve got some delicious lookin’ treats ‘ere, what would ye recommend?” The sickness dissipates, watching as Simon walks around the counter to drag his friend away. Instead, you giggle, reaching into the cabinet behind.  “I’ve heard around that you have a sweet tooth. So.. Chocolate tart?”

Soap’s face lights up as you pull out the last slice, the empty plate in the display glass revealed to be a lie. He looks to Simon who reluctantly nods, as if confirming he can actually take it from you, before sliding some cash out his wallet whilst taking the plate with glee. 

“No wonder Lt’s always comin’ down ‘ere. If I knew the baker was as sweet as her treats I’d be here too.” 

That makes you smile again, about to tell him he’s welcome anytime when the other sergeant, who you know from Simon’s stories as ‘Gaz’ comes walking up. “Soap, stop flirting with the cashier and get your damn food.” He scoffs, though it’s nothing more than a jest, before pointing at Soap and mimicking a crazy signal with his hand to you. 

“Hey! I’ll ‘ave you know, she’s Lt’s bird, not mine. So don't even try your charms either, Garrick.”

“Wait—Ghost is seeing someone?” Gaz looks at you with his jaw dropped, before glancing between Soap and Ghost for some sort of confirmation. It sounds weirdly right when it’s said out loud, though nothing has been officially stated yet. You’re just thankful the last few customers have left already–-it’s definitely time to close shop for the day.

“Lad, you’ve missed everything.” A man steps up from the table, walking forward directly towards you. It’s not hard to figure out who he is, with his demeanour practically screaming authority and yet his face is so welcoming he feels like another one of your dad’s best friends. Still, Simon had told you he was a high ranking soldier, if ‘Captain’ hadn’t already screamed superiority to you. Were you meant to thank him for his service? Salute him? Bow in respect??

He seems to notice your struggle, or maybe your emotions are painted on your face again, because he gives the other boys a smirk before stepping forward and reaching out a hand for you to shake. “Probably scared you already with the titles, hasn’t he? Captain John Price. Don’t bother with ‘sir’, these boys definitely don’t.” He huffs, and it eases something almost immediately seeing how relaxed Simon is, fondly rolling his eyes with his arms over his chest— you could argue he was likely a tad bit embarrassed. 

“It’s nice to meet you.. John, I’m uh..Ghost’s..” 

You pause, unsure what to call yourself in case you take a step too far, but thankfully Simon saves you, albeit sounding a bit exasperated. “She can be my wife for all your knowledge. Now, if you’re all done disturbin’ her peace, we have things to discuss.” He says gruffly, his eyes only focusing on yours— oh he’s embarrassed alright.

You’re sure that’s the end of it, until Gaz and Soap give each other a shared glance. “You mean you two have things to discuss.” Gaz smirks, stepping forward to also shake your hand, all while you’re looking more flushed by the second, eyes darting between the men before you. “Kyle Garrick—Gaz also works, whatever you choose.” Soap reaches for your other hand, shaking it as well with a big smile. “John Soap Mactavish, might be easier to say Soap.” 

—

The two accompany you into the kitchen of the shop whilst Price and Ghost talk over separate matters, eagerly asking you questions. Meanwhile, you prepare a fresh pot of tea for Ghost to take back to base whilst also cleaning up some stray things. “So how did you meet?” Kyle asks, watching intently as you measure out the spices before mixing them into the large pot on the stove. “Well, he came by to buy a pastry and I asked him if he wanted to try some of my new tea for free. After that, he came by the winter bazaar with his squadron and bought most of my stock.” You say sheepishly, and Gaz cooes, making Soap snicker.

“Makes sense, tha’ man loves his tea. It’s his English nature.” Soap remarks and you can't help but laugh along. “Well, maybe mine is just that good.”

You pour two cups for them, reminding them to blow on it first before they eventually taste it, eyes widening. “Wow, this is perfect. No wonder he always gives the mess hall tea a death stare.” Kyle laughs, leaning back against the counter as you pour the tea into a flask, ready for the long journey back to base.  “Can’t lie, I was a bit surprised. I always took Ghost to be a no dating guy..���

You blink at Kyle, looking over to Soap who shrugs as well, agreeing with him. “What do you mean?”

“Ghost hasn’t dated in years; we barely get to tease him since he’s never got wasted either.” That was probably the last thing you expected— actually you’re not really sure what you had thought at all about his previous dating life.

Since the day you met him, he was a mystery and yet an indulgence that made your heart swell. Every conversation you held was like unlocking another part of him, even if in most of them he just liked to listen to you tell him about something interesting you had found out that week. Then he started coming by even more regularly, and you’d talk throughout the day over text too. Just the thought of him brought a grin to your lips, and just the sound of his voice had you looking around for his presence. It felt like an infection, the way your adoration for him spread from shy thoughts in the back of your head to the tips of your fingertips when you’d playfully tap him on the back once you started your shift. So to think no one else has experienced this tornado of emotions for this person, it was a surprise, but also a badge of honour you’d wear proudly. If there’s one thing you can be confident in, it’s that you’ve got enough love to cover any previous exes he would’ve had.

“Well.. He’s very serious at work, so that does explain part of it.” Gaz offers, and you suppose it does make sense when he puts it that way. Sure, you’re well aware Ghost works for the military, but you never questioned past just how differently he may act there. He’s already a bit of an anomaly in your shop, his dark attire sombre compared to the flourishing colours of your pretty mugs. “Huh.. What is he like at work? Does he yell a lot? You’re curious now, leaving the flask forgotten to the side as you look at the pair of them with intrigue. Though Soap just glances at Gaz before looking over to you again.

“You wanna find out first hand?”

——

That’s exactly how you got smuggled into base, complete with your very own uniform and matching cap. The three of you giggle as a soldier looks at you funny, not recognising you but not wanting to be disrespectful so they quickly salute.

 “Are you sure this is okay?” You whisper as they lead you around base, towards the track where the Lieutenant is currently lecturing his squadron for whatever they had done wrong this time.  

“Promise, lass; this is perfectly fine.”

You watch with intrigue the way he sternly instructs them, voice clear and firm as he shouts orders and corrections as they run around the track— absolutely refusing for their form to be the slightest bit off. Training with his team is soon cut short, and he heads over to the gym for his own workout, with you following close behind. Soap pretends you’re a rookie he’s disciplining, facing his back to Ghost whilst he makes up some crazy story about how you fell out of a tree the other day. It’s the perfect cover for you to peek at how Ghost pushes the weight high before bringing it back down again. His muscles bulge, a clear narrow in his brow despite the mask before he lifts the great mass high once more. With the cold weather since you first met him, you’ve never once seen the man in a t-shirt and right now is definitely a sight you’d mourn until summer came around again.

“I never realised he was that strong..” You giggle, a giddy feeling swirling in your gut that has you feeling like a teenager all over again. It’s clearly obvious the effect he has on you to the other two sergeants, and so they can only roll their eyes, leading you outside his office. “Probably scolding a soldier right now.”

Nosy as ever, you all press your ear against the door, snickering at how he insults the soldier. “None of us have bloody time for your remarks-”

“But sir I just thought that..”

“Did you just interrupt me, soldier?” Silence rings out in the room, then you hear a shuffle of footsteps. “Get out of this bloody office. If I hear you ever suggest air striking the enemy again like an idiot, I'll strap you to that bloody airstrike myself.” You have to scurry down the corridor before you get caught, a hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your snickers as you learn more and more about the man who’s as quiet as a mouse in your café. 

Lunch is by far one of your favourites though— they were absolutely right. He had finished the last of the latest flask of tea you gave him, and now he was staring at the mug of watered down tea with a disappointed look. He often praised whatever you made, but you never realised it was this bad; Gaz had to lead you away from the mess hall before you burst out laughing and blew your cover straight away.

“Well then lass, we’ve shown you what he’s like at work so come on and spill the beans–y’know what we want to hear.” The two sergeants walk alongside you as you walk through the spring air, march chasing away the chill. “Didn’t have to, but he drove me all the way to the nearby farm and helped me bring home all the stock. Best part was watching him struggle to pick a good egg.” You smile as you recount the memory like it was yesterday; it may as well could’ve been with how regularly it replayed in your head, no detail forgotten. You may have even written a little diary entry about it, but they didn’t need to know that part. “That wasn't even that long from when we first met.. He drove me back after that too, and he used to stay late and chat over a cup of tea.”

“Ah, down bad from the beginning, huh? Didn’t know Simon was the type to swoon.” They elbow each other, chuckling as you blink, confused. “Oh, no, no — he didn't like me from the beginning, I think it was much after that. In fact, it kind of surprised me; I didn't expect him to reciprocate..”

 “Lass, he talked about your bakery all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s my bakery. Who doesn't like sweet treats? It wasn’t about me.”

“If he really had not felt anything about you, he definitely wouldn’t have actively tried to hide you from us before you got together. I’d even go as far as to argue he thought one of us would steal you away.”

The thought resonates in your head, having never thought about it that way in the slightest. Could it be possible though? You suppose if you had a few more friends, you’d keep news about him quiet– like your own little secret for no one else to interfere with. Only yours, and only his.

You barely have a second to further question before Soap’s staring at his phone, realising they're both supposed to be in a briefing in approximately thirty seconds.  “Shit— don't wander off, okay? We’ll be right back.” 

“Wait but—” And they’re already gone, disappearing into one of the side doors and leaving you alone in the wide expanse. 

You tried to listen to their orders, you really did, but it was starting to get colder and a whole unit of soldiers were entering the track you were just on. So, you took it upon yourself to re-enter the building, trying your best to walk through the corridors like you were actually supposed to be there. A few soldiers pass, giving you an odd look but nothing too crazy– the problem was that every corridor looked practically the same. Maybe you really should’ve stayed put after all.. This didn't seem good in the slightest. Oh, wait–this door looked kind of familiar, perhaps you were heading in the right direction?

“Slacking off now, are we?” 

Before you can comprehend the rough voice in your ear, a hand is on the scruff of your shirt, dragging you into a room before the door is slammed. Immediately, you squeal in the tight grasp, only to realise your feet are dangling above the floor, your shirt tight as you’re held upwards. Eyes squinted shut, you shake your head profusely.  “I'm- I'm on patrol!” 

“Walking around like a lost chick is hardly patrolling.” Your feet finally plant on the ground again, and so you blink your eyes open only to see Simon staring back at you, his mask hiked up to his nose and his lips curved down into an obviously fake frown. You give one in return, crossing your arms firmly over your chest in retaliation to his stunt. “How did you even realise it was me?” Though, he only rolls his eyes, his large hand reaching up to pinch your cheek like he always does, before taking off your cap and undoing the tight bun you were currently donning to fit in.. 

“Since this morning. No soldier would look at a Lieutenant so brightly, much less one who’s staring from afar with Soap beside them.” Sheepish, your cheeks warm, even more as he runs his hand through your hair, smoothening it out with his palm. “Much better. Now did you enjoy staring me down all day or what? Stalking is considered a crime y'know.” He hums, his lips barely inches away from you as he fixes your messy collar, placing the cap back upon your head again.

“Hey— I wasn't stalking you! Wait.. You flexed your muscles on purpose, didn't you?” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt about Simon Riley, it’s that sometimes he can be absolutely horrible at a poker face. Since he’s always wearing a mask, he barely remembers to cover his own reactions apart from his eyes. Thus, now that his lips are bare, you’re welcome to witness a very cheeky looking smirk. “Well it worked, didn’t it?” He wasn't wrong; you most definitely had drooled over his muscles for the forty minutes you were allowed to watch him workout for. 

One of his ungloved hands slides down, grabbing yours as he lets out a small scoff. “How long were you walking around aimlessly? You’re freezing.” That’s when he goes to clasp your other hand, only to feel a small lump in your cargos, a brow raising.

 “Oops, I almost forgot about them.” You pull out a bag of freshly baked cookies out of your pocket, planning to leave in his quarters later when the Captain would help you sneak in. Unfortunately, it seemed your surprise had been hijacked now, so a hand-delivery would have to do.

“Oh? Bribing a Lieutenant can also be considered a crime.” You roll your eyes, and pull out one of the treats, waving it under his nose like he was a dog watching a bone. “I wouldn’t say bribing. You work so hard, don't you think you deserve a treat? Plus, I'd call what I did admiring– not stalking.”

He eyes you for a second, the small curves of a smile lingering on his lips as he plucks the cookie out of your grasp, taking a small bite and chewing it down. You watch as he processes the taste, expecting the usual nod in satisfaction, or even for him to devour it one go just to prove how much he likes it. No, instead, his other hand had sneaked behind your neck, allowing him to push your head a little forward when he leaned in and stole a kiss right from you. 

“Not bad, you’re definitely sweeter though.” His lips shine with your lip gloss, crumbs sticking to his smile as he finally devours the rest of the cookie, stepping back towards his desk. You're left dumbfounded against the door, warmth buzzing in your cheeks and stomach, like a match lit aflame. Secretly, he’s buzzing with satisfaction, proud that he finally got you back for the sneaky kiss you pulled on him last time.

—---------------

“I can’t believe you kicked me out of your office after that.” 

He lies on his bed, muscles sinking into the comfy mattress and a particularly soft blanket you bought for him a few weeks after he fell asleep on your couch. In truth, his own action had caught him off guard, so yes, he did kick you out after kissing you for the first time. Now you were complaining to him over text, a bunch of sad face emojis following all your words.

“I still had to do work. You’ve kicked me out before as well.” He adds an emoji rolling its eyes, and he knows you’ll laugh at that because he almost never uses those silly pictures– it’s because he finds him funny when you get grumpy with him for it. ‘Old man’ you had huffed at him one day, and he promptly proved you wrong when he hoisted you over his shoulder and refused to put you down. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you meet my sergeants. They’re a bad influence on you.” 

That’s a lie, introducing you to his team was the best decision he’s ever made–coming right after the day he gave you his number and walked around the festival with you. He was worried of course; you might’ve got scared off with the whole military thing or even just not got along with them at all. But now at least he knows if something ever happens, they’ve got your back indefinitely, just like you’d happily welcome them too. Doesn’t mean he isn't a little jealous when he remembers you spent more time with them than he did today– even if it did surround following him around all day. He is glad he figured out your little plot fairly quickly; it could’ve been problematic if you heard him in the interrogation rooms.

“You’re just scared they’ll tease you now” 

There it is, the tongue sticking out emoji, always when you want to be petty. He hates that you’re right too– he’ll never live down their teasing but then again it’s worth it. He’s got a girl to come back to, a team to stand by him and damn those sappy romance movies and books you own, they’re completely right–that’s all he needs in his life.

–

You stare at his goodnight message, face pressed into the pillow. How did you get this lucky? But more importantly, he really did want you– this wasn't just a silly date. 

‘She can be my wife for all your knowledge’

Not a partner, not a girlfriend, not even a fiancee– wife. You’re gonna be up all night at this rate.

-------

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི buy me a coffee!

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Bike II

Chelsea Women x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're good at bike riding

"I'm so tired," Erin complains, fanning herself," God, it's hot today."

"I need a nap," Millie agrees.

"A nap and to do nothing for the rest of the day," Niamh says as she passes by, stripping off her sweaty training shirt," I'm just going to go home and melt."

"Home and an ice cream," Zećira continues, nodding and completely satisfied with her plan," I can't wait to get home."

"You'll all have to wait," Magda says decisively from the day. She'd come in earlier than everyone else, taking you into the building for a toilet and hydration break.

Most of the team had actually been quite worried about you.

This heat is sweltering and you're still tiny and excitable with energy that makes you run all over the field. It's like an accident waiting to happen.

Pernille had you stop and take long drinks from your water bottle all through practice until it ran out and she sent you off with Magda to fill it up.

You and Magda never came back though so everyone just presumed you'd already been bundled up in the car where there's air conditioning to use while you wait for Pernille to finish up and change.

"There's a surprise out the front."

"Is it an ice cream van?" Guro asks," Because that's the only thing that will make me happy right now."

"It's not an ice cream van."

"Then I'm out."

"No you're not," Magda says sternly," You're all going out the front with a smile and you're going to celebrate and clap and give compliments. Got it?"

"It's hot," Sam complains," Can't we rearrange this surprise?"

"No, Sam. We're doing it now."

"Give them a second to change, Magda," Pernille says," We're all hot. We're all irritable. Give them a sec."

Magda huffs. "Fine. I'll be out the front." She points a finger at everyone in turn. "I expect you all out there in ten minutes."

Pernille manages to shepherd everyone out in five.

"Right," Millie says, adjusting her cap so it properly shades her from the beating sun," What's-Oh."

"Look!" You say," I'm riding my bike!"

You peddle quickly around the car park, little legs pumping as you turn your handlebars so you're going around in circles.

You're doing impressively well on your bike, a very slow for an adult but fast for a little kid. It's even more impressive when the team note that you've not got any stabilisers.

A little basket that wasn't originally there when Sam bought it sits on the front and in it sits your swan and moose toy as well as a little bouquet of flowers that Pernille bought you at the market this morning.

Most of the team is speechless until Jessie starts clapping.

"Well done!" She calls out," You're doing so well!"

You beam at the praise, puffing out your chest in pride and pump your legs even faster.

Magda also puffs out her chest and Pernille has to smother her laughter.

"I taught her to ride," Magda brags," We took her stabilisers off last week. Isn't she so good?"

"The best!" Jessie agrees warmly, still clapping.

"Best ever!" Sam yells out," Look at you go!"

The team seem to have forgotten their exhaustion as you skid to a stop nearly half an hour later, everyone crowding around you as you pant from your cycling.

"Look at this!" Zećira exclaims," It's such a cool colour!"

"It's red," You tell her," Like Arsenal and Sweden's goalkeeper shirt! I love red!"

"It is!" Zećira says, nodding along," And you've got a little basket!"

"For my toys," You tell her," And my water bottle. And I've got a bell!"

You demonstrate by flicking it, letting the noise rings out through the car park.

"That's so cool!"

You grin at Zećira before looking at Jessie, suddenly shy.

"Did I do good, Jessie?"

She grins at you, ruffling your hair. "So good. I'm very impressed. I didn't know you could ride a bike!"

"Morsa taught me," You explain," And Momma did too. At the park. They say if I keep practicing and getting better and better we can all do a ride together! Do you want to go on a bike ride with me, Jessie?"

Jessie grins. "I'd love to."

[coqvttes]

୨୧― KINKTOBER: ❝DOLLED UP!❞ ― CARLOS O.

― ꒰ CORRUPTION ✰ KINKTOBER M.LIST ꒱ ―

୨୧˚ synopsis: after making you wait nearly two months to lose your virginity, you surprise him in lingerie that you know he can't resist corrupting you in.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, virginity loss, lingerie, p in v, petnames, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!carlos, creampie, teasing, fingering, spitting, some aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 2k (my bad lol this is not proof-read)

its been nearly two months since you've been with carlos. everything has been wonderful, but the only problem is that you're a virgin, and he still hasn't fucked you yet. you know he is the one, but you just can't bring yourself to ask him properly. you've hinted at him, but he brushes it off. he just doesn't want to make you feel like he's forcing it on you because you're not ready. being faint-hearted didn't help either; you were too shy to ask him, and you've had to make do with what he'd give you. lingering touches, messy kisses, and filthy words that all but led to nothing. he'd claim it was too early or that you weren't ready yet, and you'd just nod, too meek to protest.

but now, you don't think you can wait any longer as you plop down on your bed, your eyes boring into the ceiling. you turn your head to the side, and your gaze averts to the pretty white lacey lingerie set sitting on your duvet that you had bought just for carlos. a little surprise for him. but you'd never had the chance to wear it for him because you weren't ready? well, now you are, so you pick up your phone to dial his number, and he picks up after a couple rings.

"carlossss, can you over? pleeeease?" you whine, lying on your tummy on your soft bed. you kick your feet up on the bed as you plead with him. you can hear his smile as he speaks.

"sure, baby, what's up?" you heart aches as you hear his gruff voice from the other side of the phone. gosh, you're so needy, you start to feel wet from just hearing him.

"mmm, nothing, just miss you and i wanna show you something.." you know, if you tell him your true intentions, he'll probably protest.

"show me something, huh? you’re so cute. what have you been up to too, hm, princess?" he teases, completely oblivious to your little surprise waiting for him. you let out a soft, mischievous giggle.

"it's a surprise! you have to come over to see ittt."

"alright alright, i'll see you in 30? try not to miss me too much, hm? i know it's hard," he chuckles, and you can't help but grin and roll your eyes.

"don't be too long."

— ୨୧ —

it's been around 20 minutes, and you're all dolled up in the set, kneeling on the bed, anxiously waiting for him. your eyes are trained on the doorway, excitement coursing through your body. you wonder how he'll react and what he'll say. you're snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the front door open, and you recognize his heavy footsteps as he makes his way to your bedroom.

as the door swings open, his breath hitches, and he freezes at the doorway of the bedroom, gawking at you as you sit prettily in the middle of the bed. there you were. dolled up in a gorgeous white lacey set, barely covering anything, and you just looked so adorable in it.

“fuck, baby—“ he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence as he stares at your tits that are practically spilling out of the skimpy bra you wear. your innocent doe eyes gazing right back into his own, nervously.

“do you like it?" your voice is quiet and meek; his heart melts at your question, and he can’t even find the right words to say. you reach out a hand to him, desperate to be close to him, and he finds himself moving closer to you instinctively.

“i love it, baby. i love you,” he says, walking closer until he stands at the foot of the bed. he takes your hand and pulls you close. leaning down, he presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you moan into his mouth, your other hand moving up to grasp his hair. kissing carlos always leaves you breathless. the way his lips capture yours just perfectly, the way his stubble tickles your soft face, and the way his hand slides up to cup your cheek tenderly. he pulls away from you with a smile on his face.

“i’m ready, carlos, wan’ you to make love to me." you whisper. his breath hitches at your words, and suddenly you're helping him tug his cargos down. he pulls his compression shirt over his head and drops it onto the bedroom floor. the matress dips slightly with the weight of him as he rests one knee on the bed. carlos then reaches behind you to unclasp your bra, and he slips it off of you. a shy blush adorns your face as you reveal yourself to him for the first time. he lowers his head to press gentle kisses over your tits, and you both moan in unison when his warm tongue glides over your sensitive bud. your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing him into your chest desperately.

"you're so beautiful," he says, leaning up to kiss you once more.

he grins against your lips as his hand slowly slides up your inner thigh. he then toys with the band of your lacy panties before sliding them to the side. he backs up and lowers himself on the bed so you can feel his hot breath on your glistening cunt. he leans in, and you think he's going to kiss your heat, but instead, he spits on it! bringing his rough palm to cup your wet cunt, you let out a pathetic whimper. you must be so needy for him, he thinks. he gathers up your arousal before pushing his middle and ring fingers inside you, groaning at how wet your cunt is. you feel yourself instantly weaken as his fingers enter you. from all the sensitivity that had been building up, your back arches off the bed, your head falling back into the pillows. a grin adorns his features, and as he watches your every reaction, he curls his thick fingers inside of your cunt before pumping them in and out of you in a slow rhythm, hitting the spot inside of you that makes your vision blur and your jaw hang open.

"mmm! faster!" you whine, writhing in the sheets, desperate for release.

"say please, princess."

"please!" you plead, glossy eyes gazing down at him. how could he deny you when you begged him like that? his calloused thumb gently rubs at your bud in circular motions, further stimulating you, and you feel your release wash over you in an instant, your thighs trembling violently as you mewl out his name. as you come down from your high you catch him staring at you in awe.

gosh, he's not even sure if you're really that innocent with the way you’re testing his patience right now. he's trying his hardest not to pin you down and fuck you completely dumb with the way your finger rests on your plump bottom lip. the way you rub your legs together. and the way you give him those pretty "fuck me" eyes. maybe its because you've been needing him for so long. depraved of his touch. but it doesn't matter because he loves it. and he's going to show you just how much he does.

and before you know it, he’s nudging the tip of his throbbing dick against your overstimulated, slick entrance. your mouth drops open slightly when you gasp at the stretch as he pushes his length inside your warmth. struggling cunt barely being able to swallow all of him as your grip on his muscular bicep tightens and your brows furrow. he sinks his entire length in with a low groan and notices your discomfort before he coos.

"shit, baby, it will feel good soon, i promise." you nod and he starts building up a good pace, pushing himself in and out of you sensually, grinding against your clit a few times to make you feel good.

he lifts your legs for you with his palm resting on the underside of your thighs for a better angle. the pleasure begins to replace the harsh sting of the stretch, and you try to suppress your needy moans by covering your mouth with your palm. but carlos has none of it, and he pulls away your arm, pinning it next to your head.

"let me hear you, doll."

he then makes it his mission to draw out all of your gorgeous noises by pounding into you faster and harder. as he picks up the pace, you can't bring yourself to be quiet anymore, and soon soft whimpers and mewls spill from your lips, and he swears he's never heard prettier sounds. his gaze is now fixated on the way your cunt keeps sucking him back in. what a lewd sight.

"is it too rough, sweetheart?" he asks, as he quickly remembers that this is indeed your first time, not wanting to go too hard on you because he knows it must hurt. you shake your head and slide your hand up to his cheek.

"i-i like it-" you interrupt yourself with a moan as you feel him hit a particular spot inside you that has your mind going numb. wanton moans spill from your pretty lips as his hips snap against yours; the sweat rolling down his abs makes him look like a god right now, and you just want to kiss him so badly.

"kiss me," you whimper, hands clinging to his broad shoulders for support. your needy lips beg to feel his as he lets out a soft chuckle before leaning down to press his lips to yours. he pours his passion out for you into the kiss, and you whimper into his mouth, tongues clashing against each other. when he pulls away, you find yourself breathless and your lips swollen. he continues to thrust into you, and your hands move up to grope on your soft tits, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples. he nearly cums at the sight and replaces your hands with one of his own, further stimulating you as you start to feel overwhelmed by the pressure in your core.

"fuck, just like that, doll," he moans, feeling his release nearing as well. your wet heat clenches around him so perfectly that the momentary feeling causes a lapse in judgement, and he whispers in the heat of the moment.

“fuck, baby, shoulda fucked you sooner. gonna ruin you so bad, doll."

as if your body responds naturally to him, your mind goes blank, and your moans grow high-pitched as you feel the entire force of your release wash over you completely. he releases his grip on your thighs, and your legs close around his waist, pulling him flush against you, keeping him close as he releases inside of you, letting out a guttural moan. he drops his head to your shoulder and litters your collarbone with gentle kisses in contrast to his rough thrusts earlier.

"didn't go too hard on ya did i? how do you feel, hm? i know i'm good," he teases, pulling out of you slowly. wow, even after fucking your brains out, he remains cocky. but you love it and you shake your head at his words.

"thank you," you breathe out. he smiles as he's reaching for his briefs before pulling them on. he caresses your cheek tenderly.

"you don't need to thank me, gorgeous," he chuckles lightly before dissappearing into the bathroom and returning to you with a cloth.

"mm i love youuu," you say as he begins to clean you up, slipping off your panties and wiping you down with the slightly damp cloth.

"love you too, pretty girl," he says before snatching your slick-covered panties from the duvet and stuffing them in his pocket.

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2023. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[emmylksblog]

THE WEDDING RING // H. FORT

summary: reader lost her wedding ring and tries to hide it from her husband

contents: angst, comfort

warnings: my first time ever writing so be patient with grammar errors

a/n: idk if this is good but if you want part 2 tell me in the comments and if you like my writing feel free to request, i only write about hector fort and some barcelona players

You were sitting on the couch, looking through a pile of cushions and under the couch cushions, clearly stressed and worried. You quickly put everything back in place as you hear the front door open and your dear husband who you didn´t want to see now walks in, home from training.

"Love, I'm home!"

Trying to act casual you get up and greet him with a kiss on his cheek "Oh, hey! I didn't expect you home so early." You stand up quickly and try to hide the fact that you were just frantically looking for your wedding ring something.

Clearly, something was bothering her for her to be acting this way, he'd never seen her like this before and they had been living together for 2 years, he considered it a long time to know her well enough and to notice so easily her changes in mood.

Hector left his training bag on the couch and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "I know you've been worried about something," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "You don't have to say anything yet, I'll wait till you're ready to talk about it."

You turned in his embrace and playfully mock-scrunches your nose at him. "Ugh, you smell terrible!" you exclaimed jokingly. "Did you roll around in mud after training or something?" Hector chuckled and feigned offense. "Hey, I'll have you know, this is the smell of a real man." He joked back. You smiled and pushed him playfully. "Well, this real man needs to go take a shower. I'll start making dinner."

As he left to shower, you went to the kitchen to start preparing the meal. You tried to keep your mind occupied, but the thought of the lost ring kept nagging at you. You knew you had to tell Hector, but you were worried about how he would react.

----------

Your husband walks back into the room, towel around his neck and hair still damp. He sits down at the table and watches as you quickly finish setting everything up.

As you turn around to join him, you immediately notice his damp hair and can't help but nag. "You should really dry your hair properly. You'll catch a cold like this." Hector grins, clearly amused by your concern. "But I only like it when you dry it for me," he teases, reaching out to pinch your cheek.

You swat his hand away, giggling at his playful banter. "You're such a baby," you tease, "training must have gone well for you to be this cheeky."

Hector chuckled at your comment, knowing that you knew him too well. "It went pretty good," he said, "We did some endurance drills today and I managed to run a few miles faster than usual. The guys were in awe of my speed, as always." He said jokingly, flexing his muscles in a mocking display of pride.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics. "You're insufferable, you know that?" you said, trying to bite back a smile. "Always bragging about how fast and strong you are."

They continued eating and the conversation slowly died down to a comfortable silence. Hector was oblivious to her inner turmoil, relishing the peace that came with the meal. She, on the other hand, was eating silently, lost in her own thoughts.

Occasionally, she would glance at her left hand, silently panicking over the missing ring on her finger. She wondered how Hector hadn't noticed yet, but his focus seemed to be on his food.

Hector casually asks her to pass him a napkin, and she does so without thinking, using her left hand since it's closer. As he takes the napkin, he subconsciously takes hold of her hand, his eyes darting to her ring finger. His smile fades as he realizes – her wedding ring is missing.

"Where's your ring?" he asks, his voice calm, yet tinged with confusion.

You quickly withdraw your hand from his, feeling the weight of guilt and nervousness. Trying to come up with an excuse, you mumble something about how you must have forgotten to put it on this morning. However, the excuse is flimsy and Hector immediately sees through it. "You never forget to put it on," he says, his expression serious now. "What's really going on?"

Hector's gaze is unwavering, the silence in the room nearly palpable. As you try to muster up the words to explain, tears well up in your eyes. The weight of the truth and the stress of the day finally catch up to you. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. You can't bring yourself to tell him you lost the ring, even though his gaze demands the truth.

Hector's tough exterior softens instantly as he sees you struggling to speak through your tears. He gently pulls you into his arms, holding you against him.

"Shhh..." he murmured, his voice gentle. "It's okay, I'm not mad, just tell me what happened."

You bury your face into his shoulder, your words coming out in a teary mumble. "I... I was searching for it before you came," you said, "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find it. I'm so sorry... I'm such a horrible wife. You shouldn't have married someone like me..."

He holds you tighter, his embrace comforting and protective. "No, no," he whispered, "Don't say that. You're not a bad wife because you lost something, accidents happen."

He pulled back slightly, gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "I married you because I love you, for everything that you are. And a ring doesn´t define our love"

Hector softly kisses your forehead, holding you close against him. You remain like that for a while, cuddled up on the couch, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gradually, your exhaustion catches up to you, and drift off to sleep in the embrace of your husband, your head resting on his chest.

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